This overlooked spot is perfect for dates and mates – and a stonking-good Sunday roast

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A few weeks ago, I reviewed Bennelong at the Sydney Opera House for this column, primarily because it’s a restaurant I enjoy very much, but also because it was the two-hatter’s 10th birthday. Meanwhile, Jangling Jack’s Bar & Grill is celebrating a decade in business, too. Like Bennelong, it’s one of the city’s best spots to drink a martini and eat dolled-up prawn toast, but unlike the Peter Gilmore-led fine diner, it tends to be overlooked by the food and drink media (hello).

Jangling Jack’s is in a leafy part of Potts Point, two blocks from the main drag, but when you’re inside, you could be anywhere in the world (or, at least, any country that worships steaks, chips and rock𝄒n𝄒roll). I’ve always thought it felt more like a neighbourhood boozer native to Newtown or Nashville, what with all the blues posters, Bob Dylan’s get-off-my-lawn snarl on the speakers and brass plaques with names of regulars fixed to the bar.

“It’s funny you say that,” says co-owner Erin Reeves during a fact-check phone call. “A lot of people have said it feels like New York, but a customer from London recently said the space reminds her of home.” Whatever the case, it’s obvious that Jangling Jack’s has been created by real people (Reeves and her partner, Jon Ruttan) with real likes and interests (Resch’s, Dr. John, underground punk art of the 1980s). I can usually smell cynicism at 500 paces and there’s not a whiff of it here.

There is, however, a stonking-good Sunday roast, served with crunchy, Hasselback spuds and a golden-brown nimbus of Yorkshire pudding. Minted peas and noble gravy are along for the ride, and the meat du jour rotates between the big four (pork, beef, lamb and deboned and rolled chicken). Visit on a Sunday and you’ll also be treated to live jazz led by Nick Jansen on bass, although you’ll want to squeeze in early for a guaranteed table: Jangling Jack’s is open from 4pm daily and doesn’t take bookings.

The compact menu is a grab bag of what Reeves, Ruttan and chef Gihyun Jang (and Sydneysiders, generally) like to eat. Anchovy toast. Cacio e pepe. Chicken schnitzel. A spot-on sticky-date pudding to pair with some pretty ace whisky. There’s a non-greasy cheeseburger licked with flame from the grill. There’s a Big Kahuna burger because nothing says “We’re here to have fun!” like a juicy patty and pineapple between bread. There’s a crumbed tofu burger because vegetarians.

A pulpy cauliflower dip is jump-started with mustard leaves and perilla oil, and house-baked focaccia is on hand to swipe up the grey-green mish-mash. “Prawn toast” comes out as three puffy little snacks disguised as macarons, their creamy, prawn filling tempering the Lightning Girl house cocktail (a ferocious-delicious margarita riff with mandarin-infused tequila, lime and habanero syrup). The steak frites is $25 every Tuesday (cheap!) and does what is says on the tin: ruddy fillet, lots of caper butter, well-seasoned fries. I don’t ask where the cow came from or how long it was dry-aged – it’s not that sort of place.

I do ask Reeves why she thinks Jangling Jack’s has clocked up 10 years, though, while many other venues in the area were victims of lock-out laws and COVID-19. She says it’s because her and Ruttan work hard to keep the prices reasonable and deliver a high standard of service every day. I say it’s also because the cocktails feel like celebrations rather than science experiments and staff are genuinely interested to know your name. Long may it, and Sydney’s other independent bars, prosper.

Good Food reviews are booked anonymously and paid independently. A restaurant can’t pay for a review or inclusion in the Good Food Guide.

This review was originally published in Good Weekend magazine