Summer Hill Hotel — Restaurant in Sydney

Describe my experience hey?

Well the website and Google promise a pub feed of good standard and a selection of craft beers.

Arrived at around 7:45pm and breasted up to the bar. Little Creatures, Matilda Bay and a mainstream Young Henrys was the "selection". Was hoping for actual craft beer rather than mass produced Pale Ales and bog-standard little creatures. $8.60 per schooner and it wasn't even a Murray's or Feral Brewing Co drop.

Not to worry, it was Friday. Onto the feed. The reviews promise a good pub feed. Problem was that every empty table was filthy dirty. The dishes had been cleared and no one had bothered to wipe down the left over bits of salad and chips from the tables. Had to get my own wipes from the order area. Asked for wipes to wipe down a table and they didn't even offer to come over and assist. Once I had somewhere to eat that didn't resemble a pig feed trough, we sat down and waited. Turns out you have to get your own menus, then get up and place your order. We then get told to set our own table, being directed to the mass bin of cutlery and bundle of serviettes. We were also given a buzzer as no one was bringing out our food, you had to collect it yourself.

I had ordered a garlic bread as a starter, Mrs ordered to steak sandwich and I ordered the Schnity for a main.

Buzzer goes off and I go to collect the bread only to be met with the entire course. Had trouble balancing three plates back over to our table.

Can't complain about the meal. It wasn't a bad feed. But for $23 for a bog-standard chicken schnity, I'd have at least expected table service.

Add to this I waited over 10min for my second schooner. Where the bar staff were I don't know. An older gentleman left the pub after waiting. He was waiting longer than me.

Very disappointing place. I have been looking for a decent place but this place wasn't it. Plenty of better places with far...

Last Saturday, my brother and I came to your hotel at about 1pm to spend some time together. We'd already realised the Aus v Pak Test match would not start till 4pm, so we were resigned to just having a few drinks, a decent pub lunch, and a laugh or two as we caught up after months apart. I waited at the bar as what seemed to be the only staff in the bar patiently paid out, entered new bets, and poured a drink for a lady with whom he seemed familiar. By the time his attention turned to me, several others were waiting at the bar. I was served efficiently and politely, and later I saw him taking a tray of drinks to patrons out the back of where we were. By now my brother and I had realised the Women's World Cup was on so we were very content, and ended up staying for the whole match, leaving about 7pm. At some stage, I took the opportunity to comment to the barman that he seemed to be doing everything: serving at the bar, delivering orders, clearing tables. He explained the bar was understaffed. This was obvious by his activity, but not from his patient and pleasant manner. Later he changed the TV channel for us so we could continue to watch the cricket from NZ. I wish to commend to you this barman, he made our stay in your hotel an extremely enjoyable experience. His name was Oliver. Please pass my...

They say the path to a man's heart is through his stomach, but at the Summer Hill Hotel, the route is a delicious detour! The kitchen wizards here must have sold their souls for such sinfully scrumptious grub. One bite and you'll be uttering profanities usually reserved for romantic endeavors.

Heck, you may not even notice the food with all the eye candy behind the bar. The bartenders belong on the cover of a racy bodice-ripper novel. I found myself ordering drinks I've never heard of just to indulge in some ridiculous banter with them. Was I flirting or just very thirsty? You be the judge...

As if being fed and watered by angels wasn't enough, Lady Luck must've gotten trapped under one of the poker machines here. I was raking in chips like a Vegas high-roller! The only risk is developing a gambling addiction - to these irresistible pokies, that is.

In summary, stumbling into Summer Hill Hotel is like falling into a heart-attack inducing trifecta of ecstasy - food coma, thirst trap, and wallet bulge. My condolences to your arter...well, everything really.

P.S. If this lascivious review has you curious about the rakish rogue who wrote it, just ask your server who ate two plates of the chef's signature 'Coronary Surprise' while winking relentlessly at the staff. I'll be the one leaving a...