Monthly Archives: November 2012

Vanakkam

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Vanakkam, 359 Barkly St, Footscray. Phone: 9687 7224

Ordering a feed for two at an Indian restaurant is a breeze, right?

Couple of snacks – samosas, pakoras, whatever – couple of curries, rice, some naan?

Well, no.

It isn’t that straightforward at all these days – especially not at a place like the relocated Vanakkam in Barkly St, with curries AND dosas AND a goodly line-up of Indo-Chinese dishes.

We muddle along and have a great time even if our choices are a little on the stodge side.

But they’re all good or better – and two are very excellent indeed.

And, naturally, we order WAY too much food – but happily, the final dish that arrives is the one most suitable for doggy-bagging and making do for Bennie’s school lunch the next day.

We’ve taken our time getting to the new Vanakkam – seems like there’s been a lot of Indian action to keep up to date with lately.

But we leave as extremely happy – and bulging full – chappies.

The service is fine and our food arrives far more quickly than such freshly made dishes might suggest.

We are not really thinking about our visits to the old Vanakkam as we nut out our order, but we sigh with memory-fuelled pleasure as our plate of onion baji ($7) arrives.

Of course we remember them – they’re so very good!

In this case, the serve is even bigger, but the onion rings are just as delicious.

The batter is not crispy, but is admirably unoily and scrumptious.

Our lamb dosa (&10) is good, too.

Crispy pancake and the usual slurp-worthy sambar, chutneys and potato filling, the latter a little more gooey than is usually the case.

The lamb is quite plentiful and seems to be mostly in the form of smallish, unspicy chunks that could’ve been carved straight from a roast leg.

Maybe they are.

It’s all well and good, but it makes us – OK, me – wonder why we ever variate from the tried-and-true spud-filled masala dosa.

Kaju uthappam ($12) is our standout dish.

The base of this “Indian pizza”, which comes with the same side dishes as our dosa, is made from rice and black lentil flours, and is a little crunchy, very delicate and utterly moreish.

The topping is of cashews nuts that have become soft in the cooking, coriander and what are described to us as “poori” spices.

So simple and so magnificent.

Our dinner adventure had been embarked upon with Bennie expressing a wish for noodles.

There are none to be had on the Vanakkam menu – the closest we can get is their take on nasi goreng ($13), which unsurprisingly has little or nothing to do with the south-east Asian dish of the same name.

Being more of a glorified fried rice, it’s still mighty fine, with a fried egg atop, and plenty of cubed, crunchy vegetables and battered chicken bits.

It has the same sort of peppery spiciness that comes with the fabulous schezwan chicken fried rice to be had at Dosa Hut up the road.

We’re stonkered before we get even close to halfway through this large serve, so the rest goes home with us.

Vanakkam is a very welcome addition to the intense and oh-so-welcome Indian activity in West Footscray, and we’ve only scratched the menu’s surface.

And BTW, the biryanis other customers have been eating look really great.

Vanakkam on Urbanspoon

Lazat: Malaysian food for Sunshine

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SEE REVIEW HERE.

Lazat, 495 Ballarat Rd, Sunshine. Phone: 9312 7880

Once upon a time, not so long ago and outside of Flemington, there was nary a trace of Malaysian food in the western suburbs.

Then arrived Wok Noodle in Seddon.

And then, more recently, Chef Lagenda hung out its shingle in Deer Park to wild applause of most who live in the vicinity.

Now those two are to be joined by another Malaysian joint, on a busy, unlovely bit of Ballarat Rd just up from the Gold Leaf eatery of Chinese persuasion.

When I drop in to get the lowdown, things are in a state of disarray, but management tells me they’ll be up and running in about a week – and even, “hopefully”, by Monday, December 2.

The building they’re taking over was most recently sporting signage that said something along the lines of “Grills Plus”, but it was closed down by the time I noticed it and so have no idea what, if anything, was cooking when it was running.

If it ever was.

