I would risk my life for this fried chicken dish
As well as a Hawaiian poke-inspired salmon tartare, a cinnamon scroll that I'll never understand and a revisit of an iconic Brisbane mussel dish
Ikkaku Yakiniku
The Sunnybank Plaza parking situation is far too perilous for how many good restaurants and grocers there are. I like driving to dinner because it’s mostly efficient and saves me money but if it means I have to do laps of a hilly carpark in my 2007 Toyota Corolla, count me out.
There is, however, only one thing I would drive up three flights of narrow concrete for: fried chicken cartilage. That’s right — bite-sized pieces of crunchy chicken cartilage (the white stuff that’s neither bone nor meat, edible I promise) dipped in karaage batter and fried until golden. Squeeze of lemon, dip of kewpie, bob’s your uncle. It’s crunchy, light, textural heaven.
The first time I had this glorious izakaya dish was at a yakitori bar in Taipei and I thought about it a lot thereafter. The first time I’ve seen it on a menu in Brisbane (or Australia for that matter) is at Ikkaku Yakiniku — a Japanese barbecue restaurant in the plaza.
Of course, I didn’t go to Japanese barbecue just for cartilage (but don’t threaten me with a good time) — the meat selection was small but had all the essentials and more: basic cuts of wagyu, A5 wagyu, pork belly and jowl, marinated chicken thigh and veg.
They also had a small raw selection of salmon sashimi and beef and salmon tartare. The salmon tartare was Hawaiian-style with diced avocado and mango, red onion and aburi salmon. I’d recommend eating it over some rice with extra soy — a nice poke break from the rich meat.
For drinks, I love umeshu (plum wine) to death. They also have lemon sours and 2 for 1 beers on weeknights for those who didn’t drive (I’m jealous).
The service was a bit of a miss — they brought over our to-be-grilled wagyu before they’d even turned the grill on and didn’t realise it’d never been turned on so we just sat there trying to flag someone down for ten minutes. The staff didn’t seem to know which meat was what (train your staff!). They also didn’t clear any empty plates or glasses throughout the meal, which seems like the bare minimum when there’s approximately one waitperson for every two customers.
341 Mains Rd, Sunnybank QLD
Banneton Bakery
There are three types of Brisbane bakeries:
The new age, minimalist, all stainless steel bakeries with no seating and seasonal twists on classics (usually rhubarb is involved), trendy sandwiches (chicken cutlet or beef and pickles) and a large range of cold pressed juice.
French patisserie/boulangerie: lots of wood, simple design, fresh fruit danishes, kouign amanns, very golden brown very voluminous plain croissants, gargantuan almond croissants.
The old school Australian bakery where 75% of the space is the pastry cabinet, there’s someone wearing a hairnet and there are eight different pie flavours. Staples like vanilla slice, apple turnover, lamington and finger buns are always present.
Banneton is a mix of the last two — they make the most classic French pastries (no rhubarb here) but you can also get fruit mince tarts and beef pie. Not a single frill in sight and if that’s what you’re in the mood for, this is the perfect place to stop.
This was a slightly above average blueberry danish — there wasn’t too much custard (less is more IMO, it’s not a custard tart, people!), the blueberries were nicely tart but could’ve improved on that signature danish crispy edge and thick-ish laminated dough.
I also tried the cinnamon scroll for which I wasn’t the biggest fan — it was impractically large and dry but I appreciated how much cinnamon sugar there was.
The ham and swiss baguette was a highlight — pillowy, crusty baguette (not too hard as to cut the roof of your mouth); thick-cut ham; good amount of swiss cheese; and fresh lettuce and tomato makes for a simple, delightful lunch.
I wouldn’t be able to tell if the chicken curry pie was chicken curry if I tried it without knowing beforehand — that’s how un-spiced it was. Was it Thai green curry? Malaysian chicken curry? A sweet Japanese curry? No one knows. Standard mid-range pie pastry, nothing to write home about.
Reviewed location: 25 Balaclava St, Woolloongabba (multiple locations)
Bosco
Brisbane is obsessed with woodfire restaurants ever since Agnes opened in 2020. People lost their minds over those basque cheesecakes. I’m relieved to report I’ve seen a decline in woodfired restaurants (not that I dislike them — it just got old because everyone was making woodfired duck, shishito peppers and sardine toast).
When Bosco opened in late 2023, it felt like the woodfired concept had evolved enough to be interesting again. Their food is grounded in Spanish flavours and techniques but there are French and Italian touches throughout. There’s gilda and Spanish tortilla and whole suckling pig — a rare offering that I have only respect for.
Their signature dish is their mussels in a cider cream sauce with their house como vienna (classic Italian hearth bread). The mussels themselves were plump and soft as they were the first time I had this dish (back when they first opened) but the cream sauce was far more unctuous and thick this time — it used to be more of a cream broth, light and briny and moreish, a wondrous bath for the (very good) bread. It was still well-seasoned and I love that they’ve stuck to the same uniform presentation.
Before the mussels, I snacked on baccala mantecato, a Venetian appetiser of whipped salt cod on toast. This was texturally sound — the crumbly chickpea vessel (arguably too crumbly — needed better structural integrity) was a necessary contrast for the creamy fish spread. Nicely seasoned but needed a pop of acid.
What’s tapas without croquetas? This particular one was pork — quite savoury and fried nicely but needed half a pinch more salt.
I also had the baked crab with Pedro Ximinez (sweet sherry often drunken as a digestif), lovely spiced crab but slightly one-dimensional dish. The bread was the best part: Sliced in a pull-apart fashion, sweetish, great crust.
Beans on the side were ‘ember cooked’ but lacked smokiness and could’ve used some char — when in Rome! Ajo blanco and migas (stale breadcrumb topping similar to pangrattato) accompaniments were quite good. Will be renditioned in my own kitchen.
8 Austin St, Newstead QLD
Becca Wang is a freelance writer and food and drink columnist. She has by-lines in Broadsheet, Boothby, Gourmet Traveller, RUSSH and others. She is also the founding editor of Hawker Magazine, a food and culture publication. You can keep up with her at @supper.partying.