Best hotels in Sydney
After a three-year renovation, this heritage building – once the tallest in the CBD – has emerged as a hip hub that celebrates its Italian roots.
There’s something afoot in the southern reaches of the Sydney CBD. The precinct between Martin Place and Central Station has seen a slew of hotel openings in the past few years. The common thread, aside from location, is the landmark conversion factor, resulting in invigorated streetscapes and a new focus on what was once perceived as the NSW capital’s dead end, a mercantile precinct edging Chinatown with neither mid-city buzz nor Surry Hills hipster cred. Porter House and Kimpton Margot have led the charge but the latest cool kid on the block is Hotel Morris, just opened after a three-year restoration. This fresh iteration is already turning heads, from the pale ghost-like lines of its original signage on the exterior to its daringly ornate street-level bar and diner.
If the name is familiar, this was once Sydney’s “tallest” hotel, at 14 storeys, relishing the title until 1963 when the city’s skyline started its skyscraper ascent. Its origins date to 1929 and an opulent design that was remarkable, even brazen, for the era. Sydney-born architect Virgil Dante Cizzio (1890-1963) celebrated his father’s Italian heritage in producing a Renaissance-inspired palazzo on Pitt St, which surely must have astonished Sydneysiders.
Transplants of adopted styles and influences don’t always work but Cizzio’s vision was a triumph and its reincarnation works very well because the original design has been properly embraced and accentuated. It begins with the arrival process. Check-in is at a small counter in Bar Morris, entered straight from the street via steel-framed doors, just like many of the smaller hotels in central Rome. This 40-seat bar and dining area is ablaze with shades of red; I’m imagining Dante’s Inferno at this point, but let’s opt for Paradiso. Think: striking lighting installations and jazzy design features, including massive tiled columns, stucco floorboards of irregular lengths, and a long marble bar in a soft peachy shade. It’s all fringes and flounces with art deco influences, joyously mismatched effects, and leather and velvet furnishings. It’s more a welcoming parlour than a lobby, staffed by a young crew who offer Italian-inspired drinks to arriving guests before the formalities even get started.
Then the elevators whoosh you up and up to 82 guestrooms, arrayed along low-ceilinged corridors. The accommodation is divided into six categories, from bambina and piccolo to grande. As that last name signals, those are the biggest chambers, with a sitting area and, in the better options, facing Pitt St, with Darling Harbour glimpses between canyons of buildings. My guestroom, No 1301, has a curved mullioned window with black diagonal and semi-circular spokes that matches the 1930s original. It feels very Gotham City. If Batman had zoomed past, or at least a wayward flying fox, I’d scarce have been surprised.
Smallish ensuites, in tones of grey and bronze, are well-planned and smartly kitted-out with IIUVO Soigne lotions and washes. Lovely in-room touches include the makings of a pot of dolce motte cha (mixed fruits, chamomile, rosemary and lavender) that just requires boiling water to release a soothing aroma, and there’s a generous supply of Dilmah teabags and a Nespresso machine. Original artwork is abundant, the swirly-patterned mustard-coloured carpets work well, warm jarrah timbers gleam, reading lights are present and correct, and the big bed is deeply comfortable, but the pillows prove too hard for my liking.
Back at street level, amid banquettes, booths, high benches with long-legged orange chairs, and marble-topped tables for two or convivial groups, Puglia-born head chef Rosy Scatigna, late of Sydney’s Shell House and Michelin-starred restaurants in Europe and Britain, is at the helm. Her smallish but highly inventive “day to night” menu is marked by cosy and comfy dishes, just like Nonna used to make but with clear contemporary flourishes and unexpected ingredients. Olives are marinated in citrus. A madeleine is reinvented as a savoury sponge with nduja, preserved lemon and guanciale. House-made panfocaccia, a hybrid of bread and classic focaccia, is baked with spelt flour and garlic and almost a meal in itself. A flank steak is glazed with a butter made with salmoriglio, a southern Italian condiment of lemon juice, aromatic herbs, olive oil, salt and garlic. This is deceptively simple but inventive cooking that should ensure Bar Morris’s position as a hot neighbourhood hub. Of course there’s pasta, too, but expect light and unusual sauces, such as celeriac, hazelnuts and bay leaves stirred through plump strands of spaghettone.
The wine list of Australian and Italian labels includes biodynamic blends by Elisabetta Foradori, produced in the mountainous Trentino region. The Italian herbal liqueur amaro plays a key role in the cocktail menu. Two negroni mixes take the lead – a zesty style with Chinese five spice, and a bianco with yuzu-flavoured gin by Four Pillars. Trendy offerings such an aviation, espresso martini and Manhattan plus various spritzes also star on the list, but house specialties come with ingredients which range way beyond the expected, from lemon sorbet and ginger skin to Turkish dates and jasmine tea. And, for this non-drinker, the mocktails are next level. Dubbed the NONs, the standout is Red Mist, a whip-up by Brazilian bartender Julio of Lyre’s Italian spritz, peach extract, lemon juice and aquafaba. Its sweet-sour taste is remarkable and the cuff of foam sits like an Elizabethan ruff. It is, without question, the best mock I’ve tasted.
A continental breakfast is served at Bar Morris and in daylight, too, the space shines and glows. Cereals (including muesli with a hint of rosemary), pastries, yoghurts, fruit and good coffee set up guests for the day and the pear and frangipane tart is a sure hit. I imagine a Red Mist morning-starter would be perfectly acceptable as well. It’s easy to predict this space will quickly become a favourite for meet-ups and meals.
There is always the sense that hip hotels such as this are aimed squarely at the millennial market (or younger) and that may well be the case. Hotel Morris is privately owned but operated by Accor under its Handwritten Collection banner, a brand that sits on the scale somewhere around the MGallery Collection, which means mid-scale and pretty affordable. But as an older guest who values comfort over cred, I find Hotel Morris ticks the boxes. The guestrooms aren’t particularly memorable, but the service at Bar Morris is outstanding. From mocktail master Julio and Malaysian-born assistant venue manager Louis to gentle and lovely Phurba, from Nepal, a sense of true attentiveness could not be bettered. In the end, what guests of all ages value the most is an old-fashioned warm welcome. And, as a footnote, we might be channelling Roman Holiday at Hotel Morris but Chinatown is just across the way. From parmigiano and basil to fish sauce and bok choy? So good. So Sydney.
IN THE KNOW
Hotel Morris is at 42 Pitt St. Bar Morris opens for breakfast, lunch and dinner. The Capitol Theatre and World Square are in the immediate Haymarket precinct. Guest car-parking can be arranged in the vicinity. It’s about a five-minute walk to Central Station; trams run along nearby George St. Rooms from about $412 for two (Bambina category with queen-sized bed). Check opening specials.
Susan Kurosawa was a guest of Hotel Morris.
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