The menus the Lazat folk provide me hold little by way of surprises but are reassuringly stacked with familiar faves – the usual noodles about the $11 mark, soft shell crabs two for $12.80, Hainan chicken rice at $9.80, roast meats, lobak for $5 and so on.

One word: Yummy!

Book review: Hungry Town

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Hmmmm, I wonder if this would work ….

Hungry Town – A Culinary History of New Orleans, A City Where Food Is Almost Everything – Tom Fitzmorris (Stewart, Tabori & Chang)

Given the not insignificant role New Orleans has played in my life for the past 30 years or so – visiting, writing, reading about, broadcasting and, of course, listening – I shouldn’t be surprised that occasionally a bout of Crescent City fever hits me.

Nevertheless, I’m a little surprised that my latest and ongoing pre-occupation with the city has seemingly bubbled up out of sort-of nowhere.

Perhaps it surprises because I am so very, very content with Melbourne in general and its western suburbs foodiness in particular.

As well, circumstances dictate that a return visit to Louisiana remains some unknowable distance in the future.

Yet I recently finished reading John McCusker’s fine biography of trombonist Kid Ory, which directly led to the purchasing of six Ory CDs to join the one I already possessed under his own name.

Those albums have been joined by 2012 buys of music by Chief John Burnious, Paul Barbarin, Emile Barbes, Thomas Jefferson, Kid Rena, Kid Howard, Big Eye Louis Nelson, Fess Manetta, Johnny Dodds, the Young Tuxedo Brass Band and more.

I have yet to succumb to the attraction of once more firing up in the kitchen for the purposes of cooking New Orleans dishes, though I did this week make chicken stock with a view to some time soon getting some gumbo or jambalaya happening.

But having bought and enjoyed very much Tom Fitzmorris’ Lost Restaurants of New Orleans and the recipes that made them famous, I happily broke out the credit card to buy Hungry Town.

And a good, if brief, read it turned out to be, too.

In my opinion, part of the book’s title – “A Culinary History Of New Orleans” – goes close to being an outright lie.

“A History of Tom Fitzmorris’ Involvement In The New Orleans Scene” would be more accurate. There is some detail about the overall history of eating out in New Orleans, but most of the book covers the author’s experiences – and I’m cool with that.

Fitzmorris covers his early days and how he found himself, seemingly more by accident than ambition, becoming a central pillar of the city’s food scene.

There are heaps of fascinating anecdotes and stories about great meals and the people who make them and eat them.

Fitzmorris naturally gravitates towards the more formal and expensive aspects of New Orleans’ food culture, and I’m cool with that, too, even though my own experiences at that end of the city’s food spectrum have been limited by both budget and inclination.

He sometimes seem to give only grudging acknowledgement to the more blue-collar and rough and tumble aspects of New Orleans’ eating.

The book really comes into its own with the arrival of Hurricane Katrina and city’s subsequent ongoing fight for survival.

The stories are moving, and I was quite shaken up to discover that quite a few people who had served me marvellous food perished in the storm or as the direct result of its aftermath.

The stories include great yarns about restaurant folk – some of them at the very top end of New Orleans dining – cooking and providing food for all comers during those desperate days.

While exiled in another part of country, Fitzmorris started a list of New Orleans restaurants open for business on any given day – a list he continues to update.

By his own assessment, it’s probably the most significant thing he’ll ever do.

To that extent, while the book seems a tad on the self-serving side, the author’s assertion that food would be just not a key to New Orleans’ survival but THE key is heart-warming.

Along with the music, of course.

I’m not at all sure how I’d go in post-Katrina New Orleans. There’s still parts of the city that will never be more than wasteland.

I yearn for the food, and I’m quietly determined to take Bennie there one day.

But while New Orleans has “ethnic food”, it just doesn’t have the depth or quality to match Melbourne.

But, by God, the city continues to live on in my heart.

Chicken and sausage gumbo, anyone?

