Monthly Archives: June 2012

Roxy Kebab Cafe

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Roxy Kebab Cafe, 801C Ballarat Rd, Deer Park. Phone: 8390 1007

Roxy Kebabs – doesn’t sound too flash, does it?

But as with so much else about western suburbs eating, looks are deceptive.

This Turkish establishment was noted down for close-to-immediate investigations after being spied while perusing the Deer Park shopping strip as part of Consider The Sauce’s visit to the new Chef Lagenda.

Seeing a bunch of fellows slurping up lamb shank soup has that sort of effect upon us.

School is out early for the start of the holiday break, so up the road we head, having a strong hunch the place will rise above its daggy name and humble exterior.

That it does.

Roxy Kebab Cafe is a small operation but all the expected goodies seem present and they’re doing wildfire trade on this Friday lunchtime.

Looks are deceptive, too, with the lamb shank soup, one of three – there’s also lentil and tripe varieties available.

The small serve ($6), with fresh Turkish bread, would do nicely as a light meal.

The opaque surface hides heaps of marvellously tender globs of shank meat and the broth flavour is strong.

Our soup is also rather fatty, so a hefty squeeze of the lemon segment provided is definitely required.

To make up the rest of our $20 lunch we go with the small meal of the day ($13), with both lamb and chicken from the spit, chilli and hummus dips and salad.

There’s no rice but it’s a goodly sized serve nevertheless.

In order of impressiveness …

The salad is beaut – a crispy, fresh concoction of lettuce, green, onions, cabbage, carrot, parsley and – quite probably – more.

It may seem odd to rate salady bits as prime in a visit to a kebab joint, but for us these sorts of places are as much about the trimmings and condiments as they are about the carnivorous aspects.

The chilli dip is tangy and crunchy and fab – and it’s of only mild disposition, meaning we can (just about) slather it on the bread like a normal dip.

The lamb is tasty and tender. The chicken is a bit bland for me, but then I generally find it’s always so.

The hummus is fresh, creamy and smooth but seems almost shockingly devoid of flavour.

Still, all up this has been a most satisfactory kebab shop lunch.

Stepping outside, we step right next door for a fun visit to Hollywood Costumes.

Even though it’s clear we’re not in there as paying customers, the staff could not be more friendly and welcoming.

Bennie checks out the long rank of Superhero Costumes with an expert eye, though we also note with approval the presence of Ghostbusters and Spongebob garb.

We make a diversion on the way back to the car for a stupendously generous $2.90 cup of berry gelati and a cafe latte and hot chocolate at Pane e Latte, just behind the shopping strip, thus rounding out a most excellent Deer Park adventure.

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Vy Vy

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Vy Vy, 318 Racecourse Rd, Flemington. Phone: 9372 1426

THIS RESTAURANT IS NOW CLOSED.

The exterior signage says: “Vietnamese, Chinese & Malaysian Cuisine.”

But the internal furniture and fittings give the game – if that’s what it is – away.

This is a Flemington favourite with a Chinese lineage that attempts dishes from other Asian traditions.

And mostly, we’ve found over the years, it does an excellent job – so much so that for us and many regulars, it is preferable for Malaysian food to its far more lauded neighbours around the corner in Pin Oak Crescent or just up the road, or even right next door.

Oddly, for this mid-week dinner, that proves not to be the case – what we get are good plates and bowls that are nonetheless full of food that is only loosely Malaysian as filtered through a Chinese kitchen.

But tonight we care not a whit for authenticity.

It’s cold, we’re hungry, football practice has been long of duration.

Even more auspiciously, just as we’re about to order, a supreme example of humanity enters the restaurant to hand me the $20 note I’d left dangling out of the ATM across the road.

We salute you, Sir!

Our shared lobak ($5) has none of the usual vegetable texture from the likes of carrot.

This is just about all pork of a sublimely chewy kind and, as always, we love the crunchy, crispy tofu outer.

This is a very meaty entree!

Bennie is absolutely adamant – in the face of advice based on infinite wisdom from his dad – that he wants to order the satay fried beef noodles.

Thankfully, our bubbly waitress, Tiffany, talks him out of such a course on the basis of high levels of spiciness.

Instead, he gets hokkien fried noodles ($11.50), which goes down a treat – its array protein keeps the lad happy, while the profusion of greenery mollifies his father.

He rates it a high 8.5 out of 10, but it’s very much a toned-down version of the Malaysian hokkien mee – less dark, less lusty, just less.

Much the same could be said of my beef curry with noodles ($10).

The menu describes the curry as “rendang”, and such has been the case on previous visits.

But not this time – there’s no coconut to speak of and the gravy is soup, and a pretty runny one at that.

The meat is good, but a little on the fatty/gristly side. And I wish I’d gotten hokkien noodles instead of the rather dreary egg noodles I get.

But – surprisingly – the dish as a whole kicks goals.

I love the high chilli levels and plentiful amount of bok choy.

Certainly a curry bowl in which the sum is greater than the parts.

We’ve been here too often to be even slightly deterred by an oddly “un”-Malaysian experience.

