On a quiet, rainy Spring afternoon, Bottega Coco glows with a warmth that beckons us in from the streets of Barangaroo. We take our seats on the velvet-covered banquette and gaze at the kaleidoscope of coloured bottles of spirits and liquors that line the wall behind the bar. We’re served glasses of sparkling prosecco and strike up a conversation with the couple seated next to us on the banquette. It’s the kind of place that balances luxe furnishings with a welcoming, friendly atmosphere that makes you feel you’re in the fancy living room of a well-connected friend. I would have happily stayed there by the bar, ordering cocktails and eating wood-fired pizza, but we’re here for something more creative – a pasta-making masterclass.
We’re whisked upstairs to join eight strangers in a wood-panelled room with a ceiling covered in floral wallpaper. Our charming instructor Matthew, one of Bottega Coco’s chefs, tells us to each take a place at one of ten ‘stations’ around the room where all the ingredients to make pasta have been carefully measured out into separate containers. We wash our hands at the marble-topped basin in the corner, and tie on our fresh, starched black aprons.
At this point, order blends into culinary mayhem. At Chef’s instruction, I tip out the 100 grams of flour (80g of plain flour, 20g of semolina) and create a well in the middle of the pile of flour. It’s time to crack the eggs. Some people are apprehensive and precise, others do it one handed and there’s plenty of fishing out errant fragments of shell and lots of laughter. I use a fork to whisk the egg into the flour, then use my hands to gather up the last bits of flour and knead it all into a dough. It’s fun to getting hands messy, to not worry about the flour flying in the air onto aprons or the imperfection of my lumps of dough.
Five pasta machines are fastened to the tabletops, and I now push the dough through the simple silver machines. After a few rotations I get the hang of it yielding wide, yellow strips of thin pasta. Then I change the settings and cut the sheets into fettucine ribbons. I fling thin strands of pasta into the air before they’re twisted into nests and placed carefully in take-home containers.
Following the pasta-making we have a brief pasta-themed trivia session (did you know there are over 600 different shapes of pasta?), answers are shouted out as our group is cracking up. My pasta buddies started as strangers and we are all having fun. Despite being a room of strangers we’re all having a good time. We head downstairs and take our seats in the to take a seat at a long table in the restaurant.
The second half of the pasta-masterclass experience starts with another glass of prosecco (yes please!) and a plate of antipasti with prosciutto, two types of salami and three types of cheese. There’s a salad of greens, olives, tomatoes and shaved parmesan; pappardelle pasta with meat ragu sauce, and wood-fired pizza. It’s simple food, easily shared and I can see how Bottega Coco is a great place for friends to catch up over a casual weeknight meal.
The a la carte menu has shows there are more sophisticated meals on offer like crispy confit duck, wagyu carpaccio or fresh gnocchi with zucchini flowers. Beyond the main meals, the in-house patisserie promises Italian favourites like tiramisu and cannolicannolo, and truly unique creations like the Cloudberry Bliss — a delicate confection of coconut pannacotta, strawberry mousse and meringue. The service is kind and friendly and Bottega Coco is feels like a place that would be lovely for any meal – fresh croissant, still warm from the oven, for breakfast? Yes, please!
As the afternoon melts into evening, we’ve finished our pasta masterclass and communal dinner, we all and everyone disperses into the streets of Barangaroo. The rain-washed laneways are dotted with people and we join the line at the gelateria opposite. Is there anything more Italian than finishing a wonderful meal with a twilight stroll by the water and a cone of gelato?
A few days later I cook my home-made pasta, mixed with a green pesto. It’s much better than supermarket-bought pasta, but it can’t compete with the silky, perfectly cooked pappardelle I tried at Bottega Coco. I make a mental note to leave the pasta-making to the experts (especially now I know where I can find them!).
Bottega Coco, T3.01/300 Barangaroo Ave, Barangaroo NSW 2000
See website for the latest details of their classes
