Crack open a Yellow Tail and pop the French onion. It’s the second-ever Good Food Guide Cap Awards. Similar to last year, The Caps are just like the coveted hats we award to restaurants, only looser fitting and occasionally frayed.

The Arthur Fonzarelli Memorial Plate for Jumping the Shark

When Bar Tilda opened inside the newly refitted Sofitel Sydney Wentworth in late October, the opening cocktail menu promised tableside Manhattan service. Three cheers, hip and hooray. We’ve had tableside martinis and gueridon service in the CBD for an age, but I’ve never been offered whiskey, sweet vermouth and bitters from a trolley. Then, a week or two later, Tilda’s owners also launched Vietnamese-French-inspired Delta Rue upstairs, complete with a banh mi trolley lapping the room. I’m all for a freshly made sandwich, but this is just getting silly.

The Vegemite Dairy Milk Ribbon for Dumbest Collaboration of the Year

The other week, I received a press release from a Victorian fast-food franchise launching a “ham and orange” pizza. “Drawing inspiration from Italy’s deep-rooted love of oranges, this unexpected twist is set to shake up summer menus.” Dear, God. Kill it with fire.

Meanwhile, in NSW, Coles tried to flog hot cross buns seasoned with Arnott’s Pizza Shapes, and Pauls released a lollipop-flavoured custard. “Best served cold,” recommended the label for the pink goop “inspired by” Chupa Chups Strawberry Creams. Well, yeah. As opposed to what? Lukewarm out of a Hoka running shoe? No one is heating lollipop custard in the microwave.

One dumb collaboration rose above them all, however, and it’s a big round of applause for Donut King Cinnamon Twisties. Twisties took home the same ribbon last year, too, after the snack brand partnered with Angel Aromatics to produce scented candles in both cheese and chicken flavours. Twisties X Lynx Africa for 2025? Go on, make it a hat trick.

The Nick Cave and Kylie Minogue Medal for Best Collaboration of the Year

Vianney Hunter started professionally making candles in a backyard eight years ago, and she now has three store locations across Newtown, Surry Hills and The Strand. Hunter Candles is all about collaborating with other local businesses to create new aromas, including three-hatted Saint Peter for a candle crafted with leftover Murray cod fat (it smells more like red gum and mossy rocks than greasy fish, don’t worry). Pepe Saya has its own buttered popcorn soy-wax candle (I can confirm that it really enhances the experience of watching Dune: Prophecy on the couch), and Marrickville’s Baba’s Place has also joined the party with a little frankincense and oakwood scented number.

Decanter of the Year

Riedel and Plumm still rule the top-end stemware market, but if you’re a restaurant without a decanter from Sydney-based glass artist Brian Hirst, are you even serious about full-bodied reds? Joking, of course – I’ve aerated wine in everything from a Zalto Axium to a Pringles can, but gee, those individually signed Hirst decanters have become popular. (They’re the organic-looking hand-blown ones, by the way, usually shaped like a chubby penguin or bowling ball that’s let itself go.) You can also buy them at more and more online wine stores if you’re looking for an ace present for that Lake’s Folly fan in your life.

Speaking of wine, I’m lifting the next paragraph from The Age Good Food Guide editors Emma Breheny and Ellen Fraser, who wrote about sexist wine service in their Melbourne restaurant trends feature we published in November.

“This one’s for anyone who believes the wine list should be handed to the man. That a table of women should be offered a glass of sparkling to start, but the blokes next to them deserve to peruse the full selection. For anyone who’s fobbed off a woman asking about wine with a one-line response, we implore you: do better. We’re ready to spend money and engage with you. Meet us halfway.”

Indeed. While there are many excellent sommeliers out there, well rehearsed in the line “who would like to have a look at the list”, too often, I’m still handed the wine menu ahead of my partner. It can feel like you’re dining at one of those ancient Michelin-starred French joints, the ones with a separate “ladies’ menu” that doesn’t list prices*.

(*I’m not entirely against bringing this concept back, but in the form of a price-removed “dads’ menu” for family dinners when the kids are paying. It would certainly stop a lot of “How bloody much are they charging for steak?” related ranting.)

The Ticketmaster Trophy for Unexplained Surcharges

If penalty rates in hospitality are set to continue (which they probably should if the industry is keen to attract more young Australians to the workforce), every second cafe, bar or restaurant will continue to add a surcharge to your bill for visiting on a weekend. Like TikTok and Yo-Chi, there’s no point fighting it; just accept the new status quo.

But regarding the CBD restaurant charging a 10 per cent service charge to dine on a Friday night (you know who you are), that ain’t on. It feels suspiciously like the dynamic pricing tactics used by companies to drive prices up according to demand, and few things ruffle consumer feathers more. Let’s keep that nonsense restricted to Uber.

I’ve also noticed more venues adding a discretionary service fee of 3 or 5 per cent to the bill, which reportedly goes directly to staff. Provided that charge is clearly noted on the menu, I’m not completely against it. However, it does raise the question of why customers are being asked to boost floor staff pay rather than the restaurant group – restaurant groups that seem to have no problem spending millions on flash fit-outs. Can I suggest less Carrara marble and improved staff pay instead?

Most Improved Trend

Nice work, prawn toast. What was a minor trend last year is now a full-on sesame-spangled assault. Why? For the same reason that Robert Downey Jr is returning to the Marvel Universe: “Give ’em what they want.” I know people who would rather eat Weet-Bix dipped in hummus than ever touch seafood, “but prawn toast is OK”. Australians bloody love it.