As she shows us before and after photographs of her splendid work as a make-up artist, Tiffany tells us that the family business was one of the very first Racecourse Rd eateries.

They’ve been in the current premises for more than 10 years and before that inhabited the building a couple of doors down that still houses Chop Chop and a few others.

Besides, sometimes there’s an awful lot to be said for formica, tiles, smiles and equine artwork.

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Alchemy with tinned tomatoes

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Our basic tomato sauce

We can tell you exactly how much of this stuff we have eaten over the years.

It is precisely the mid-point between lots and lots on the one hand and, on the other, heaps and heaps.

Seriously, we really have tucked away plenty, though that has been less so in recent months as our blender broke and has yet to be replaced.

However, a few weeks back – when we were having a dinner that included a rare, for us, commercial bolognese sauce – I opined that it was actually pretty good.

“Not as good as yours,” Bennie said.

“What, you mean my tomato sauce?” asked I.

“Yeah,” said Bennie.

Dead chuffed I was, but it also was a signal that it was time to fire up, blender or not.

Truth is, just chopping or otherwise smashing the tomatoes is fine.

We prefer our tomato sauce to be a sort of blank canvas, so we keep seasoning to a minimum.

So no garlic, no basil or other herbs, no meat.

We add all those and more – bacon, chorizo, polish sausage, Italian sausage meat, tuna, depending – when we unfreeze and use the individual portions.

As well as with pasta, this goes good with roast chook, fish, snags & mash and so on.

Makes the house smell sweet, too!

The vegetable quantities are negotiable, though if you use too many you’ll get a vegie stew rather than a sauce.

INGREDIENTS

Celery

Onion

Carrot

6-8 cans whole or chopped good-quality tomatoes

Olive oil

Bay leaf

Salt (about a teaspoon)

Pepper

Sugar

METHOD

1. Without being too fastidious about it, chop the carrot, onion and celery as finely as you can.

2. Cook vegetables over medium-high heat with plenty of olive oil.

3. As the vegetables cook, whizz or otherwise smash the tomatoes.

4. When the vegetables are well cooked and wilted, add tomatoes, keeping the heat the same.

5. As the sauce comes to the boil, add salt, sugar, bay leaf and pepper.

6. Cook for several hours at the lowest possible simmer – at least until the oil rises to the top.

7. Eat, freeze, enjoy.

It’s really cool how the tinned tomatoes and vegetables you have at the start become something entirely different after a couple of hours.

Chef Lagenda

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Chef Lagenda, Shop 9/10, 835A Ballarat Rd, Deer Park. Phone: 8358 5389

Why on earth order a vegetarian laksa?

Well, I can think of a couple of really good reasons, actually.

For one thing, to get more than just the single piece of eggplant that customarily accompanies laksa soup/noodles of the chicken or seafood varieties.

For another, sometimes – and just like most carnivores of various kinds I know – I just feel like vegetables.

My Chef Lagenda vegetarian laksa ($8.90) scores highly in both regards.

My TWO pieces of eggplant are magnificent – larger than is usually the case, slippery, tender, tasty and with a luscious smokiness.

The laksa broth is very creamy and of only mild spiciness, but has fine depth of house-made flavour.

There’s vegetable galore – bok choy, broccoli, bean sprouts, along with plenty of chewy leather-skinned cubes of tofu sopping with gravy juices.

This Chef Lagenda is, of course, a sister restaurant for the establishment of the same name in Flemington, the one that often seems as famous for its symbiotic and/or competitive relationship with its neighbour, Laksa King, as it is for its food.

The Deer Park joint’s menu is mostly the same as the one in Flemo, but there seems to be a whole lot more room here – perhaps because it’s a single room, as opposed to the Crooked House dynamics in Flemington.

When I visit for lunch it’s only the second day of operation.

The manager, Francis, tells me that while this lunchtime is slow, on opening night they were 70 per cent full without any advertising at all.

Meanwhile, whatever tricks I’d played on my mind – if not my digestive system – by ordering a non-meat dish are soon brought undone. 

For by this time, unsurprisingly, Francis and her enthusiastic staff have twigged that I am writer, reviewer, blogger or some other sort of busybody.

So I am presented with a complementary sampler plate of the house-made roast meats.

Now, I may be able to summon a sufficiently straight to face to claim that had I been asked if I wanted this freebie, I would’ve replied in the negative.

But when the goodies are already right in front of me?

No way, Jose!

And I’m ever so glad.

Roast duck, roast pork, crackling pork – all really good, smoky, salty, tender. Better, in fact, than most places that specialise in such meaty goodies.

I gobble it all up yet am unable to finish my huge serve of laksa.

And FWIW, I doubt very much that anything I am served is in any way different from what is served to any other customer.

I see no reason that Chef Lagenda shouldn’t be riotously successful.

For starters, as far as I’m aware it’s the only Malaysian restaurant for 10km in any direction – maybe even 20km.

For another, and based on what I have for lunch, the place comes with the already well-established Chef Lagenda reputation for consistency and quality.

Locals are no doubt wildly happy about this opening.

As for the rest of us, it’s worth the trip.

For the time being, and very much so when compared to Flemington, the car parking is a breeze.

