A fabulous taste of Berowra Waters

April 2021 5 min read

I first clapped eyes on the little marina, and the houses that line Berowra Creek under the lee of a bushy escarpment, during an arduous but spectacular hike back in November 2020. (click here for my story on that walk) I had no idea before that moment that the settlement of Berowra Waters existed. The Berowra Waters Inn, yes. I’d been hankering to go there ever since I first heard about it, back in the olden days as my kids like to describe the years before they were born. The place shimmered in my imagination, much like Xanadu, a place of refracted sunlight on water and food cooked to perfection.

 From the opposite side of Berowra creek, the Inn looks ethereal on its sandstone base, topped with glass louvres and a row of crystalline white chairs and round tables. It is an understatement to say that its fabled architect, Glen Murcutt, knew a thing or two about how to elide architecture in to the Australian bush. Completed in 1983, Berowra Waters Inn is a thing of beauty.

 A genius called Brian Geraghty has been the owner of Berowra Waters Inn (BWI) since 2012. His cooking CV includes stints in renowned kitchens in Paris, New York and Dublin. He works the floor, too, or did so during the sublime Sunday lunch of my friends and family. This story, as you will discover, is less a “Weekend Away”, than a homage to the BWI.

But I digress, first we must drive down the zig-zag road from Berowra Heights to catch the car ferry over to the marina, which is such a rare adventure it really does feel like the olden days. Then it’s the heave ho of our groceries and cases to the public wharf where Col, our friendly boatman, is waiting.  He divides our party of 8 in to 2 groups for the 5-minute run to 8 Dusthole Point, our rental house for the weekend. Once in-situ, there’s no going anywhere, unless you swim, take a kayak or can operate the 2-stroke engine on the tinnie or walk on water. Which is idyllic.

Light-filled interior of 8 Dusthole Point

 Col tells us he’s lived in BW for 26 years and is almost a local. He also warns us that the possums and goannas can smell food a mile off and will sneak in at a moment’s notice. That very night, a large Brushtail possum sits on the bbq for a long while, bold as brass. Col is a man worth making friends with, both for his knowhow and supply of firewood.

 By the time we’ve settled in and unpacked the absurd amount of food and wine, the afternoon light is fading and there’s nothing for it but to gaze at the lovely watery view from the front deck. Naturally, this requires a libation and a cheese plate. And so on in to the serene moonlit night.

View from our pontoon on the second night, as the clouds came rolling in

 We have arranged for Berowra Waters Inn to collect us by boat at 1pm on Sunday, so a few of us spend the morning puttering up and down the creek in the tinnie. Though creek seems a misnomer for this broad stretch of water upon which we could chug all the way to Newcastle if we had the derring do. One day, I would love to visit the three Bays of Neverfail, Deep and Half-Moon, where sandy shelves are exposed at low tide. This time round, we don’t quite trust the tinnie’s engine, so have to be content with checking out the quirky real-estate that hugs the shore. In the olden days, according to Col, it could take up to 3 years to sell one of these houses, but just recently one of them sold in 3 days for a princely sum. I trail a hand in the creek and surrender to fantasies of a life in Berowra Waters.

 Our party of six, keenly anticipating lunch, are ready on the dot of 1pm. It’s no surprise that being chauffeured in a boat is a pretty nice way to start things off. We disembark at the Berowra Waters Inn ramp and troop up the stairs to take our seats at one of those round tables I spied months earlier on that hike. It’s such a lovely day we agree to a round of oysters and a bottle of bubbles. And that’s before the kangaroo pastrami on rye and the crumpet with sea urchin & chives, the amuse-bouche that tickle the tastebuds prior to the 7-course Autumn Menu. We’re in no hurry, and that’s good as the restaurant is full and the service amiably measured.  My eyes keep falling on the musky olive water, the satin blue sky and the myriad of greens on the far escarpment. I feel as if I’m in an Arthur Boyd painting. It’s as magical inside the restaurant as out.

View from inside BWI, with louvre reflections

 We opt for the Classic drink pairing and let our host/sommelier Michael Higgins take charge (the word “waiter” doesn’t quite do him justice). As ready with an anecdote as a top up, Michael is a master at his job - all easy-going savoir faire that makes for a great Aussie dining experience.

It would be too boring to detail the dishes; all I will say is that the terse descriptions of the menu are no indication of the complex and intricate dishes that arrive on gorgeous ceramics. The flower-like first course of scallops, nashi & cucumber tasted so zingily fresh I will never forget it. That and the small but dense roll of salmon were my stand-outs. Each dish is a work of art, and in perfect harmony, the lighter balanced by the richer.

 It’s worth noting that one of our party is allergic to seafood and that the kitchen rose to the occasion with delicacies such as pumpkin mousse with pickled ginger, baked turnip with white radish and a morsel of succulent quail. I’d wager that vegetarians, vegans and anyone else with special food needs will find them well met here.

 The afternoon passes dreamily, as it should during a long lunch, an effect heightened by the arrival of the dinky sea plane which pulls up right outside to let its glamorous passengers in high heels have their moment of glory. It’s all impossibly extravagant and our happy group is putty in the hands of Mr Higgins. We agree to everything and outlast every other diner. But it is the case that we have two 60ths, a 50th and a wedding anniversary to celebrate, so what the hell.

The effervescent Mr Higgins at work

 Before we know it, the sun has vanished and the stars are peeping out by the light of a blazing moon. After coffee and macadamia Kahlua and petit fours, we pay our sensational bill and get to meet the talented chefs wrapping up things in the kitchen. I had assumed an army were at work in there, but it turns out there are only two cooks, and they are disarmingly modest. If our single, admittedly lengthy, visit is anything to go by, the team at Berowra Waters Inn are a class act. When we pull sadly away from the boat ramp, they stand in a row and farewell us, silhouetted against Murcutt’s louvres like paper dolls.

 Back at 8 Dusthole Point, we rather groggily watch a mist come in over the hills and I wake early to find the house swaddled.  It’s a world of soft silvery grey. Down at the pontoon, I watch a duck pooter about as the mist slowly recedes. Autumn is a lovely time to be at Berowra Waters, the mornings and evenings are crisp and the days just right for a very languid, very liquid celebratory lunch.

Misty morning from the pontoon at No 8 Dusthole Pt

EXTRA

8 Dusthole Point can be booked through Stayz. Property ID is # 9200126

Berowra Waters Holidays will arrange accommodation, fishing trips, boat hire and pretty much anything else you might fancy. https://berowrawatersholidays.com.au/

Berowra Waters Inn has a comprehensive website with the current menu, prices and useful links. They also list the accommodation from which they will pick up diners.
https://www.berowrawatersinn.com/

The Berowra Waters Ferry is free, takes about 3 minutes and operates 7 days a week except for the 2nd Tuesday each month (see https://roads-waterways.transport.nsw.gov.au/)

You can either drive to Berowra Waters from the North Shore side and catch the ferry, or take the Galston route and arrive direct on the marina side. We arrived on the North Shore and took the Galston route home.