For interest’s sake, I’m including a scathing review of the book on Amazon and the author’s response:

Review by “wmgood39648”: “For those who know Tom F. and his ever thinning skin, Hungry Town is not really all about the food scene in New Orleans. Its really about the author. Read the book carefully and you will find that Fitzmorris has let himself get far too close to certain New Orleans restaurantuers to be objective. This would be fine if he would just admit that he is not a critic, but rather an apologist for the industry. He allowed himself to be feed very expensive meals by one restaurant dynasty for decades and then refuses to point out their flaws. Fitting in is very important to Fitzmorris. He might be the only man in New Orleans who actually benefited from hurricane Katrina. By his own admission, he could not get a publisher for his books until the storm. The book is not well written and has no depth. Wait for this book until its in the $3.00 section.”

Rebuttal by Tom Fitzmorris: “The comment is made by a persistent crank who reads everything I write and listens to every minute of my radio show, then attacks every bit of it without exception. I have reason to believe he is the owner of a restaurant that I gave a negative review. I thank him for buying the book and for making me such a central part of his life. Tastefully yours, Tom Fitzmorris.”

Ciambotta

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This rustic Italian vegetable stew would go real swell served cold with fish, chicken or sausages at a barbecue, but we only ever have it as a light main meal when we’re a little weary of heavier, richer fare.

This is based on a recipe found in Michele Scicolone’s 1,000 Italian Recipes.

Her recipe calls for one red and one yellow capsicum.

For this brew, I went with two red, as the yellows at the place where I did the shopping were more than $12 a kilogram and looking a bit sad on it.

I used kipfler potatoes, thinking the discs would go just right with the other vegetables, but they took too long to cook, so we’ll stick to our usual desiree in the future.

This is so simple and easy to cook – it basically takes care of itself.

And the way the tomatoes and – to some extent, the eggplant – break down to form a terrifically unctuous sauce that soaks into the spuds is fabulous.

In fact, it makes even a muddling, middling cook such as myself think I’m pretty hot sh… stuff.

While it was cooking, I went looking for other recipes, and was surprised – I don’t know why – to find Scicolone has a blog.

And as she says on it: “I’m always amazed at how good it turns out.”

She lists a few other additions and variations – green beans, courgettes, more elaborate seasonings, cheese or eggs or basil at the end and so on.

But once you start talking about courgettes, I start thinking ratatouille.

No surprise then that further sleuthing revealed there’s little or no difference between the two dishes.

Goes great as leftovers gently warmed up or as sandwich stuffing.

INGREDIENTS

1 medium onion

4 plum tomatoes

2 potatoes

1 medium eggplant

2 red capsicums, or 1 red and 1 yellow

Salt, freshly ground black pepper

Olive oil

METHOD

1. Roughly chop onion and cook in olive oil on low-medium heat until soft.

2. While the onion is cooking, chop remaining vegetables into bite-size pieces.

3. Add vegetables to cooked onion, season with salt and pepper, and cook covered on low heat for about 40 minutes – or no longer than when the potatoes start falling apart a bit. Gently stir occasionally, as potato pieces can stick.

4. Eat.

Meetbowl

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Meetbowl, 95 York St, South Melbourne. Phone: 9696 4412

Meetbowl is so very much the epitome of a cheap ‘n’ cheerful ethnic cafe that it verges on caricature.

Dull decor that arrives somewhere between unlovely and shabby.

About a dozen tables inside, three outside.

Flimsy plastic chairs, though the eat-in cutlery and crockery are real enough.

A constantly revolving clientele that appears to be mostly Indonesian students and office workers.

I wonder if they’re here because of Meetbowl, or if Meetbowl is here because of them.

Next to me, there’s a mostly paleskin table of four that appears to be much more along my own lines in terms of age and style.

They look like social workers.

A drinks cabinet bereft of just about everything but bottled water and some dairy product refreshments in which I have no interest.

Fortunately, there are a stack of water containers and glasses for all.

