Rockpool Bar & Grill

66 Hunter Street, Sydney

As a food critic in name only I can’t rely on an employer to foot the bill when I eat out. It lends a certain integrity to my reviews, even if it means they end up being about cheap schnitzels and fast food.

When my older brother asked me to join him for a lunchtime burger I thought it was right up my skid-row alley. Then I found out the burger joint was Neil Perry’s Rockpool Bar & Grill. If you can get away with wearing a ponytail like Perry’s you can get away with charging whatever you want for a hunk of meat wedged in a bun.

We enter a grand art deco building on Hunter Street. There are bold marble columns supporting a ceiling so high it could accommodate a pole vault contest. Rather than sit in the restaurant we slink through the impressive foyer into the more relaxed but still stylish bar. Being that it’s “Casual Friday” I easily blend in with the suits-in-disguise.

There are so many wine glasses hanging above the bar that staff wouldn’t have to wash for a month. In the menu it’s explained they are purely ornamental. Maybe someone over-ordered glassware and they decided to make a sculpture rather than admit to a mistake. The room is also decorated with photographs of nude women like in a panel beater’s shop – though these ones are only in black and white.

We take a seat at the bar and order a drink: the McLaren Vale Dry Lager for ten dollars. If you feel a bit miserly buying that you can get a longneck of Normandy cider for $70.

Rockpool Bar & Grill claims to be famous for its full-blooded Wagyu burger. That fame is negligible compared to McDonalds and its Big Mac, and Hungry Jacks and its Whopper. Perry’s burger might be better known amongst the masses if it had a catchier name than “David Blackmore’s Full Blood Wagyu Hamburger with Bacon, Gruyere Cheese and Zuni Pickle” (or cost twenty dollars less).

Once we’re seated at a table I order the “Full-Blood Wag-Burger” to see if it lives up to the hype I haven’t heard. The burger is served with two slices of tomato and iceberg lettuce on the side: as a nod to the more traditional Aussie burger, an optional addition to the burger ensemble, or a miserable salad. There is no beetroot.

The burger is great. There are no soggy bun dramas, the Zuni pickle gives the sweetness I’d turn to beetroot for, and the cheese and bacon are enjoyable rather than intrusive. The rissole itself is juicy and meaty – there’s no eggs, breadcrumbs or sawdust bulking up the patty here.

After five minutes of munching I look at my empty plate and feel a little empty inside. Was the burger so good I inhaled it instead of enjoying it? Or was it too small?

I’m tempted to order a second burger so I can savour it. With the $24 price tag that isn’t going to happen. I reach for my wallet very slowly. My older (and richer) brother doesn’t miss the cue. He offers to pay for the meal. Maybe that second burger isn’t out of the question.

Ali Kaneet