Grab your fork as we’re about to feast on a cute little swine. This is not just some ordinary swine. This 9.5kg fellow has a name. Trevor. How come? Why? What for? A coming of age. A delicious coming of age. As if the person behind Grab Your Fork isn’t delicious enough.
The location: Signorelli Gastronomia. That place tucked under some waterside office building down at Pyrmont Bay. It isn’t too challenging to find and when you do you may just struggle to get out in a hurry. Personally I had one problem. Arriving too early. I thought it was half an hour earlier than when I arrived so this little foodie decided to take a wander around the stark (of people) venue and see what it was all about. I can’t help but think this place reminds me of some kind of Simon Johnson, just more spacious and places to sit and, um, eat and drink. There’s a room devoted to vino and another one for the fromage, various shelves adorned with chocolates, pastas, sweets, preserves, you name it and the actual register used by Biaggio Signorelli himself.
With all this food and splashes of history around me, I’m feeling comfortable. Added the fact that I’m a tad early I’m made very welcome and encouraged to wander about and explore this food haven. Hell, it was all mine. There was nobody else around. I had to check out the wine list. I was in need. A NZ pinot noir sorts me out plus some bread, oil and olives and before I know it I spot a few blogger folk arriving on time for the porky celebration.
Once the rest of the food paparazzi (including The Lady With Her Fork) arrive we’re promptly showered with an amouse bouche of seared tuna and orange on an adorable spoon worthy of swiping and left to say grace with our cameras before downing the tasty morsel in one ravenous swoop. Tasty, especially with my after-sip of 2008 Nor’wester Pinot from Waipara (35).
Food served on wood seems to be the go at the mo and here at Signorelli’s our mo is all about finely shaved bits of goodness in the form of luscious and salty capocollo (3/20g) and velvety wagyu bresaola (5.5/20g). I’m glad I was sipping slurping a red as it was a salty match made in heaven.
The wood-fired pizza was soon to follow, three varieties in fact, yet the one I was most enamoured with went unphotographed. The garlic pizza. How dd I not photograph it? Lordie knows. Too many distractions. Great pizza all ’round.
This is the moment where the room went silent and regal trumpets started a symphony. Well, in my head anyway. Ladies and gents, Trevor has entered the room. On a wooden platter, bound, crispy and rigid, mind you. Somehow this little piggy had been named Trevor and following a flourish of photo activity Trev was hastily shredded (yes, shredded not carved) into fibres of tasty goodness. His ribs were removed before cooking him up and he was stuffed with meat, spices and herbs. The poor little fellow was almost boneless. Helen gets a leg, I swipe one as well and we both share the snout as we did at Chophouse a few months ago.
A surprise plate of chocolate cake for Helen comes out once we’re done with our porking and somehow I still have the words “You gotta eat some, it’s warm” bouncing around my head after it’s cut up (not shredded) and distributed. It really is delicious. Much like a wedge of chocolate brownie speared with white chocolate and prettied up with flowers and candied walnuts.
A while later, after we’ve moved on from our fab meal Suze reveals her box of caterpillars. Actually it was one tasty caterpillar segmented into vibrant and luscuious cupcakes iced in green tea buttercream complete with licorice legs and fondant covered head.
Happy Birthday Helen!