Maurice Terzini’s insider guide to Sydney

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I grew up in Melbourne in the early 1990s, the city’s post-punk/jazz/disco years, with the rise of all the laneway bars and cafés, which kind of set it up as Australia’s rocking, urban city. I launched Caffé e Cucina there, which was quite culturally important for Melbourne.

Then I moved to Sydney in 1999; I was giving myself a break from working, and (the late billionaire property developer) Lang Walker made me an offer I couldn’t refuse: to launch a restaurant, which eventually became Otto Ristorante at the Wharf. Sydney, I’d always felt, was the beach capital of the country, and I was really drawn to that. It still surprises me to see someone in the middle of a metropolis with a surfboard.

Being a secular punk boy from Melbourne, I did a year in Surry Hills. It was a whole other thing back then, much more powerfully gay than it is now, and I was out clubbing every night. Then I went to Bondi. There was a lot of new electronic music and a gallery opening every week back then. Now that’s all gone because it’s become expensive, and those people have moved up to Byron or wherever. But that was a powerful scene for me, and for what Icebergs was when I opened it in 2002.

Potts Point is where I live now. It feels as urban as Sydney gets, which I enjoy. I eat early these days, having two young sons, and having spent a lifetime eating at two o’clock in the morning. I like Bistrot 916 – I take the boys and we’ll have a nice steak frites or a scotch fillet. I also go to The Apollo a lot. Those guys have been on since day one; the food is real Greek, no frills, it just comes out consistently good. It’s like my home kitchen. Piccolo Bar, in Kings Cross, is nice for a drink. It opened in the ’50s as this kind of Italian café-diner; when it closed a few years back two customers reopened it as a café before bartender Dave Spanton took it over as an aperitivo/cocktail bar in 2021. And I go to Zinc (77 Macleay St) for my coffee because it’s on my run route and they know my order. 

There are places I will leave Potts Point for: Ursula’s, in Paddington, is outstanding. Phil Wood is one of my favourite chefs. On Oxford Street there’s a branch of P&V Merchants, who specialise in natural wines from smaller producers and small-batch spirits, most of them Australian. It’s always good for a discovery, and there’s a little wine bar as well.

The beaches are 100 per cent egalitarian; once you’re down there, no one cares who you are

But the good thing about my neighbourhood is how close you are to so much. The Museum of Contemporary Art is over in The Rocks; my boys’ mother [fashion designer] Lucy [Hinckfuss] takes them there almost every weekend, because there’s always something on. We go to the Art Gallery of New South Wales all the time too. I love what they did with the addition of the SANAA-designed Sydney Modern Project. You know you’re in Sydney when you’re in that space. I don’t go to galleries [here] to feel like I’m in Paris. 

I only really wear Rick Owens, so I buy most of that online. That said, there is some amazing retail here. Dion Horstmans is a dear friend who makes beautiful steel sculptures; you can visit his studio on Saturdays or by appointment. Song for the Mute is a great example of Sydney style – it started as a pop-up on King Street, with men’s and womenswear that’s really conceptual, and opened a flagship on George Street in the CBD last year. And Lucy Folk, who makes jewellery, has a little shop just off Bondi Beach. It has a lot of character.

I’m a big believer in public facilities, something Australia has always done really well. The beaches are 100 per cent egalitarian; once you’re down there, no one cares who you are. One of the most magnificent places in Sydney, for me, is Marks Park in South Bondi – this green space on a headland on one of the most beautiful coastlines, for everyone to enjoy. I remember playing with my boys there a few years ago on an amazing day and just thinking, “Fuck me, man, here we are.” I might be charging you, like, 400 bucks a head down at the Icebergs, but anyone can come here with some anchovies, salami and a nice bit of mozzarella, sit on a park bench on top of the ocean and have the picnic of all picnics. How good is that?