Before hunkering down for lunch, I’d strolled the entire Deer Park strip and was gratified by the potential riches I had noted – including a couple of classy kebab joints, one with a killer-looking lamb shank soup and chilli dip; an interesting and cheap Viet/Chinese  off the main strip; and a fine-looking deli. 

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Ras Dashen

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Ras Dashen, 121 Nicholson St, Footscray. Phone: 9687 3293

For a day off – the first of two in a row – it’s been a helluva day so far.

My nerves are rattled.

It’s taken me three goes – and three separate documents – to fill in the Working With Children Check correctly and with no messy scrawl-outs.

I’ve still got a stat dec to acquire.

As well, the world – or at least the newspaper part of it that’s such a big part of my life but may be so for not much longer – seems to be entering its End Days.

That’s common knowledge, it’s true, but it seems to be gathering momentum.

I need a blanky, some comfort food, some lunch – and the exquisite pleasure of writing about it afterwards.

Ras Dashen provides me with splendid succour.

121 Nicholson St last made an appearance in the guise of the nice but short-lived Baraka Restaurant.

Somalian food has given way to Ethiopian, with Ras Dashen – I’m told it means “mountain” – having been open about seven months.

It seems like less time than that I’ve been aware of the change, but time is flying.

There’s new furnishings and I feel right at home in the bright, cheerful ethnic cafe atmosphere.

The smiling, gentle and hospitable welcome I receive for Monday lunch is as important as the food.

The menu has many of the usual suspects – tibs, foul, “khey wot”, kitfo – but I know what I want.

I want soup.

Is there soup?

“Yes.”

“What kind is it?”

“Beef rib.”

“That’s what I want.”

I am offered a choice of bread or injera.

In the interests of maximum comfort factor, I choose the latter.

My soup ($10) arrives with one each of regular and wholemeal injera, along with a little bowl of chilli paste.

I’m often surprised that in all the coverage Melbourne’s African eateries receive there is so little mention of the soups that are available – based on our experiences, they’re certainly among the high points.

And this is an excellent one.

If you were to judge it on the vegetables – carrot, onion, celery and more – you’d be excused for thinking it not much different from a Western-style meat/vegetable broth.

But the result here is unmistakably African.

It’s there in the peppery tanginess and the random slices of fresh green chilli.

It’s there in the heady, intense and flavoursome broth that soaks up the injera so well.

My soup bowl has four bits of beef rib, with some meat sticking to them and more juicy, tender morsels doing magical stuff independently.

There’s just the right amount of meat to provide hearty fare without seeming like too much of a Monday midday carnivore.

This all makes the world seem like a much less threatening place as I go about my business.

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Wholefoods Cafe

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Wholefoods Cafe, 2 Baylie Place, Geelong. Phone: 5221 5421

Spending some time in Wholefoods Cafe in Geelong is, for me, like being in an echo chamber.

Long before I plonked myself down in Melbourne, I had immersed myself in a sort-of hippie scene that started in Dunedin during my school days, was nurtured in London even as many of us were simultaneously embracing punk rock and its more caustic love children, and became firmly entrenched in Wellington.

Truth is, almost all my mates were and are too young to claim true hippie status, but we ran with it anyway.

Yoga was big – or, in my case, tai chi and a deep involvement in Tibetan Buddhism that has continued to have profound influence on my approach to life long after I became disenchanted with the baggage that went with it.

Patchouli oil was hot and the pretty much the whole gang – of both genders – sported hairy armpits and legs.

The parties were wild.

It was during this time that I started my long love affair with Indian vegetarian cooking.

It is no doubt extremely immodest of me to say so, but my recollections are that my efforts in that regard were far better than what was generally being eaten.

The food was awful!

Brown rice casserole, anyone?

We cooked with woks, but in our utter and complete ignorance, would chop up the onion, throw it in the wok, then chop up the next vegetable, throw that in … and so on.

The results were, as you can imagine, nothing like the flash-fired wok food we all eat today.

More like mucky, mushy stews … edible is about the best that could be said.

But mostly the memories are fond, so I have no hesitation about wallowing in the nostalgic vibe Wholefoods Cafe summons up in me.

It starts with the mandala signage outside and continues inside with the lovely burnished and creaky wooden floors and the wholefoods takeaway section out back.

The noticeboards have signs for share accommodation, budgies and zumba.

But – oh yes! –  there’s all sorts of people flogging the likes of reiki, shamanic hoop drumming, meditation of various kinds, compassion exercises and worthy causes and belief systems too numerous to list.

(Time out here as Kenny cranks up a Grateful Dead CD …)

The deja vu continues with the menu:

Thus it is that in a happy and reflective mood – and, for once, with time to spare in a Geelong working day lunch break – that I look forward to my meal.

Moreoever, having scoped the place out some time ago, I am intent on sampling their “dahl”.

Regular visitors will know that I am never happy about paying upwards of $10 or more for a bowl of lentils when we do such a fine job of cooking them and their pulse cousins various ways at home.

But today I’m relaxed about that, too.

I am expecting a bowl of hippie-style dal (mildly seasoned, unoily) – as opposed to Indian-style-dal (highly seasoned, oily).

