Monthly Archives: March 2011

Chef Lagenda

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16 Pin Oak Crescent, Flemington. Phone: 9376 2668

New Chef Lagenda review here.

The Flemington foodie strip of Racecourse Rd/Pin Oak Cres has been a rare destination for us in the past year, where once it was quite the regular.

Maybe it’s to do with the demise of the wonderful Big Chopstix. What was once a cracking Chinese/Malaysian joint has been replaced by a mostly Sino place of much less distinction.

Or maybe it’s to do with the lingering memory of another Chinese place that replaced prawn dumplings still hard frozen in the centre with … more prawn dumplings still hard frozen in the centre.

In any case, it’s a bunch of fun to be taking my time taking in the sights and menus on this Thursday lunch time. It’s a day off, it’s pay day, the sun is shining and I’m in the mood.

It’s been a while since we visited the new-look, new premises Laksa King, but this time around I settle on its next door neighbour, Chef Lagenda.

It’s dead on noon, or thereabouts, but there’s several tables already taken – all by folks of the Asian persuasion. Which fact I take as a Good Sign.

The place is done out using recycled wood and brick, and looks very fine.

The crockery is even embossed with the restaurant’s logo.

It’s kind of pokey, though. There’s steps, stairs and inclines that no doubt are a stress factor for new waiting staff.


I’d entered with laksa on my mind, but surprise myself by ordering the Roti Canai Special.

I know I shouldn’t, but order a serve of achar as well.

My plates are of a type that means they’re both on my table within five minutes.

The achar ($4.90)  is less tangy and pickled than those I remember from earlier years and other places. Still, it’s a nice jumble of cabbage, cauliflower, onion, cucumber and carrot with a bit of chilli kick and sesame seeds. In a nice touch, it’s served on top of a bed of cucumber spaghetti, which gives the whole dish a really nice crunchy, healthy feel.

Like many of its kind, the curry and roti combo looks a means serving for $10.20. But I know from frequent practice that looks can be deceiving.

So it is in this case.

I know not if the bread is housemade or not, but it’s still good. It’s unoily, and stays moist and pliable until the last shred.

The bowl of beef rendang has four large pieces of wonderfully tender meat. But as aficionados of this dish know, it’s not the meat that counts – it’s the gravy, and delicious use thereof for mopping up with the roti.

On that basis, I’m on a winner here. The gravy is rich, mildly spicy and beautifully integrated. By that I mean that it may be really oily but doesn’t appear to be so. It’s delicious, especially once the meat starts falling apart and mixing in.

It’s a super good meal, so much so that I am unsurprised that the quantity of roti precisely matches that needed to wipe out the last of the curry with a final mouthful of bread.


Still, I’m just a tad regretful that I hadn’t ordered one of the dishes I see whizzing about me as the place fills up. The Hainanese chicken rice ($8.50) looks especially toothsome – something to look forward to. Everyone loves it, but really great versions are not that easy to find in Melbourne.

For me, and based on a single visit, Chef Lagenda has the edge on Laksa King.

Read more about Chef Lagenda, the source of its rotis and other speculation/opinions at Urbanspoon here.

Chef Lagenda on Urbanspoon


Jolly Rogers

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306-308 Melbourne Rd, Newport. Phone: 9399 4339

UPDATE 26/1/12: This restaurant has closed down. Becoming, according to a post on Urbanspoon, a Subway! Booo!

Stepping on to the train to Newport, I muse on the disturbing truth of how car-dependent we have become.

Our wheels are in the car doctor’s rooms for the weekend, hopefully with an affordable resolution the outcome on Monday.

In the meantime, a man has to eat.

And a blog is whispering about a scandalous week of neglect.

I am headed for the Souvlaki Hut outlet that took up residence a while back in what was once a fish and chip place, interested to see what resides at the intersection of Greek and Franchise.

I am thoroughly bemused and confused, therefore, when I near the establishment and see signs that say Jolly Rogers.

What’s going on?

After an enjoyable lunch, co-owner Anthony Scarlata gives me the lowdown.

He and his business partner bought Jolly Rogers a tad short of five years back.

Eventually, they signed up with the Souvlaki Hut people, but for various reasons that didn’t work well.

So now they’re back with the original name and have been open five weeks when I visit.


Along the way, they’ve retained a Mediterranean flavour – and hence signage that says: “Jolly Rogers … with a twist.”

So what does that mean?

Well, there’s still a heap of fish and chips going around.

But there’s also the likes of grilled halloumi cheese, dips, onion rings, burgers, souvlakis and salads. Gosh, there’s even brown rice for $3.95.

There’s kids meals for $5.95 – nuggets, calamari, F&C – which can upgraded with a slushie or soft drink for a very excellent $1.

“Mamma’s seafood salad” costs $15.95 while an entry level burger clocks in at $7.50 ($2.50 extra for chips) and char-grilled calamari at $9.95

Despite an ambiance that suggests fast food and franchising, this is a full-service restaurant. You can order a wine or a beer, my order is taken at my table, the cutlery and crockery are real and the service and welcome are efficient and chipper.

