A Photoless Visit to Dulwich Hill

The above photo, just to catch your attention, is from a corner in Newtown after my walk through Dulwich Hill. I don’t have photos from Dulwich Hill because I felt out of place with my camera. The neighborhood isn’t touristy at all, but my little digital camera is.

Why did I want to walk around the humble westerly neighborhood? The New York Times told me to. Well, it didn’t tell me to, but it convinced me to. (Newspapers are good at doing that.) I’d read an article called “In Dulwich Hill, Sydney, Finding the World in a Few Blocks,” and hey, if that’s where the world is, that’s where I’ll go.

Believe it or not, I think I found a good chunk of the world. I must have heard four or five different languages just as I walked down Marrickville Road. I got off the bus in what would probably still be considered Marrickville and made my way to Dulwich Hill. There’s nothing flashy about either part of town. It’s no Paddington or Balmoral. It’s a working class area with a diverse immigrant population. The streets are lined with discount stores, butcheries, Portuguese chicken shops, Greek cafés and Lebanese patisseries (with more unassuming pastries than Balmain). There’s even an Egyptian restaurant. Very few chains to be found.

A prime example of the authentic local feel came when I stopped in Eumundi Smokehouse (several Sydney food bloggers seem to be fans). A man was browsing the sausage selection when the woman behind the counter asked, “Were you here last week?” He said yes, and she said, “Yeah, you bought two of the hot Spanish pork sausage last week and left them on the counter. What do you want today? I owe you two sausages.” I thought that was great.

The houses along Marrickville Road were single-level Federation style with small front yards, compared to the Victorian row houses on the narrow streets of Darlington, Chippendale, Redfern and other areas near campus and around Sydney. The area reminded me of West LA where I lived with my parents in a tiny house when we first moved to California. Both have a lot of immigrants and working class people. The businesses meet needs without any additional flash.

I bought a scarf and sweater for $9 total at a second-hand shop, which if I was in the cooler Surry Hills neighborhood would be called vintage and double or triple the price. Same distinction between West LA and Melrose in Los Angeles.

I’m not going to romanticize Dulwich Hill like the New York Times, but the neighborhood had a good feel to it. Lots of life. Real life, at that. It's always refreshing to get out of the Uni bubble...to conveniently relate back to the main photo.

Uh oh, I had cupcakes and a camera

Two weeks back, I was on a bus back from Bondi Beach when I noticed a cute little sign with a chic pastel design. The Cupcake Bakery.

Stop the bus!

I restrained myself from doing anything more drastic than thrusting my hand into my beach bag to retrieve my handy dandy notebook and scrawling basic coordinates for future reference: The Cupcake Bakery, Oxford St. near busstop before Centennial Park.

I would be back.

Fast forward to this latest Saturday when two friends and I made a leisurely trek to the classy neighborhood of Paddington for the weekend bazaar. We enjoyed the sunny breezy day walking past high-end boutiques and the people who shop at them. The Paddington Market is stocked with fine jewelry, garments and crafts, well above our Uni price range, but wonderful to admire.


By then it was cupcake time, though I wasn’t convinced I’d even order one. I’m picky about cupcakes because, though beautiful, they’re often too sweet for my taste. I mostly wanted to look.


We began to walk, hoping it wasn’t much further since we’d already gone about four miles that day. Just then I noticed a little girl in a stroller burying her face in frosting. She has a cupcake! I said, pointing directly at her. I glanced up and found the sign just a few stores ahead.

Once we entered, it became pretty clear I’d have to get a cupcake for myself. There was a display case full of appetizing options, but I found the one for me. A single chocolate chili cupcake with chocolate buttercream frosting waited on a covered tray atop the counter. I had just sampled a bit of chili-cinnamon dark chocolate from a chocolatier at the market so my tastebuds couldn’t be more on board.

We sat in the tea garden and took a few minutes for a photo shoot before diving in.



I wasn’t disappointed. The cake was moist and chocolaty with heat from the chili surfacing after each bite. The frosting was nice, not too sweet. I’d like something dark and richer, but it did the job.



I see another Oxford Street/Paddington Market/Cupcake Bakery day in my future...