The first thing I notice when I step inside The White Horse, Surry Hills' 1930's pub that’s recently undergone a multimillion-dollar renovation, is that it’s not really a pub anymore. Long-time hospo pro Craig Hemmings, the former general manager of Quay, Bilson’s and Chin Chin, took the reins of the old girl last year, and it’s clear not a cent has been spared in the fit-out design, led by Farago Han Studio (the same interior designers behind Darlinghurst’s neighbourhood boozer, The Waratah).
The public bar has moved upstairs, so the ground floor is now home to a restaurant worthy of a wolf whistle (if it weren’t 2024). Featuring warm, golden lighting, oak tables and contrasting textures in an earthy colour palette – save for a few splashes of colour: bold and striking art with reds and pinks, and an emerald-green sculpture that reminds me of a chocolate fountain – it’s a calming and sophisticated space ready to rival the city’s fine diners.
Except that it’s not a fine diner, if we’re going on the prices. Which leads me to the second thing that I notice: every wine by the glass is under $20 (drops from the Hunter, McLaren Vale, NZ’s Nelson and Italy’s Friuli, among others) with most sitting around the $15 mark. I can’t remember the last time I've seen those prices in a flash restaurant – and most certainly not in the 2010 postcode.
View this post on Instagram
Hemmings has brought on stellar talent to help The White Horse win the race. Sorry, create a memorable dining experience for Sydneysiders. The first being James Audas from Lo-Fi Wines, who’s in charge of the vino, and top-notch cocktail shaker Michael Chiem from his award-winning PS40. One glance at the cocktail menu and it looks like what you’d find at your local fruit and veg grocer: strawberries, rhubarb, grapefruit, pomegranate, plum and lime; a celebration of gorgeous produce. I begin with a Malfoy’s Blunder, made with gin, yuzu and lemon that’s bright and citrusy with a hint of balanced sweetness thanks to wild honey.
Heading up the kitchen is executive chef Jed Gerrard, whose CV shows time on the pans at Tetsuya’s and Bilson’s, as well as Western Australia’s Hearth and Wills Domain. Here, the brief is ethically sourced produce from respected producers, as well as a spotlight on native ingredients. This comes to fruition in a killer snack of crisp and golden roasted chicken skin topped with creamy liver mousse, little persimmon wings and a dusting of Davidson plum. The crunch of the salty skin combined with the minerality of the mousse, sweetness from the fruit and tartness from the plum is ace. I could eat ten of them.
A smoked eel dip arrives covered in a herb snow that looks like moss found in a forest, alongside a plate of rainbow-coloured crudites to double dip as we please (my date and I are childhood best friends – so it’s OK). The dip is creamy and airy with a subtle smokiness thanks to the eel, and the radish, witlof and zucchini flowers bring crunch and freshness. I’ll be honest: I've never been a huge fan of this river fish, but after this cracking dip, I think trout needs to watch its back.
Next, the humble beetroot is transformed into a showstopper dish; a riff on a millefeuille, which sees the root vegetable thinly sliced and curled up tightly like a rope. I cut through it with a knife, and the beetroot is so tender, it’s as if I’m cutting through pages of a book made of butter. Around the beetroot is a pink sauce made from the roasted beetroot juices, which is studded with muntries (a type of native berry) and pools of native thyme oil. It tastes like a jus from a roast, but creamier and sweeter, and sans the meat. In the words of RuPaul: you’re a winner, baby.
We stay on the land with our main of Magra lamb. It's pink and rosy, and its fat is rendered well, so it’s salty and caramelised. It’s paired with a glossy and sticky sauce and a pretty cucumber garden filled with a creamy pistachio and herb filling. I reckon lamb can either be a hit or not memorable, and this delivers on both presentation and taste. The same can be said about the whole of The White Horse, really.
I head upstairs to the public bar for a nightcap Negroni and see it’s more like a chic cocktail lounge with an additional events room, as opposed to a rollicking pub, though I imagine the rooftop terrace that’s lush with greenery will go off when the sun’s out. I don’t know how many tipsy punters will be keen to walk through the dining room to get up here, but time will tell. Anyway, it’s obvious Hemmings and his silent partners placed their bets on this restaurant being the drawcard, and I'm no gambling expert, but I feel they chose wisely.
The White Horse ticks a lot of boxes: exciting, clever and most importantly, delicious plates of food, a beautiful dining room, and prices that offer good value. While it may be a new path for this old mare, I’m glad to be along for the ride. And if you haven’t yet visited: giddy up.