Unfortunately, as I await my lunch, one of the industrious and obliging staff members manages to spill one of the water vessels right into the right shoe of the sole remaining social worker.

I could say she lets out a shriek, but that might be over-stating the situation.

In any case, everything stops.

A collective thought: “Is there going to be a scene?”

No, there isn’t.

Some earnest mopping and all is once again good.

The staff member even tries to refund the social worker’s meal money, but the offer is cheerfully dismissed as the lady returns to her noodles and Times Literary Supplement.

My own lunch is a combination laksa ($12).

Nothing in the least bit refined here – in fact, it’s macho.

The soup is a little disappointing, though – not really hot enough and just your standard, creamy laksa doings with noodles of both regulation kinds.

The chunky bits are big and bold – a pork ball not much smaller than the tennis variety; a large, chewy wonton; two slices of fish cake much heftier than is the norm; some rather drab roast pork.

It’s better than OK, but doesn’t really land a killer blow.

Still, I’m Very Glad this place is right here, right next door to my new place of employ.

Hopefully that gig will continue and roll on for … well, a bloody long time.

It’d be great to some day look back and know that I had the time and the work to get more adventurous and pursue the Meetbowl menu into areas at present unfamiliar to me.

I hear Bakso Special, Bakwan Special, Siomay Bandung, Batagor, Pempek Palembang and many more calling my name.

Meetbowl on Urbanspoon

Relish of Indian pickle with tomato (Anba wa tamata))

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OK, here’s another recipe from Delights From The Garden Of Eden, the Iraqi cookbook by Nawal Nasrallah – and a simpler recipe you’ll never find.

Seems obvious, too, now that I’ve tried it.

I wonder if Indians use pickles in this way?

We use commercial Indian pickles at home sparingly on our Indian cooking. But this relish takes such products to a whole new level of usefulness.

Gosh, I reckon it’d go great in sandwiches, along with curries and rice and all sorts of things.

I reckon, too, it’ll keep in the fridge but I suspect fresh is best with this.

Nawal’s recipe uses mango pickle but I used what we had – a tangy lime and ginger pickle.

I had it slathered on bread as a snack while I was cooking something else.

INGREDIENTS

1/2 cup store-bought Indian pickle of your choice

1/2 cup chopped ripe tomatoes.

METHOD

1. Mix both ingredients together gent;y.

2. Eat.

Indi Chutneys

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Indi Chutneys, Shop 4, 203 Ballarat Rd, West Footscray. Phone: 9317 8624

Despite having eaten a lot of thalis, I have never before been presented with anything like the two tubes – one orange, the other a pale green – that accompany my non-vegetarian thali at Indi Chutneys.

I’m told they’re variously called, depending on your language of choice, wafers, bourugulu or gottalu.

Some online sleuthing turns up some Indian-food-related links when searching for those terms, but I remain not much more enlightened. A search for “Indian wafer tubes” turns up a whole results that refer to sweet wafer biscuit thingies of the sort that come from Europe.

What I do know is that the names of these “wafer tubes” and pondering their origins is a whole lot more interesting than eating them.

For these turn out to be identical in texture, crunch and (un)flavour to the prawn crackers dispensed at so many eateries of Asian persuasion.

The rest of my thali ($10.95)?

Gosh, that’s really fine.

A good chicken curry of greenish hue and mild spiciness.

Some rich, glorious dal of magnificent saltiness.

And equally salty lamb curry with a richly deep brown gravy.

Some fine raita with just the right amount of vegetable crunch (onions, I think).

And, of course, plenty of rice.

The restaurant that has provided my thali is in a shop once inhabited by Southern Spice and more recently another Indian eats business so short-lived its name has been and gone from my mind.

It is also opposite the newish Footscray branch of Biryani House, thus giving this stretch of Ballarat Rd/Gordon St an Indian vibe to rival that of upper Barkly St.

As such, I am eager to get a handle on what’s happening here by visiting Indi Chutneys, but soon realise I am on very familiar ground.