A running list compiled by my Good Food Guide co-editor David Matthews includes bug toast at Promenade Bondi Beach; the knife-and-fork-required slab at Boronia Kitchen, Gladesville; Peter Gilmore’s fermented chilli-spiked version at Bennelong Bar; lobster toast at the new Wan’s Cantonese in Darlinghurst; Neil Perry’s showcase of Spencer Gulf king prawn at Song Bird, Double Bay; and the Abrolhos Island scallop-topped prawn medallions at Lana Dining near Circular Quay.

There’s also Lulu Bondi’s doorstopping wodges of deep-fried Hokkaido scallop lit up by flying-fish roe; the plus-sized king prawn rolled in airy mousse and golden pastry at Bones Ramen, Potts Point; a pressed round of prawn mousse at Soluna, North Sydney; and – still a contender for Sydney’s best after all these years – Spice Temple’s heavyweight division, bacon-enhanced, “wheel of fortune” prawn toast.

Beyond city limits, you have Sawtell’s Bar Que Sera topping its contribution to the form with a rich sliver of wagyu bresaola, and Byron Bay’s Bar Heather squishes green kings between two slices of crisp-fried pain a l’ancienne.

The Pet Rock™ Plate for Savvy Marketing

You may have seen “Bay Lobster” popping up with increased frequency this year. It’s a fine bit of shellfish produced by a Northern Rivers company that sustainably farms the crustacean year-round. But let’s not call a duck a golden goose or, indeed, a bug a lobster. “Bay Lobster” is simply a trademarked brand name for good ol’ Moreton Bay bug. Buyer beware any restaurant charging lobster-level prices for it.

The Cookin’ With Coolio Literary Prize for a Celebrity, Film or Television-Related Cookbook No One Asked For

Consider this your yearly reminder that Alan Jones and Mark Latham once published a cookbook together – 2018’s Conversations in the Kitchen. That’s a thing. That exists. In this world. I think Annabel Crabb owns two copies.

In 2024, Dolly Parton and her sister Rachel released a recipe collection titled Good Lookin’ Cookin’, and it actually looks pretty ace. You just know that banana pudding recipe is a banger. Pamela Anderson put out a cookbook, too. It’s vegan, and it’s probably fine. Drew Barrymore says it is “The most beautiful cookbook I have ever seen”. (I guess Drew isn’t familiar with Darryl Brohman’s Big Marn’s Barbeque, then.)

Absolutely no one, however, besides the Paramount Pictures marketing department, asked for a photography-free cookbook themed on Clueless, a movie that came out in 1995. Yes, I know it’s a cult classic, but the publisher might have more respect for the fan base than a book of illustrations for recipes including “gnarly skateboarder’s breakfast sandos” and “cute plaid lemon sugar cookies”. It has one star and one review on Amazon.

Spice of the Year

Cumin, come on down! The mainstay of vegetarian kitchens has enjoyed headlining roles in Middle Eastern and Indian spice blends for decades, and (Northern Chinese) Xinjiang-style lamb skewers buzzing with cumin and chilli are hardly new to Sydney. But this year, the Good Food Guide included more cumin-powered skewers than ever before, leading withour New Restaurant of the Year winner, Firepop in Enmore.

We’re also very into the skewers at Hurstville’s Shang Lamb Soup (only $2 a stick, how good), Shi Gol Jip in Belmore (and its 20-skewers-per-table minimum order), and the deceptively tender cumin lamb ribs at My Aunt’s Handmade Noodles, a newcomer on Burwood Road (with free noodle refills, by the way.) Bonus shout-out to the cumin-thwacked Algerian-style fried eggs at Cafe Tanja, Surry Hills.

Overachiever of the Year

With other restaurants to oversee in Singapore and Hamilton Island (not to mention raising four children at home), you might wonder if there are two Josh Nilands at the helm of Saint Peter, a bit like Christian Bale’s twin roles in The Prestige. (Spoilers for The Prestige.) There’s not of course, it’s only him and his wife Julie, backed by the skill of a passionate team.

We expected the new-look Saint Peter at Paddington’s Grand National Hotel would be special, but the ambition and commitment to quality something else, even for the Nilands. One-hat bar; two-hat-level lunch service; and a seven-course tasting dinner that might start with coral trout consomme and noodles made from the fish’s pressure-cooked bones and finish with a caviar-crowned canele. Now we’re just waiting for the restaurant’s boutique accommodation to launch.

The Ins and Outs of Drinking for 2024

IN

Self-serve, batch-brew coffee. See you later, morning long-black queue.

Palomas. Accept no gin and grapefruit substitutes. If it ain’t tequila, it ain’t a Paloma.

Tap water. Forget cocaine as God’s way of saying you make too much money; it’s Acqua Panna Still.

Manhattans on the rocks. This one’s more of a personal request than a trend, to be honest.

OUT

Dirty martinis. Alright, fun’s over. Nine olives is too much.

Garnishes fixed to the cocktail with a tiny peg. I’ve been pushing for this stop for the past 10 years, and I’m going to keep pushing until every last tiny peg is eliminated.

Non-alcoholic, low-kilojoule canned “cocktails”. Just drink a kombucha.

Imported ice. I’m all for a big ol’, precision-cut cube in my Boulevardier, but shipping ice from Japan, or hunks of ancient Greenland glacier, is luxury gone mad. Granted, I haven’t seen imported ice in a local bar yet, but if it’s happening in Dubai and the US, you can be sure some doofus Sydney operator will give it a crack.