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I’m loath to admit it, but Melbourne’s food markets leave Sydney’s for dead. What I wouldn’t give for a local version of Queen Victoria, South Melbourne or Prahran market close to the CBD. So when the Herald reported a section of Paddy’s was set to become an “upmarket” offering, inspired by London’s Covent Garden and Eataly in New York, I was optimistic that Sydney might get the first-rate food hub it has long needed. Erm. Well. No. No, it has not.

Doltone Hospitality Group, a company with more experience running event spaces than restaurants (let alone globally recognised food markets), launched Hay St Market in late March. There are nearly 50 new stalls across a 3000-square-metre space with two large bars and rather dim lighting. It’s not a complete overhaul of Paddy’s; there are still fresh fruit and veg traders, plus the souvenir and costume stalls. You can still buy olives from the excellent Go Nuts. You can still buy a custard apple and cap that says “Dilf Hunter”.

According to Hay St Market’s website, the hub is all about “eats, treats, beets, meats” and “sweets”. Either the marketing team is especially excited about the root vegetables on offer or it meant to write “beats”. A jazzpop- electro-doof soundtrack is incessant, but makes little sense with whatever Dad and Dave vibe they’re trying to create around the Traders Bar area with its recycled lumber, wooden Schweppes crates and vintage scales.

For reasons beyond speculation, there are also old Encyclopaedia Britannicas strewn around the bar. Who’s reading “Volume 12: Hydrozoa to Jeremy, Epistle Of” with their Jansz Cuvée? Management should research the City of Sydney’s recycling guidelines instead. There are plenty of bins (and a lot of disposable cutlery and boxes), but I haven’t found any receptacles to separate cans, plastic and cardboard. Even Westfield has recycling bins for PET’s sake.

I have, however, been served a very good martini on three occasions at Traders, which is stocked with some decent booze. You can then take that martini to The Fish + Chippery and down it with thick chips of noble crunch fried in beef tallow. They’re not just the best thing I’ve eaten across six visits to Hay St Market, they’re some of the best chips in town.

I’ll also bat for the vibrant pho at Luke Nguyen’s noodle store, even if you can get twice the amount for the same price at many restaurants nearby. Wan Chai Wok’s chow fun with shaggy, soy-seasoned beef is totally fine, as are most of Thomas Hay Bakery’s pastries. The cannoli shop’s cannoli do the job; barbecued Skull Island prawns at Little Midden have long savoury flavour; Scoop & Sons knows what it’s doing with gelato.

The pies at The Pie Guy by Broomfields are terrific, but why does it cost $7 to have my beef and onion pie (already $12) topped with gravy, mash and peas reheated in a microwave? And why does the taco shop have an AI-generated portrait of Frida Kahlo above the counter? (Of all artists to generate!) Further, why are its tacos made with two tortillas overlapping like the Mastercard logo, meaning the shells fall apart under the weight of their considerable fillings?

How hard is it for the fish shop to make prawn rolls to order, rather than prefilling the buns and displaying them on ice so you’re eating cold bread? And what’s the go with the Spanish joint leaving the sweaty manchego rind attached on its toasts with jamon and beetroot?

Why does that same tapas joint list a Manhattan on its drinks list but no sherry? Who sees sliced bread, topped with octopus, olives and ricotta and sitting under a glass cloche, and thinks, “Oh, yeah, I’ll have some of that”? Then there’s the pizza pooled with oil, dull yakitori, dry maritozzi and the weird “gallery” of celebrity portraits hung on visible 3M hooks. Many stalls have been designed so you can watch your food being prepared, which is nice if it’s a pasta bloke hanging spaghetti, but who wants to see a chef spraying skewers with Sandhurst Canola in a can?

Chalk up another entry on Sydney’s board of missed opportunities. Why, rather than partnering with more detail-focused, high-profile chefs – Josh Niland, say, or Kylie Kwong – to make Paddy’s a “world-class” market, have the owners seemingly put in the minimum cost and effort for maximum profits at their Temu EPCOT? Who’s to say? Not me, legally. I stand by those chips, though.

Good Food reviews are booked anonymously and paid independently. A restaurant can’t pay for a review or inclusion in the Good Food Guide.

This review was originally published in Good Weekend magazine