Here, customers order at the counter.

The wait seems long, but maybe that’s because I’m standing and the staff seem very busy.

Given my number and taking a seat at one of the communal tables, another longish wait ensues, but I’m happy reading the various newspapers on hand.

What I get for my lunch is a $9 bowl of … hippie-style dal with trimmings.

It’s lovely – and just what I expected and desired.

The dal is smooth and goes down easy.

The yogurt is creamy and even the smear of what I think is commercial chutney works a treat.

The pappadam is crunchy and grease-free.

It’s been more years than I can recall since I had brown rice, but here its nuttiness is the perfect foil for the rest of my meal.

Wholefoods – cafe, shop and catering – has been around for what I am told is “decades”.

These days it’s an arm of Diversitat, so is deeply embedded in its community, offering training and cooking courses and the like.

If I lived locally, it’d be a regular part of my routine … for all sorts of different reasons.

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Pasta aglio, olio e peperoncino

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Of the many varied ways we use pasta in our home, this is perhaps our favourite.

It’s a spicy, salty, oily flavour explosion.

It’s also quite tricky – the timing is everything.

As with wok cooking, everything – garlic, anchovies, parsley – needs to be ready and chopped well before the pasta is cooked.

And don’t even think about making the “sauce” – if that’s what it is – until the pasta is about 95 per cent done.

I was surprised to find, on checking our various Itralian cookbooks, that none them included the anchovies.

Oh well – we do!

And all those recipes use less parsley than us.

What can I say? We love the green stuff!

I can’t imaging using short pasta with this – though we do when making the closely related version using broccoli.

Because this pasta concoction is not one that holds its heat well at all, we use the pasta water to pre-heat the bowls.

Everyone will have their own comfort levels when it comes to the chilli, garlic and anchovies.

Almost as good as the taste is the way cooking this pongs up the house!

INGREDIENTS

Extra virgin olive oil

Garlic

Anchovies

Chilli flakes

Parsley

Long pasta

METHOD

1. Get the water going in a really big pot.

2. Finely chop garlic and anchovies; leave on chopping board alongside your required level of chilli flakes.

3. On a separate board, chop the parsley.

4. When the pasta is about half way done, gently warm a generous amount of the oil in a pan on a very low heat.

5. When pasta is all but done, turn pan heat up to a low medium.

6. Throw in the garlic, chilli flakes and anchovies.

7. Stir frequently to break up the anchovies. The garlic should get only a light tan so some care and attention is required.

8. Drain pasta, using the water to pre-heat bowls.

9. Turn pan heat to very low and toss drained pasta into the pan, swirling it around so all the good stuff is sticking to it.

10. Throw in the parsley and swirl similarly.

11. Serve in pre-heated bowls and top with another dollop of extra virgin olive oil if desired or needed.

12. Eat.

13. Lick lips and smile.

Dappa Snappa Fish Cafe

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Dappa Snappa Fish Cafe, 203 Nelson Place, Williamstown. Phone: 9943 4109

There are only hazy memories hereabouts of the days when fish and chips resided at the cheaper end of the cheap eats spectrum.

These days a decent F&C feed will always cost you more than a bowl of pho just about anywhere you go.

This situation is exacerbated in my own case because – creature of some habits that I am – ordering F&C without coleslaw is something of which I am simply incapable.

In this case, a minimum serve of coleslaw costing $5.50 nudges the cost of my lunch – including  a can of soft drink – above $16.

I know, I know – $5.50 for coleslaw? Sounds a bit steep, doesn’t it?

But I have a hunch about this salad.

It looks good.

It tastes better.

A whole lot better.

Fact is, this is the best F&C shop coleslaw I’ve ever had the pleasure of eating.

It’s stupendous in its perfection.

Perfectly dressed, crunchy but not too crunchy – I’m almost giggling with the sheer enjoyment of it as I slurp up every last shred of cabbage.

The chips are fine in an old-school way and hot, but receive a healthy shake from the salt dispenser.

The fish – blue grenadier – is better again. Of a good size and with a nicely crunchy batter, the fish flesh is juicy and very flavoursome.

The tartare sauce is almost as good as the coleslaw – delicious, fresh and creamy.

This is a winning fish luncheon.

Dappa Snappa boss man Mehmet has been open only a couple of weeks when I visit.

He’s enjoyed a ripper Queen’s Birthday Monday, but is mostly hoping to survive the winter by looking forward to bumper spring and summer crowds.

I reckon he’ll do fine.

There’s F&C alternatives at either end of the Nelson Place food strip, but smack bang in the middle – where he is – there’s much food that is awful, over-priced or both.

Mehmet’a joint is done out in typically breezy fish cafe style, with exposed bricks on one side and a cute seaside scene on the other, and plenty of seating inside and out.

While our immediate neighbourhood continues to lack a sit-down F&C establishment, Dappa Snappa is likely to receive multiple visits from us.

I’ll be interested to hear of Bennie’s verdict on the hamburgers.

Bonus points, too, for the provision of real crockery and metal cutlery!

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Meeting Mr Bongiovanni

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Anthony’s grandfather and grandmother flank his then-toddler father in their North Melbourne butcher shop.

