A couple of months ago we caught the train up to Berowra to visit some friends and it was on the home-bound train that I noticed how close the town of Woy Woy actually was to Berowra. Only four stops north. Seeing I’d never been there, it got me researching where may be good to eat and at the same time teaching me that Woy Woy supposedly comes from the aboriginal word Wy Wy, meaning “much water” or “big lagoon”. I’m feeling much wiser now.
Food-wise, there’s not a great deal going on in this part of the big lagoon. A few cafe’s, pubs, local pizza and Thai joints and Fishermen’s Wharf, a magnet for family folk on sunny Sunday mornings such as this one.
Fishermen’s Wharf has two eating options. Facing the street is a covered area casually strewn with benches for the takeaway punters and just down the side veranda is the restaurant and bar, perched above the rippling water and clusters of live oysters. On a warm sunny day I can only assume the windows are hinged open so diners can appreciate the watery mangrove scenery and cool breezes, but in the dregs of winter everything is cosily closed.
The menu is smaller than I expected but it does cover the basics like fish & chips and seafood platters, plus a dinner-time only lobster mac & cheese. I thought it was appropriate to grab a cider and thank christ I did as the anchovy toast (8.5) needed something light and fizzy to cut through the copious amount of oil soaking the toasted bread roll. The topping of minced anchovy and grated parmesan is an absolute dream to eat, but it’s the oil-logged bread that gets sickly after the first few bites. I swear my arteries were twitching in discomfort.
Almost an hour passed when the waitress realised we had more food coming, woops we’ve been forgotten about, and the rest of our dishes came out of the kitchen. First we have an entrée size of barbecued scampi (21.5) simply served with lemon wedge and sweet chilli sauce. I wasn’t a fan of the sauce or the long blonde hair nestled amongst the scampi but the sweet flesh of the crustacean was to die for. The other half tucks into pan-fried barramundi (28.5) and declares it one of the best pieces of fish he’s ever had. Like a seagull I swoop in see what all the fuss is about. Bloody hell, it really was good. The white flesh was silky and creamy and so fresh I’m sure it was caught that morning.
A pot of mussels (24.5) is always a good thing to get stuck into on a relatively chilly day and these black little fella’s warmed the insides nicely with the mild chilli and tomato broth. All that was missing was a little seasoning but thanks to salt and pepper sitting on the table, and a crusty roll to mop up the juices, I was happy.
Six petite Sydney rock oysters (13.9) provided some briny freshness and a hefty cutlet of grilled Spanish mackerel (27.5) didn’t fail to impress.
Sadly I wasn’t so happy with the sour lime pie (8.5) as I, for some reason, was imagining something along the lines of key lime pie rather than the ordinary fridge-set lime cheesecake that was delivered. We declined the coffee offer as the ones we had at Gnostic Mana around the corner were so nice we were heading back for seconds before the train trip back to the big smoke. Hmm, methinks we’ll be doing more daytrips like this in the future.