Scruffy Murphy’s is more associated with glassings than gastronomy. As a serious foodie who eats at least three times a day, I’m a little nervous about what the chef will plate up.
In the bain-maire at Four Seasons Chicken Spot in Kings Cross, the pickings are slim but fatty.
With three professional fights to his name Ben Wrotniak is far from a seasoned boxer. You can imagine people still describing the 26-year-old as “a good kid.”
A tribute to two Sydney surgeons has been molested by people who can’t understand the simple instruction, “Rub my nose.”
A statue and two plaques commemorate the life of an explorer’s much-loved feline friend, but gloss over his grisly end.
The Sydney sold in tourism ads is one of golden beaches, blue skies and a sparkling harbour. In a series of noirish photographs Christian Ferreiro, a graphic designer, has captured an altogether different place.
The RSPCA’s fundraising day was full of good intentions. But Jeremy Chunn found that with thousands of well-fed dogs, the scene soon turned ugly.
“What is that thing?… And what’s that smell?” Anyone who’s spent enough time in North Bondi for the wind to change direction will have heard a visitor ask such questions.
A French-born artist’s twenty year devotion to his work has turned a patch of graffiti into a Sydney landmark.