Helen Greenwood, Sydney Morning Herald, 23/11/2002
Some out-of-towners, a wild barramundi, a bottle of wine that brings back great memories ...
We meander down tree-lined Kent Street, drop into the Globe Bar at the Observatory Hotel and feel like tourists in our own town - which we almost are, given how rarely we venture into The Rocks these days. At the end of the street is the Lord Nelson Hotel, its lights glowing, drinkers toasting the setting sun. Across the road is Fish at The Rocks, housed in a building dating from 1919.

The note posted at the entrance says it was originally a "Premises constructed as a commercial facility to serve the burgeoning maritime residential suburb of Millers Point".
We presume (dirty minds) that this is a euphemism for a brothel, but, no. It was a shop that became a takeaway and, eventually, transformed into the cosy, sleek room with a nautical theme we can see through the picture window.

The let's-pretend-we're-visitors-in-our-own-town game is easy to play inside the restaurant, too. Retirement-age Americans in sailing shoes and striped tops chat across tables to other Americans (in the same get-up) they have just met. A trio with English accents orders beer. One of them, obviously a recent arrival, loudly extolls the attributes of the area.

This place is clearly earmarked by nearby hotels for out-of-towners. In fact, I was asked what hotel I was staying at when I booked an early nosh at late notice. But it has another side, too, as a local eatery. A chalk board out on the footpath offers takeaway - a friendly, neighbourly gesture for the denizens of Millers Point who pop in for a discreetly wrapped parcel during the evening.

We tourists settle in at marble-topped tables laid with, gosh, when was the last time we saw a fish knife? The room feels like a modernised Edwardian drawing room, decked with wooden venetian blinds, terracotta planter boxes, teal-coloured walls, flattering uplighting and handsome black-and-white photos of gorgeous old sailing boats. Even nicer is the smell of lemon-fresh fish when we come in. Instantly, I am happy.

The wine list arrives and we are so excited we stop breathing. The aged whites feature an old favourite, Mount Mary Triolet, for just $70. This was the wine that ignited a love affair and it usually sells at restaurants for much, much more. We order it, checking with the waitress to make sure there isn't a typo.

The food requires more thought. This isn't your average fish 'n' chippery, though beer batter features on the menu twice. For a start, there are blue-swimmer-crab cakes, sardine fillets in a tempura coriander batter, Sydney rock oysters and prawns grilled in a black pepper and herb crust.

But it's steamed black mussels for me. A pile of shells is tumbled on top of a smooth tomato broth, sweet with onions and warmed by cumin. I strip the small black mussels, so much juicier and more tender than those huge green-lips, into the sauce and spoon them up like soup.

My partner in dine is happy with his calamari, only lightly seasoned with salt and pepper. "It's not rubber bands," he says. It's yielding and crunchy and crumbed. The tartare is tangy and the little lemon dipping sauce is zingy and light.

Suddenly, one of the chatty Americans leans over. "Are you locals?" he asks. Damn, sprung. "Yes, we are." "What is a customary tip to leave?" he asks. Our response leads to a conversation about the bouillabaisse (his wife, a fan, is very happy with the one she has had) and his accent (via Wales).

It's all very cosy, right down to the bentwood chairs and runner rugs and the Mount Mary in our glasses is as fine as we remember. The mains are imaginative, nearly all seafood, except for a chicken dish. Even the steak is tuna.

Fillets of mahi mahi are done Cajun-style; fillets of blue-eye cod (now known as trevalla) have a mustard crust; Atlantic salmon is grilled and paired with Japanese sunomono salad. The pricier crustaceans include Queensland mud crab, Singapore chilli-style; Balmain bugs tossed with udon noodles; and South Australian lobster tails and West Australian scampi simply grilled and served with lemon or garlic butter.

Our choices arrive, whiting fillets in beer batter with hand-cut chips and a whole barramundi, deboned and roasted with chilli, vegetable and prawn stuffing.
The upmarket fish and chips are five big pieces of fish and brilliant chips from real potatoes. The $28.50 is justified (there is a cheaper version for $22.50).
When I stop pinching chips from partner's plate I dig into the barramundi. It's wild, not farmed, with a moist melting flesh; no bones is a bonus. The stuffing is perky. I try, then ignore, the coriander and coconut cream sauce that pools around the fish.

The Americans leave, and our desserts replace them as our focus of interest. The selection is reminiscent of hotel room service, designed with the tourists in mind: trio of sorbets, passionfruit brulee, apple and cinnamon crepes, caramelised banana with rum and raisin ice-cream, white and dark chocolate cake.

The surprise inclusion is affogato, my current obsession, a bitter-sweet mix of espresso and ice-cream. I have decided that as my colleague David Dale is to tiramisu, so I will be to affogato: hunting for the ultimate version wherever I go. Our waitress offers me a choice of cointreau or brandy (a no-brainer, brandy of course). It's not bad; strangely short on the palate due to an over-creamy ice-cream. The pleasant macadamia and date pudding could be livened up by a less cloying caramel sauce.

As we leave, the loud Brit boasts to his mates about piles of prawns at the Sydney Fish Market market while outside, the bells at the Holy Trinity Garrison Church ring. OUT OF TEN Food 7 Smart, bright imaginative seafood that showcases the best we have to offer. Service 7 Varied from professional to hesitant, depending on the waiter. Atmosphere 9 Convivial and nautical without a trace of kitsch. Value 8 $106 for two without wine. Skip dessert and you have a great-value night out.

Where Magazine, 03/03/00
This family owned, seafood brasserie-style restaurant, nestled in the heart of the historic Rocks area and only minutes from major hotels is a find indeed. Far away from the madding crowd, experience the warm casual atmosphere with friendly personal service. Enjoy the excellent menu of fresh quality seafood and delicious daily specials. A thoughtfully chosen wine list, is also available by the glass and BYO.

Daily Telegraph 07/02/00
To eat here hadn't been the plan, but on first impressions Fish At The Rocks looked like it would ideally suit our after-theatre mood. To paraphrase a popular cereal's punch line, a "not too heavy, not too light" supper was what we were after. Seared tuna, baby spinach with roast capsicum and creamed horseradish, $14.50, and barbecue baby calamari marinated in oregano, coriander and lime tossed with lemon vinaigrette, $10 with a side serve of flavoursome chips,$4, came the response. (Main courses are $16 up to $24.50.) Wine is offered by the glass (from $4), but we opted for Moondah Brook Verdelho at $25 a bottle. Crusty bread arrived unannounced, as did glasses of waiter - it's attention to detail that makes customers happy every time. Blend all this with an unpretentious atmosphere and an obvious pride in the building’s enduring links with Sydney’s maritime history-wonderful barque images line the walls - and you have a great dining experience. It may not be new and minimalistic - but then isn't that the charm of The Rocks?

Sun Herald 12/03/00
You know how some seafood establishments serve up the odd piece of chicken or steak? Fish at the Rocks doesn't. It is seafood only, which is fine, unless you happen to dine there with a non-fish eater. Fortunately there was barbecued baby calamari in oregano, coriander and lime (beautifully tender), sizzling garlic prawns and Thai fish cakes to tide the fish hater over. The sole grilled with lemongrass butter was similarly excellent. So too were the barbecued West Australian sardine fillets. Service was fast and friendly and the atmosphere is all fairy lights and flower pots.