For Indi Chutneys shares the same ownership and management with Indi Hots of superb biryanis fame in Footscray.

The menu at the new branch is more extensive – there’s some rudimentary dosas and Indo-Chinese items.

But mostly it seems to inhabit the same entirely gorgeous realm of no-fuss Indian basics at cheap-as-chips prices as its older sibling.

And I like that a lot – just as much as I like the idea that there’s somewhere else to get one of those biryanis.

Indi Chutneys on Urbanspoon

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Masala House

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Masala House, Watervale Shopping Centre, 5/2-14 Calder Park Drive, Taylors Hill. Phone: 9307 9601

Another zydeco-fuelled drive, another outer west shopping centre, another case of chole bhature for lunch?

Well, actually it’s something of a surprise.

I’ve ventured to this modestly proportioned, newish shopping centre ostensibly for the purpose of checking out the Masala House doasas and the like.

But the appearance – not on the weekend lunch menu, but on the menu proper – of one of my favourite Indian dishes sways me in quick time to change my mind.

After all, it’s been a while since my last chole bhature, let alone a really, really good one.

The smiling, courteous staff are happy to oblige.

Though they seem a little bemused by the fact I have no need to have the dish explained to me …

“How come you know what chole bhature is?”

“You must eat a lot of Indian food?”

… like that.

Masala House is set up near one of the centre’s entrances, and in such a way as to cater for lunchtime takeaway punters and those seeking a more formal eating experience.

At the bain marie there’s rice, lamb rogan josh and butter chicken that I, naturally, ignore completely.

According to the Masala House website, they also have a $20 buffet on Mondays and Wednesdays that looks a lot more promising.

My $9 chole bhature is the biz and a splendid lunch.

Two breads the size of footballs – fresh and hot, but oh blimey, exceedingly, excessively oily.

I figure this is because they’ve fired up the deep fryer solely on my behalf so cut them some slack in my mind. Besides, they still taste great, though I do try to eat the less oil-drenched portions.

Chick peas divine and wonderful – mildly spiced, flecked with fresh coriander and almost-fresh tomato.

And I make good use, too, of the chunky raita and piquant commercial pickle, though leave – as ever – the raw onion.

After spending a few bucks to shout myself a big, fat carrot, a large onion, some celery and a cuddly bag of chicken necks for stock, making of, I cruise home in a meandering way.

I don’t crawl or otherwise drag my feet, but I don’t exceed the various speed limits, either.

Yet for almost all the way home I am constantly tailgated.

By bogans in clapped-out Commodores.

By bogans in SUVs.

By bogans in Beemers.

By bogans with caps on backwards.

By bogans smoking cigarettes.

By bogans using mobile phones.

And even by bogans using mobile phones AND smoking cigarettes.

Dickheads one and all.

Masala House on Urbanspoon

Irony

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My new paying gig takes me from Southern Cross Station, up the road and along Clarendon St to York St in South Melbourne for work on publications and with management that overlap with my already existent and ongoing gig at Media House.

The first couple of mornings, and with plenty of time before my 9.30am start, I enjoy the leisurely stroll.

But those two days’ work become three, with a fourth declined because of another commitment, and by now I’ve had enough of the whole Flinders St, Crown noise-and-ugliness, so I hop the light rail.

I’m looking forward to ambling through the early hours of a new day at South Melbourne Market, pondering lunch options as I go.

But to my surprise, the market is closed.

It seems bizarre that such a major-league market is closed on a Thursday.

Oh well, I happily settle for a coffee from a  top spot adjacent to the market at which I have already become a regular. Only two more coffees and I’m up for my first freebie.

As well, just up York St is a low-rent Indonesian joint – just the sort of place to set my pulse racing. At lunchtime, though, I majorly wuss it, deciding against one of the ace-looking laksas that several customers are slurping for fear of ponging up my new office and irritating new colleagues.

It’s a mistake – the gado gado I go for is barely acceptable, though my two fried pork balls are pretty good.