As such, the prices seem very fair and I suspect I’ll be returning quick smart with Bennie on hand to explore the menu in greater detail.

It presents as a really good place of the “family restaurant” variety. Moreover, it also seems to be a place where we will be able to pursue our occasional longings for seafood without going broke in the process.

Your flashier seafood joints, of none or any ethnicity, are usually well beyond our means, so this could be the beginning of a cool friendship.


Take, for instance, my “Seafood for 1 deal”, which costs $12.95.

The three calamari rings are as good as any I’ve ever had, the batter light and dry, the calamari tender and tasty. Outstanding!

The fish – rockling, I am informed – is just about as good, the nice-sized fillet encased in a batter that could be crisper. The fish itself is really, really good and flavoursome.

The chips are OK, likewise the salad, although both come across as a bit of an afterthought.

Upon inquiring about tartare sauce or mayo for chip-dipping purposes, I am presented with a bowl of good aioli for which I am not charged.

I’m having such a grand time – eating, relaxing, reading the newspaper – that I linger a while longer over a truly fantastic latte.

Extra brownie points to Jolly Rogers for in-house music that runs through the likes of the Temptations, Van Morrison, the Zombies, Dusty Springfield and the Monkees. Sure as hell beats the high-volume and teeth-grindingly awful Led Zep I endured at Mankoushe a week or so before!

I figure my enforced train trip to Newport has been a good omen, so I catch another choo choo back to Yarraville. As if I have any choice, walking side.

Jolly Rogers with a twist on Urbanspoon

John’s Nuts & Deli

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Shop 30, Metro West Shopping Centre, cnr Paisley and Albert Sts, Footscray. Phone 0419 138 992.

For some reason I’ve always had Johns Nuts & Deli pegged as just another continental deli, the kind found in various other Footscray venues, in Sunshine, Carlton, Brunswick – and even in Chapel St.

The kind of delis that were a signpost of an earlier wave of migration to Australia, from Italy, Greece and continental Europe.

Well, in this case I simply hadn’t been looking hard enough. Or rather, my eyes didn’t see what wasn’t there.

Yes, there are many, many staples of your standard Melbourne-style deli – tinned tomatoes, jars of many different kinds of pickled vegetables, jams, wafer biscuits, a big range of dried fruit and nuts, stacks of sacked rice and beans and other pulses and much more.

What there is not, however, is meat in general and the many byproducts of pork in particular.

Owner George Sallama tells me his parents come from Jordan and Lebanon and that the family has run this business for 16 years.

And that Middle Eastern heritage no doubt explains a change I have been noticing at Johns – in a way that reflects the immediate changing community, the clientele is taking on a pronounced African slant.

For George, this is just simply doing smart business.

He tells me his African customers know where to head in his store for products and ingredients specific to their cooking and other needs.

These include the likes of sorghum and white cornflour for making injera.


But this new wave of customers also buys the same rice and beans and more as his other customers; they just use them differently, as we all know to our grand benefit!

Another speciality African item George stocks are what he calls mafraka.

These look like rudimentary walking sticks for persons of diminutive stature.

Wrong!

They’re actually a form hand-held beater used to help the cooking process of molokhia, the spinach-like dish found at many nearby African eateries.

George demonstrates by placing a mafraka between his hands, with the beater end downwards, and then briskly rubbing his hands together.

So simple!

My needs at Johns on this outing are simple – roasted almonds, dried apricots and white sultanas.

I include a couple of pieces of juicy baklava as an afterthought.

John’s Nuts & Deli is a living, breathing mirror to the changing face of Footscray.

Harmony Feast

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Maidstone Community Centre, 21 Yardley St, Maidstone. Phone: 9317 0747

This free event at the Maidstone Community Centre ticks so many excellent boxes for me I am entertaining visions of hordes of hungry, happy locals descending on Yardley St to graze hungrily among many dozens of food stalls.

So I am somewhat bemused to find the feast is considerably more low key than that, though no less enjoyable than expected – far from it.

The food serving is spread throughout several of the centre’s rooms and out the in the beaut back yard.

If the crowd is less populous and frenzied than I’d imagined, it is certainly a happy one, its members ranging as far and wide in size and age as they do in their dizzying array of skin colours.

And I expect many of them are just like me and enjoy a bash in which the term “multicultural” is one to be embraced and celebrated.

How did multicultural come to be such a dirty word with such negative connotations in Australia?

Rhetorical question folks! We all know their names.

Anyway, this lovely party is a poke in the eye for them – and especially those who of late have been making preposterous comparisons between Australia and the vastly different situations in, say, Germany, France and Scandanavia.

Oubt, you damn dog whistlers!


At each serving table there are neat stacks of a complementary cookbooks containing all the days recipes – very cool, eh?

I start with vegetable alicha and ye misir wot – a simple Ethiopian vegetable stew and a very dry lentil dish, both served with dark brown injera. Even before venturing elsewhere I return for a second serve!

Outside, I score a nice long snag on a slice of white bread, topped with South American roast tomato salsa. Ethiopian zilzil and satay sauce round out the topping choices.

In the centre’s kitchen, I obtain a homely and hearty bowl of polenta, white bean stew, basic short pasta in tomato sauce and a single meatball.

