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I like my dinners participatory. While Iâm shelling the prawns to make a cheeky last-minute broth, a couple of guests are debating the wine line-up, another is sobbing his way through onion duty, and the latecomer has been relegated to grating reggiano to a texture we all agree is just right to give the risotto a good life.
At Bismarck House in Bondi, the participation is heightened as commentary wafts in from passers-by peering through the grand aperture that opens the kitchen up to the side laneway, creating a (literal) dialogue between inside and out.
An evening flâneur approves the cooking odour; a skater coyly suggests the zinfandel over the pinot grigio. In return, one guest decides to do some yoga poses on the generous timber window seat.