There have been many surprises attending the opening of long-awaited food emporium A.Bongiovanni & Son in Seddon – its size, scope, range and pricing just for starters.

What has not been so surprising are the varying levels of negativity that have arisen.

These seem to range from fears for smaller local businesses posed what is seen by some as a predatory carnivore to outright hostility towards what is perceived as an attack on community wellbeing by a moneybags outsider.

Doubtless that will continue to be the case and healthy debate will continue for a long time to come.

But spending time with the man behind the shop and its arrival, Anthony Bongiovanni, it’s impossible to deny the passion he has for Seddon.

He’s a businessman for sure – and a self-confessed ambitious one at that.

But he’s one who I am inclined to take at face value when he makes a determined assertion that he wants to see Seddon bloom.

As he points out, he has been a prominent community member for almost a decade and president of the Seddon Traders Association for the past four.

“I want a better Seddon,” he says. “I have a passion for Seddon. I’m not out to take people’s business away.

“I made a deliberate decision not to stock non-food household good so we wouldn’t be directly competing with the supermarket around the corner.

“With this sort of place, I couldn’t not stock bread – but considering the size of the place, we haven’t gone overboard. We certainly don’t want to hurt Sourdough Kitchen.

“We want to provide more options. I’ve never seen so many people on the street.”

Anthony points out the wooden pannelling above the fruit and vegetable section. It took him and his father-in-law three weeks to install using wood from old fruit boxes of the type just visible bottom right.

Anthony himself is another surprise.

Where I’d had a mental picture of a suave Italian patriarch, I instead meet an enthusiastic young man in his early ’30s.

But he’s packed a lot of living and work experience into those three decades.

He has a long background in the liquor and building industries.

On his mother’s side of the family, there’s a history of fruiterers; on his father’s side is a line of butchers.

His grandfather’s butcher shop in North Melbourne was named C.Bongiovanni & Sons.

Anthony has continued that tradition by including “& Son” in the official name of his new enterprise after his own two-year-old son, Samuel.

At one stage, he ran a joint called Bongiovanni’s Food & Wine Bar in North Fitzroy, but it was too small to make it profitable.

Anthony is happy to see its failure as an outright positive.

“I lost just about everything, but it was the best thing that could have happened,” he says.

Anthony leased the building that these days houses Thirsty Camel – it was Betts Electrical then – in the mid-’90s, eventually buying both that building and the one next door, which housed a furniture store.

He resisted interest from the furniture folk in renewing and extending their lease, and entertained leasing proposals that involved the likes of a gym or yoga centre.

But they didn’t work for him.

“I wanted something that would boost Seddon,” he says.

I suspect the genesis of A.Bongiovanni & Son was long dormant but profoundly present in Anthony’s soul.

But things only really started moving when he was perusing Ebay one night and saw a bunch of good-quality shop fittings for sale. He rang the woman involved the next day, eventually doing a great deal the got him not just shop fittings but a forklift as well.

Then followed more purchases of fittings from Ebay and all of a sudden the plan was up and running.

There were major hiccups along the way, mostly notably with the securing of a strong, reliable electricity source.

Turns out the existing power infrastructure was woefully inadequate to service such a shop, and wasn’t all that flash at doing so for other existing businesses either.

The eventual cost was well above $200,000, with Anthony contributing about a third.

Anthony’s grandfather on the left.

Then followed the long and challenging job of securing products and distributors for them.

“I travelled interstate, I went to food fairs and farms,” Anthony says.

The shop carries more than 20,000 products and deals with more than a 1000 suppliers.

The likes of Raw Materials handle a range of products and producers, but many of the items that line the shelves of A.Bongiovanni & Son come from single-product makers so the work simply has to be done.

While the business does carry some cheaper items – incredibly cheap in some cases – Anthony is unapologetic about mostly following a top-notch philosophy that mirrors his own approach to food.

“Whether it be chips or sausages, I’m happy to pay a dollar more or eat a little less to get that high quality,” he says.

As we wrap up our conversation, we spend some time marvelling over photographs Anthony has of yesteryear scenes of Footscray such as the Western Oval, long-gone tram routes and shops.

Then he lends me a copy of Per L’Australia – The Story Of Italian Migration by Julia Church, a mind-blowing photo history upon which I plan to feast.

He tells me there’s further big plans afoot for A.Bongiovanni & Son, but only smiles when I press him for details.

Cooking classes?

Demonstrations?

Live music?

“There’s more,” he says with a smile.

And finally, he dismisses the moneybags suggestions.

“Everything here … I started from scratch.”

Heading back to my car, I stop by Sourdough Kitchen to inquire about how they feel about the new business just up the road, but they’re too busy to talk.

See earlier post here.

Bennie eats smoothies, pancakes and corn (:

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WORDS, PHOTOS, MUSIC, TAP-DANCING AND HUMOUR BY BENNIE WEIR!

Hola, Bennie here.

This week at my school our class had a low GI week. The idea was to get all of us kiddos into groups and think of some low GI recipes to eat.

Yummy!

First we think of the recipes, which we did on Tuesday.