My new workplace is fine and the work nothing but a pleasure. Over the course of three days, I work on a lot drool-worthy food stories and mostly well-written pieces and profiles about many interesting topics and people.

Predictably, I already a know a few of my new colleagues from other places and times – including one fellow sub-editor with whom I last worked on the long-defunct Sunday Herald more than two decades previously. There is barely one degree of separation between myself and every other journalist in the place.

But while I work across a number of mastheads, I have been summoned here for one specific purpose – to work on Geelong stories for the flashy, glossy new Weekly Review that is being launched in the town of my former employment.

The irony is rich and deep.

Just a few months after being given the flick from the Geelong Advertiser, I am happily working on a project that is targeted directly at that newspaper’s advertising base.

In the process, I am handling stories written by people likewise dismissed from the Advertiser and writing captions for photographs taken by another former colleague who left about the same time.

Moreover, my understanding is that this new publication is no tentative step into Geelong and that this is very much about being in it for the long haul.

There are jokes in my new workplace that the Geelong Advertiser should be renamed the Geelong No-Advertising.

If this was just a matter of sticking it to News Ltd management that has seemingly been so busy, um, streamlining the company, by some accounts turning its suburban and regional titles into branch offices for the Herald Sun and seeing sub-editors as a cost burden rather than assets to be fostered and fought for, I would glory in every story, every headline written and every paid hour, and all those to come.

But the pleasure is muted somewhat by the knowledge that this is bad news indeed for many good people who were so recently my colleagues at the Advertiser.

Still, I can’t help but reflect on the swings and roundabouts of it all.

There’s no permanent positions for me, or a whole lot of other folks with whom I’m currently working. Those days, perhaps, have gone forever.

But there’s security of a kind in being in places and at a time where what I’ve always done is accorded value.

Spottiswoode Hotel

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Spottiswoode Hotel, 62 Hudsons Rd, Spotswood. Phone: 9391 1330

Quite a few months before our fine Sunday lunch at the Spottiswoode Hotel, we’d dropped in merely in pursuit of ATM facilities.

The Consider The Sauce ethos fully embraces bare-bones, old-school pubs, but in this case the gloomy vibe saw us heading for the exit as soon as our business was done.

Since then, the place has undergone a comprehensive makeover.

We’ve been hearing good things about it.

We’ve checked out the menu at the pub’s website, and found it to be meaty, matey and very good-looking.

We’ve been hearing good things, too, about the size, quality and price of the joint’s Sunday roast deal – Thanks, Sue! – so we’re upbeat for our visit.

The renovations have been drastic.

There’s a lot roomy space amid the three co-joined interior eating/drinking spaces.

There’s a lot of wood and vintage brick, comfy-looking armchairs, a big fireplace and a sweet spot outside with umbrellas and a woodfired oven.

And there’s even a room off to the side with pinball machines, into which we later pump a handful of gold coins.

It all looks great and we find the service matches.

The menu runs to a savvy list of pub grub classics and more priced around the $20 mark for main courses.

There’s specials during the week – steak and a drink on Mondays, F&C and a drink on Tuesdays, parma and a drink on Wednesday and curry and a drink on Thursdays, all for $15. We spy, too, another special scrawled on one of the mirrors – $16 for a whole grilled with salad and chips.

But we’re here for the $10 roast.

Thus continues this year’s Consider The Sauce romance of the roast that has taken in the Famous Blue Raincoat, the Footscray Club, Bruno’s Coffee Lounge and even New Zealand.

The Spottiswoode roast deal is as good as any.

The serves look a tad modest, but that turns out to be all about the large plates.

The vegetables – nice selection, cooked but not mushy – are really tasty.

The meat – it’s lamb on the day we visit – is tender and plentiful, although we seem to have struck a portion of the animal that’s quite fatty. No matter.

The gravy is dark and rich.

The spuds are fall-apart tender – if we have any regrets it’s that we don’t get more than the two halves each we are provided.

