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There’s a certain joy surfers experience when they're gliding on the perfect wave. It begins with anticipation laced with the excitement of what’s to come, followed by a hit of adrenaline. Then, whoosh: blissful, simple, joy. It doesn’t come around often – I’ve done enough nose dives in my time to attest to that – but when it does, the feeling is magic. That’s why you’ll see the ocean studded with so many black beads in the mornings and early evenings, even in the dead of winter. Dining at Sean’s, the sea-salt-sprayed restaurant located across from Bondi’s golden sand, is like catching the perfect wave. Sure, there’s a little less water and a bit more wine, but the feeling of being in harmony with your environment, and of the joy it sparks, reminds me of my years spent in the sea.
And, of course, there’s the dining room. But more on that soon.
It is not a grid-perfect Bondi day on my most recent visit to Sean’s. In fact, it’s bloody miserable. The kind of day where the rain seems to be coming at you sideways. As such, the main entrance is closed and guests are asked to enter through a different door, so I find myself huddled into a closet-like room with a bunch of smiling strangers, waiting until it’s our turn. The excitement in the air is palpable, like we’re off to a Bridgerton ball.
When it’s time, a host welcomes me and I follow her through rabbit-warren-like pathways, past nooks and crannies and a whole wall of pickles and preserves, and step into what has got to be the most beautiful, home-style, coastally kitsch dining room in Sydney.
Glowing, scallop-shell lights dangle from the ceiling, which also features a blue humpback whale made entirely of mussel shells. The tables are cloaked in blue-, sand- and white-striped linen tablecloths and surrounded with mismatched vintage chairs. The walls are dressed in an eclectic mix of colourful art and there are purple orchids in the centre of the room. If Diane Keaton married an eclectic surfing art director in Bondi, I reckon their home would look like this.
Though, it’s not Keaton, but the result of years of love and labour by chef-owner Sean Moran, who first opened Sean’s in 1993 overlooking Bondi Beach. For more than three decades, Moran has lured Sydneysiders and tourists in (and back) to his feel-good diner with his unpretentious and honest cooking that celebrates hyper-seasonal, local and ethical produce. The menu, which changes regularly, is drawn on a blackboard hanging on a wall. Sean’s offers a three-course menu: entrée, main and dessert, and guests have three options to choose from in each course. The wine-by-the glass menu is also drawn on the wall, and cocktails are classic.
Our waitress runs us through the food and it almost sounds like a melody. Soon, our glasses of Symphonia prosecco from Victoria’s King Valley arrive alongside complimentary house-made bread and butter, crunchy discs of purple and pink radish and chunky pistachio pesto. I could say I’m as happy as a pig in mud, but really, I’m as happy as a diner at Sean’s on a Sunday and they mean the same thing.
Around me, glasses are clinking, stories are being told, laughter is erupting like lava. I look out and see the ocean, and it’s bliss.
Fennel chowder comes with a drizzle of chilli oil and spring onions. It’s creamy, the seasoning is bang on and there’s a lovely sweetness thanks to the slowly cooked veg. On the side are southern calamari fried in its own black ink, looking all dramatic, but in reality its tentacles are tender, and dressed with salt flakes and a squeeze of lime. It’s yum.
Of course I order the chicken, which is as legendary as the lifesavers out the front. If Quay is known for its snow egg, Mr Wong for its duck and Bills for those ricotta hotcakes, Sean’s is known for its chicken. Here, Moran serves a free-range roast chook from the family-owned Little Hill Farm accompanied by a golden spud, roast pumpkin, cabbage and a chestnut and bread sauce. It’s speckled with oregano and there’s a luscious jus with the same amount of umami depth as Vegemite. The meat is glorious and succulent, the flavours so comforting. It tastes like one of the best roasts in the country.
To finish, a crisp tartlet shell is filled with cream and topped with stewed rhubarb, quince, candied walnuts and a fruit and vanilla syrup on top. It’s pretty in pink and faultless.
Dining at Sean’s feels like being in a home filled with love and delicious things, and yes, a heck of a lot of shells. Soul is at the heart of this iconic coastal spot, and you can’t not come away feeling like your cup has been filled. I can think of no better place in Sydney to celebrate my own upcoming 30th birthday.
So here’s to you, Sean’s. Bring on the next decade.
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