At first, my group’s (led by my teacher Mrs Clarke) idea was to make garlic and parmesan popcorn, buckwheat pancakes with berry sauce-like stuff and a banana and mango smoothie, and just to make it harder we were only allowed to use $30 everything we wanted.

In the end, we replaced the popcorn with corn on the cob – apart from that everything stayed the same.

On Thursday, we had to walk to Woolworths to do our shopping. I took my dad’s camera with me.

When we got there, we went into our groups and started shopping.

My group had to get skim milk, vegetable oil, vanilla yoghurt, maple syrup, plain flour, bananas, frozen berries, frozen mango, buttermilk, corn, unsalted butter, honey and frozen maggots – just kidding!

When we went to go get the bananas, they were so green. So my group had to go get some bananas from the greengrocer.  Then the whole class got together again and we all went back to school.

When we got back, everyone was really excited about cooking.

One group went to the hall, another group went to the staff room and my group stayed in the classroom. First we started off with making the mango and banana smoothie.

1. We peeled some bananas and put them in the blender with the skim milk and the vanilla yoghurt, put the frozen mango in and blended it.

2. Um … Kind of fitted it all in to step 1.

3. Let’s continue.

Then we did the corn on the cob.

We put the corn in boiling water for 12 minutes. While we were waiting, we started the buckwheat pancakes. We made the batter. The recipe would take to long to write so I made a simpler version.

1. Search it on the internet.

Then the corn was done. YAY!

We got the biggest piece of corn we could get smothered it with butter and ate it.

Then we were making another batch of pancakes.

My friend Gabriel cut up the banana.

While we were eating the corn, Mrs Clarke put the berries in a small pot put with a couple of teaspoons of sugar and water on top, then she went off and put them in the microwave.

She came with this really nice berry sauce like stuff.

We finished making the pancakes, put the berry sauce on, the yoghurt on, ate it all.

There was no more pancakes so we all pigged out on the berry sauce.

While we were, the bell rang for snack break and we all went outside with the berry sauce still on our plates with us trying to eat it with forks.

Confucius say man who eat soup with fork starve.

We went outside and ate it while being watched by jealous the 3/4 class.

Then I had an idea put some berry sauce on my finger and pretend I was bleeding, yelling at everyone: “I CUT MYSELF AHHH! THE PAIN!”

They actually believed me and all ran up to me, then I told them it was a joke.

LA FIN!

A.Bongiovanni & Son

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See profile of Anthony Bongiovanni here.

A.Bongiovanni & Son, 176-178 Victoria St, Seddon. Phone: 9689 8669

Our first visit to the flash new Seddon food emporium is in the early evening of opening day.

We only need a few things and are not intent on doing a serious shop, but are intrigued to have a good look around.

First impressions:

Having long been familiar with the furniture store that preceded it, we find it a little smaller than we expect.

But factoring in storage and refrigeration requirements, it all adds up.

The word we’d heard that this was going to be like a smaller version of La Manna at Essendon Airport has only partly eventuated.

On the one hand, this business is not going to put the supermarket around the corner out of business for the simple reason that – unlike La Manna – there is no loo paper or laundry powder or paper towels or … you get the picture.

Nope, here it’s strictly food and drink all the way.

On the other hand, like La Manna everything except the fruit and vegetables is packaged and packed and packaged again.

There’s a lot of plastic going on here.

There’s also a strong Italian factor, but they cover a lot of other bases, too.

At first blush, and with some notable exceptions mentioned below, this seems a pricey place.

Pricey, but top line just about all the way.

Whether it be ice cream, chocolate, pasta, antipasti, juices, ready-made curries or biscotti and much, much more, overwhelmingly most of the stock effortlessly falls into the “deluxe” category.

Finally, there is an undeniable “wow” factor.

Given the nature of the prices and the lines carried, it seems unlikely A.Bongiovanni & Son will be a staple of ordinary household shopping for us or just about anyone else.

But I reckon there’s little doubt it’ll become a regular stop when we want just the right kind of quality ingredients or just the right kind of treat we so often deserve.

Now that’s some really cheap pasta and tinned toms – although they have deluxe versions of both, especially the pasta.

The oil line-up looks pretty solid, although we didn’t stop long enough to get into specifics.

They have their own line of frozen stuffed pasta at a really good $3.49 – ravioli, tortellini and gnocchi.

It being the kind of night on which dad has nothing planned for dinner and we’re tired and uninspired, we grab a bag of the ravioli and a tub of Element bolognese sauce.

The beef ravioli we have a little later on are the best store-bought filled pasta I’ve ever had – no kidding!

Really, really tender with a nice nutmeg-infused flavour.

We’ll be having them again for sure, and trying the other two formats as well.

When it comes to the nuts and lollies, I think it’ll be a case of “prefer others” for us.

We’re really keen on hearing what other folks think of this long-awaited establishment!

Ms Baklover has got a more detailed post up at Footscray Food Blog.

She’s right to be in a celebratory mood – in our rush on a long and tiring week day, we didn’t even stop to marvel that such a place has opened up right in our neighbourhood!

Someone?