But that’s a minor issue considering the price, terrific atmosphere and really fine service that sees the needs of each and every table met with aplomb by numerous staff members.

We’re keen to return to explore the regular menu.

Spottiswoode Hotel on Urbanspoon

Kawa-Sake revisited

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Kawa-Sake Sushi Boat & Grill Bar, 3 Anderson Street, Yarraville. Phone: 9687 8690

It’s been a while since our first visit to Kawa-Sake so we’re glad to be back.

There’s a difference this time, though – we’re guests of management.

Instead of seeing us muddle through what is quite an extensive menu, manager Lucy is keen to place before us an array of her specific choices (full disclosure below).

We are most emphatically up for it.

Everything we have is good. Some of it is very good – especially the seafood.

Tuna tataki ($16.90, top picture) is meltingly tender inside and with just a sliver of tasty seared crust – quite different from the overtly garlicky beef dish of the same description.

Sashimi (various prices) – only two (regulation) species of fish but big serves and oh-so-fresh.

Bennie is taking with increasing gusto to raw fish – not his favourite thing by any means, but he’s getting there.

And Lucy admires his chopstick skills!

Likewise, he barely notices the gooey bits as we each devour a crispy, delicious soft shell crab ($8.80).

Ebi tempura ($8.50) is three good and big prawns in unoily batter.

Salmon age roll ($15) is described to us as “sushi for people who maybe don’t like eating raw fish”. I have no problem with that approach, but this crusty ball seems a bit of a blur to me, with no real distinct flavours.

Calamari skewers ($3.90) are chewy and nice, but maybe could do with some more of that chargrilled zing.

Sake-marinated quail (three for $16.80) are sticky, yummy and a nice counterpoint to all the seafood we’ve been gobbling.

It doesn’t take too much looking to find comments from people who really don’t like the food at Kawa-Sake – or the very place itself, including the decor, service and general approach.

There’s some, too, who seem hung up on the fact the place is run by people who are not born-and-bred in Japan.

If you’re fussy about notions of purity when it comes to Japanese food, or the people who make it and serve it, then maybe Kawa-Sake is not for you.

In the meantime … the staff are lovely, the service is good and – despite it being a tight fit space-wise – it’s very family friendly.

Our meal at Kawa-Sake was provided free of charge by the owner in return for a story on Consider The Sauce. The dishes in our meal were selected by management. Kawa-Sake has not been given any editorial control of this post.

Kawa-Sake Sushi Boat & Grill Bar on Urbanspoon

Best eats to snack on while cooking

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1. Corn chips and taramasalata.

2. Olives.

3. Indian snacks bought from Barkly St, West Footscray.

4. Parmesan shavings.

5. Pickled onions.

6. Sour pickled gherkins.

7. End nubs of really excellent sourdough bread dipped in VOO.

What are yours?

Do you, like me, often spoil enjoyment of the finished dish by snacking too much while cooking?

Indian fruit salad

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Sometimes after a big lunch day, we back off for the night-time meal with a simple fruit salad.

Most often that means the chopped fruit with a dollop of yogurt on top.

But every now and then we take the time to make this delicious variant.

I found this in a book of vegetarian Indian cooking I used a lot when I first started cooking Indian food.

The book is long gone, but this recipe remains its legacy.

I’ve never heard, read or seen anything like it any other cookbook or Indian eatery.

For this particular effort, we had a particularly tropical line-up of fruit goodies – two small blood oranges, a large and very ripe mango and a punnet of strawberries, bulked out a little by the everyday-exotica of a couple of bananas.

INGREDIENTS

Fruit – whatever you have on hand, desire or can afford.

Salt – to taste

Freshly ground black pepper – to taste

Freshly roasted and ground cumin seeds – to taste

Chilli powder – to taste

Lemon juice – to taste

METHOD

1. Chop fruit into bowl.

2. Gently mix fruit

3. Add seasonings.

4. Gently mix seasonings into fruit.

5. Serve.

Jus Burgers

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Jus Burgers, 364 Chapel Street, South Yarra. Phone: 9827 1318

Consider The Sauce is listed with a fledgling social media service called Social Callout, which is endeavouring to connect bloggers with marketers, PR types and folks wanting to talk up their products and services.

