Jack Ellis

✍️ Time Out Sydney never writes starred restaurant and bar reviews from hosted experiences – Time Out covers restaurant and bar bills, and anonymously reviews, so that readers can trust our critique. Find out more, here.  Its doors open onto the humdrum footpath of a CBD street, but there is a distinctive feel of north-eastern Thailand at Yok Yor. Its Isan heritage is palpable, unmistakably flavoured with smoke, fish sauce, chilli and lime. Set between faceless Sydney office buildings at the eastern end of Thai Town, Yok Yor serves some of the most authentic versions of classic Isan dishes available south of Khon Kaen, and some of the best Thai food in all of Sydney. The vibe We visit for a weekday lunch and sit at a steel table on the footpath, close to the hush of passing taxis and zipping bike couriers. Yok Yor’s outdoor tables sit behind concrete barricades on Campbell Street, and they are scuffed by years of cutlery and conversation. Across the road, the windows of Thai grocery shops are stacked with brightly-coloured packets and tins. Although it describes itself as a ‘Thai Food Factory’, the interior is far from industrial. It’s homey and unmistakably Thai, with neon signs, food murals, long wooden tables and fishbone ferns hanging from ceiling baskets. The food At an Isan restaurant, I’d normally (maybe always) order som tum. But, to try something a little different, I go for the tum tang ($19.50), which substitutes green papaya with thinly sliced cucumber. The aroma

When I took my first bite of the tuna tostada, I was certain we were in for a good night. The bladework on the fish demonstrates knowledge and care, and the pairing of avocado and lime mayo makes for a perfectly balanced covering for the tostada chip. Beside it on the table, the ‘local fish ceviche’ is served in a skull-sized, coconut shell; the slices of bream sitting thumb-deep in a tiger’s milk liquor of lime, bright-green cherry tomatoes, mild chillies, coriander and cucumber. Although bream wouldn’t usually be my first choice of fish for a ceviche, it’s fresh and undeniably local. I had seen plate-sized bream circling the wharf pylons when I explored the water’s edge prior to the reservation. And, after tasting this unimprovable version, I think bream will now be my first choice for tiger’s milk ceviche. So far, so great. Quarterdeck is housed in an old-style, timber oyster shed, built out over the inexplicably blue waters of the Wagonga Inlet in Narooma, a five-hour drive south of Sydney. All tables have a view of the azure-blue inlet through white-painted window frames, and the décor is unmistakably Polynesian. The cocktail bar is fringed with seagrass, and there are vintage black-and-white portraits of Samoan royalty. The décor appears to be a nod to its former life as a Tiki-style band venue. The illuminated sign over the front door still describes Quarterdeck as ‘The Little Red House of Tunes’. The next dish out is the charcoal grilled citrus pork belly, served with