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A few years back, I regaled – hopefully not too longwindedly – a new friend with a rundown of my exploits through the years.

Hitchhiking all over the US on first leaving NZ; many subsequent visits to New Orleans and South Louisiana to dig on the music and food; eventually interviewing many musicians and cooks; toting old stoves from Copenhagen to London, renovating them and setting up shop in Camden Market to flog them; working on newspapers all over New Zealand and, more latterly, Melbourne; a half-dozen heady years as Entertainment Editor and Jazz Writer with the Sunday Herald Sun; 20 years doing a weekly radio show on PBS-FM.

My friend said: “You’ve led an interesting life!”

He was right – I have.

But much to my surprise, and dadhood aside, doing Consider The Sauce has topped everything before it.

The past two years have been a fulfilling and thrilling adventure.

The downsides have been zero; the upsides more plentiful than can be enumerated here – although many of them have been referred to in reviews and stories along the way.

But I have always seen Consider The Sauce as also playing a role in my more professional career.

Not in the “monetised” sense – more along the lines of “a blog is the new resume”.

In that, it has done its job.

The word is out, friends and contacts have been made, CTS has become integral to both who I am and what I do.

There’s has even been some gratefully accepted direct income – thanks mostly to the fine folks at GRAM magazine.

But it’s not enough to pay the bills.

***

The newspaper industry that has been a part of my life for so long is being overwhelmed by hurricanes of change that are sweeping over the media industry in general and, indeed, the world at large.

While I’ve always written at the various newspapers for which I have worked, my principle role has been as what’s called these days a production journalist or, often still, a sub-editor.

Our ranks are being ruthlessly thinned.

Of necessity, those who specialise in the design and construction of pages are being retained.

I have much experience under my belt in that regard, but more by happenstance than anything else have found myself these days pursuing – and greatly enjoying – what I think of as “word wrangling”.

Untangling scrambled syntax so that writers say what they mean and mean what they say; making sure someone’s name is not spelt two or three different ways in a single story; getting the tenses right; punctuation, too; dreaming up ripper headlines and captions; making sure there’s no loose ends; making reporters, writers, columnists, reviewers – and the publications (and, these days, websites) in which their words are appearing – look great and sparkle.

The various media proprietors continue to say they value these attributes in the pursuit of “quality journalism”.

But actions speak louder than words.

Having found what I thought was a home of sorts at the Geelong Advertiser, where the journalism has been of a high standard and the product one of integrity, things have become shaky with blinding speed.

The looming pear-shaped scenario is not without hope.

But it behooves me to explore all other options.

***

I believe Consider The Sauce shows what I know to be true about myself – I am hard-working, dedicated, honest, passionate, reliable, imaginative, professional and trustworthy.

And not without talent.

Talent just waiting to be utilised in a righteous cause.

My CV can be examined here.

The email address – all one word – is kenny cts blog at g mail dot com

Third Wave Cafe

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Third Wave Cafe, 189 Rouse St, Port Melbourne. Phone: 9676 2399

Earlier this year I had a nice lunch at Third Wave Cafe, loved the meat-filled blintzes, wrote it up for Consider the Sauce – and even saw that piece get a run in GRAM Magazine.

In the normal course of events, that may’ve been the end of it – Third Wave being close-by but nevertheless a little out of our normal way, over in Port Melbourne – until next time, someday, maybe, never.

Except for one thing – the Russian salad with chicken and bread mentioned in that story stuck in my mind.

So when gleefully debating the subject of location for catch-up with Catty from Fresh Bread, this seems like a natural spot midway between her South Melbourne base and ours in Yarraville.

I’m awful keen to try that Russian salad and I reckon Bennie’ll love those blintzes, especially after I describe them to him as being like “bolognese wrapped in pancakes”.

Catty, too, is sufficiently intrigued and up for it.

Unfortunately, in the interim months the prices have risen by a not insignificant amount.

They’re not now exorbitant at all, but we feel bound to have our opinions of our lunch choices coloured by them.

Bennie’s meat blintzes – the ones I had for $16.50 but which now cost $17.90 – struggle to impress him, though I suspect some of his apathy is induced by the eye-rolling tedium of having to listen to his two adult companions bang on about stupid blogger stuff.

He eats it all anyway, sour cream, everything.

Catty likes her mushroom blintzes well enough – though they’re heavy on the cream – but seems a little underwhelmed.

My Russian salad is rather good – quite a good-size serving and much less heavy on the dressing than I expected, to the extent it is quite a crumbly mixture.

The chicken is tasty mixed in among the regulation peas, carrot, pickled cucumber, eggs and potato.

But the “artisan bread” turns out to be two very meager semi-slices.

This perhaps would’ve been all good and well at the old price of $13 – but at the tag of $14.90 it’s seeming a bit of a stretch.

Look, it’s not often we talk about prices at any length here at Consider The Sauce.

We generally either cop them or not.

And it gives us no pleasure to be discussing them right here, as it’s obvious the Third Wave Cafe really are into their food and coffee and no doubt instituted these changes because they felt they had no choice.

But to us, they have indeed changed our perspective – a few dollars here and there has made a difference.