I hooked up with this crew not because I’m eager to get my snout in the freebie trough – been there, done that.

It’s more about being open to new story ideas.

But while it’s very early days yet, I think it’s already fair to say there’s not much future in our relationship with this site – so far the “callouts” have been overwhelmingly of zero interest to CTS and the prospects of there ever being any with applications to the west seem nil.

The one that did catch our eye was posted by Perth-based burger outfit Jus Burgers, seeking bloggers to check out their new Chapel St emporium.

So I applied for the “callout” and … nothing.

The “callout” went up again, so I applied again.

Turns out there’s been some gremlins in the Social Callout system, but this time I eventually get an email reply from Melbourne Jus Burgers manager Cory.

When I finally talk to him on the phone, it’s clear we’re on the same page when it comes to bloggers, freebies, marketing and so on.

“There’s no way I expect blogger reviews to be all positive,” he says. “In fact, if they’re anything less than honest, then they’re not of use to us. Besides, if there’s critcism, that’s the kind of feedback we need.”

So on that basis, we’re happy to make a rare foray across the river to Chapel St for a complementary meal (full disclosure below).

In fact we’re quite excited, as the menu strongly hints at good eats to be had at a place that presents as a more tony, ambitious version of the sort of thing Grill’d does.

The line-up of burgers and sides is enticing – see full menu below.

There’s THREE kinds of slaw.

Among the JB boasts are “no frozen food” and “all Victorian”.

And to top it all, one of CTS’s very best pals, food obsessive Nat Stockley, is very much a burger expert – one who has given Jus Burgers the thumbs up!

The place is smaller than we expect, though there is a kid-friendly room “out the back”.

Exposed brick, graffiti-style sloganeering, too-loud hip-hop – it fits right into the Chapel St scene.

But ambiance be damned – we’re here for the food.

Bennie’s wagyu burger earns an instant 10 out of 10, what with its beaut, crispy charcoal flavour and texture – once he’s done licking his chops and fingers.

For like his dad’s excellent roo burger, it’s a truly sloppy handful.

This messy outcome is due to both the overkill in terms of the various sauces and dressings used on our respective burgers and the crumbly Turkish-style buns.

Truth is, though, we don’t care.

It’s a finger-licking feast time, the paper serviettes are of the more substantial variety and there’s plenty of them at hand not far from our table.

Apart from the terrific patty in my burger, there’s a nice spice hit from the “horseradish slaw and goan cuisine green chilli jam”.

Our sides arrive after our burgers, but we don’t mind that, either – even though, predictably, there’s more food than we can feasibly consume.

Chips – very good; hot and crisp.

Onion rings – way better than very good; sensational, amazing, as good as any we’ve had. Ever.

Honestly, these rings are near-perfect, with a mostly grease-free coating that adheres to the onion remarkably well. Maybe, just maybe, they have a touch too much salt.

Spanish slaw (“sherry vinegar, honey and smoked paprika dressing”) – the only blah part of our meal. We expect some real zing and some sharply defined tastes, but get instead a rather bland and overly sweet salad. If anything, the mint and sweet factors remind us of a bland Vietnamese coleslaw.

Would we have paid for our meal?

Yes, happily.

Is Jus Burgers worth a trip to Chapel St?

Yes, just for a different, quality take on the familiar.

Meanwhile, the CTS flirtation with Social Callout and the unease it is causing is leading us to reconsider our whole approach to such matters.

Our meal at Jus Burgers was provided free of charge by the owner in return for a story on Consider The Sauce. Neither staff nor management knew what we were going to order. Jus Burgers has not been given any editorial control of this post.

Jus Burgers (South Yarra) on Urbanspoon

Big slide, little boy, wimpers of fear …