The last time I visited Hungarian stalwart Corner 75, before it was taken over by the Baba’s Place and Sixpenny teams (Jean-Paul El Tom, Alex Kelly and Daniel Puskas) earlier this year, one feeling stayed with me. This restaurant, which served Sydney’s Randwick for more than 40 years, had a giant heart. Former owner Paul Varga greeted everyone like they were visiting his home. Regulars knew their orders without looking at a menu. Families sang “happy birthday”, and we all joined in.
The new Corner 75 reopened under new ownership in March when the earth was burning: wars, economic upheaval, chaos. To me, few things are more nurturing than the old-world flavours of Eastern Europe. Please let it still feel the same. Let me have one moment alone with a perfect schnitzel and everything will feel okay.
I exhale with relief when I peer through the lace curtains to see the paprika-red walls are still covered in the restaurant’s original memorabilia: football pennants, Hungarian celebrities, newspaper clippings. The near-faultless floor team led by former Attica restaurant manager Alice Tremayne, welcomes you like you’re coming in from a storm.
The succinct menu still features many of the original dishes, but they have been given new freshness and sunshine under the direction of El Tom and Puskas and head chef Carley Scheidegger (ex-Fred’s). The lángos – fried flatbread – fluffs like a favourite pillow, and spooning on house-made sour cream and a puddle of lecsó, a rustic vegetable ragout, is the culinary equivalent of a grandma tucking a blanket around your lap. The Borrowdale pork schnitzel is the best I have ever eaten; its crumb coating soufflés off the meat, light as a kite. Endive and pickled Turkish peppers are fanned like petals around a sunflower seed dip. I love the solace of fresh nutmeg on nokedli, the old-fashioned sweetness of the dacquoise in the Esterházy torte.
A dripping candlestick in the centre of our table is replaced as soon as it burns too low and plates land with their “Corner 75” stamps precisely centred; fine-dining attention to detail that I didn’t expect but make it all feel that little bit more special. We clink and drink furmint by the glass, we laugh, we eat tart pickles and sausage with mustard and for a moment, all is right with the world.
A family sings happy birthday. We all join in.
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