Out three light meals, a coffee and a hot chocolate see us paying a bill of $59.30.

I dug the hell out of talking blogger shop with Catty, though!

Third Wave Cafe on Urbanspoon

Java

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Java, 12 Ballarat St, Yarraville. Phone: 9687 7508

We’ve been long enough in the west by now to feel entitled about claiming nostalgia rights.

Well, if not nostalgia, at least the reflective gift to long-time residents of being able raise a wry smile about “the way things used to be” or to simply marvel at the changes taking place around us.

My own first visits to Yarraville involved train journeys from St Kilda or the CBD to the Sun Theatre, which in those days still screened black-and-white and noir classics from decades long gone, as the Astor does still.

Oh, how I wish the Sun continued to do likewise!

I know it’s lovely having our cinema set-up a few minutes’ walk away, but its line-up hardly varies at all from those available elsewhere.

We remember, on moving west, that Java was a simple and funky cafe that sometimes did service for coffee and babycinos but was also often erratic and frustrating.

That IS nostalgia, for Java has been a different operation – and different style of operation – for many years.

Whenever we’re in the vicinity, Java seems to be going great guns, selling all the usual breakfasts and meals of a kind that don’t seemed to be offered specifically by many of its competitors but which we suspect lack any kind of focus at all.

Could it be that Java’s “popularity” is a chimera fostered by overflow from the more loved options nearby?

On the basis of a long overdue Consider The Sauce meal, we’re inclined to think so.

Being neither of us hearty of appetite, we agree to share the beef burger ($16.50), which turns out to be an affordable light meal for us pair.

The chips are adequate in number but are not hot enough and not crunchy enough. They all disappear fast anyway.

The burger patty is nice and fat, leavened with some carrot and onion, and best thing going on our plate.

The trimmings do not inspire.

The salad, tomato and onion bits are OK, but the egg and bacon fail to provide any flavour lift or contrast at all.

On the specials board when we visit are Thai chicken curry ($16.50), beef stroganoff with jasmine rice ($14.50), beer-battered fish, chips and salad ($14.50), and roast beef, salad and chips ($200.50).

Java Mfg on Urbanspoon

Tasman Market Fresh Meats

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Tasman Market Fresh Meats, 26-30 McDonald Rd, Brooklyn. Phone: 9318 9077

The last time we hit Tasman Market Fresh Meats in Brooklyn, it was a warm/hot summer day and we pretty much froze in the chilly interior.

It was just like shopping in a freezer.

In fact, doing business here IS shopping in a freezer, such is the quantity of chilled and frozen produce on hand.

On that day, we couldn’t muster enough of a shopping list to breach the $20 EFTPOS limit, so left empty-handed.

We suspect this is the sort of place more suited to larger family units than our two-person show.

Nevertheless, today Tasman happens to be on our route home from that morning’s rugby match and we are happy to stop and shop.

As well, the snag stand outside does fine duty in providing Bennie’s post-match snag – with onions, BBQ sauce, $2.50, thank you very much.

It’s a sunny Saturday morning but still very chilly, so the temperature seems the same inside and out!

We wonder if we’ll see any meat derived from the notorious “it’s raining sheep” incident of a day or so earlier and a few kilometres up the road!

Our meat-eating tends to be a matter of moderation and spontaneity inspired by both temperament and restricted fridge and freezer space.

So unlike most Tasman customers, we’re not here for the meat – though there is a whole lot of it.

There’s even a fairly extensive range of offal, but how the prices compare overall to other outlets and markets is difficult to gauge.

The lamb shanks, for instance, don’t seem any cheaper than anywhere else.

While there is a vast amount of plastic used in packaging here, the signage and the butchers on hand make it clear the service can be more customised and flexible than may at first appear to be the case.

We know someone who loves this stuff, and we no doubt eat enough of it ourselves on our periodic visits to charcoal chicken shops, fish and chip joints and the like.

But ours is not a mindset that would see us actually toting bags of the stuff home.

The best bargains we spy – and those that go in our basket – are of the dry goods variety.

Three cans of Mediterranea canned tomatoes for $2.

The big 700g bag of Le Serenate biscotti provides low-rent crumbly cookies, but still fine for school/work lunches.

Two packs of pasta for 88 cents each; some cheap olive oil for cooking so we don’t use the good stuff for same; some hot chilli pate just for fun.

Bennie and I have struck deal about the breakfast standoff – he’ll give the bought cereals away and eat the same as dad, just so long as dad does away with the white sultanas (“white maggots”) and uses other dried fruit instead for the muesli.

So we grab almonds, dried apricots and dates to join the oats already waiting at home.

We don’t recall – from previous visits – there being fresh produce here.

Truth be told, the Tasman range is not much more than basic, but does the trick I dare say for those wanting to cover their bases without making another stop on the way home.

We pick up an armful of bananas, some sweet potatoes, a $1 bag of mandarins.

It’s a little out of the way for us, so Tasman is unlikely to become a regular haunt.

But it’s been just the ticket today for us in a $37 shop that has set us up for the rest of the week.

As we leave, Bennie opines that it still seems more like a butcher than a supermarket.

And they don’t stock coffee.