Outside again, I enjoy herb paste pizza that emanates from the wood-fired oven –  basic thin flat bread smeared with an oily, herby paste.

Seeing a range of drinks being dispensed in small cardboard cups that make the process look like mass medication, I jokingly ask if they have multicultural LSD before knocking back a couple of homemade lemonades.


Of the savoury dishes on hand, I miss only the rice paper rolls and tandoori chook. There are queues for both.

I pass by the lemonade scones and head for the Filipino buco pandan, a slithery, sexy, extremely green mix of grass jelly, condensed milk, cream, coconut, tapioca pearls and more.

The speechifying is kept to a minimum and every soul in the pace is having a fine old time as Ray Pereira gets a willing group of volunteers together for an African drumming session.

I believe this is the second Harmony Feast to be held at the centre, and I’ll be sure to make a point of attending the third.

Sourdough Kitchen

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172 Victoria St, Seddon. Phone: 9687 5662

Heading out for breakfast used to be a major part of our routine a few years back.

Mind you, we’re talking coffee and toast mostly – not the egg-heavy chow-down fry-up favoured by so many.

But our morning habits have evolved and changed.

We make our own muesli, and we know that’s very good for our insides, allowing us to be a little bit naughty during the rest of the day.

Besides, for cereal/muesli most cafes charge double the price listed for toast/jam.

Isn’t this exactly the wrong way around?

I mean, toast is grain made into something – bread.

Jam is fruit that’s been made into something.

Butter is milk that’s been churned.

Muesli is just grain, plus a few bits and pieces, yet in many places it goes for $10 or more.

We’d go the bacon/eggs/spinach/hashbrowns/snags/mushies/avocado/tomatos/kitchen sink route less than once a year.

And in terms of eating out, isn’t lunch or dinner so much more alive with potential for miracles and greatness?


But it is the near-complete absence of out-and-about brekkies from our lives that makes a Friday morning visit to Sourdough Kitchen charged with novelty value and a sense of refreshing change.

We’d not noticed preparations for the bakery before it opened, so were surprised when Deb trumpeted its debut at Bear Head Soup.

Since then we’ve visited several times – for coffee (very good) and takeaway scrolls (fruity, heavy, delicious).

We’ve also enjoyed several slices of primal pizza, including a fragrant chewy number topped with  zucchini, eggplant, some capsicum, olives, fresh rosemary, olive oil. The slices are scrumptious, cost $5.50 and have already become a lunchbox option for us.

Just like that (sound of fingers snapping) Sourdough Kitchen has become a splendid part of the local scenery. As I read my newspaper and enjoy my breakfast, a steady stream of customers come and go. Takeaway coffee, bread, rolls. Another couple of tables host locals deep into their caffeine hits and conversation.

My toast and jam costs $5.50 and is fine. I get three slices of good sourdough and more than enough butter. The strawberry jam, though, is a bit on the runny side and is almost all syrup and very little fruit.

As I’m going about my business I imbibe two outstanding lattes.

The brekkie tab is just a tad over $11.

The bakery is restricting its options to fairly light fare for both breakfast and lunch – see menu below – for what I have been told are reasons connected to power supply issues. For lunch, in addition to the pizza slices, there are some fine-looking filled rolls.

Sourdough Kitchen already feels like it’s been around for a lot longer than a mere month or so – and I mean that as a compliment!

Sourdough Kitchen on Urbanspoon

bowlz @ the deck

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Yarraville-Footscray Bowling Club, 339A Francis St, Yarraville. Phone: 9314 4530 ‎

We love the way doing Consider The Sauce has changed our world – with the trying of more and different food just the start of it.

Happily, we are also finding ourselves meeting and conversing with a dazzling range of western suburbs folk whom we might never have otherwise met.

Equally happily, CTS is helping us look at our surroundings with a whole new set of eyes – not to mention tastebuds.

For this lunch on an overcast Thursday, though, I am merely hoping my lunch tastes better than it looks.

It does.

Heading out for my standard routine of Lebanese pie and shopping at the Circle in Altona, I surprise myself by turning right, suddenly inspired by the idea of checking out the Yarraville-Footscray Bowling Club.

After all, this is prime-time western suburbs – a venerable institution on Francis St past which we’ve driven a gazillion times without ever stopping to have a look. Or a feed.

I shudder at the mere glimpse of poker machines but march on and in – eventually discovering that not all “pokie venues” are the same.

The club’s bistro is called bowlz @ the deck, and it’s in that direction I head, sidestepping the lure of a snacky bar menu on which just about everything is under $10.

Most of the proper menu is beyond my lunch budget, but I zero in on the “seniors” section of the main list, every item on which goes for $11.90 at lunchtime Tuesdays through Thursdays.

On it are such things as rissoles and mash, whiting fillets and roast of the day.


The club also nominates Mondays as steak night, on which rump goes for $13.90, scotch for $5.90 and 600g T-bone for $21.90.

It’s no surprise my shepherd’s pie is quite unlike that what was made by mum – and maybe still is. She’ll no doubt let me know when she reads this. (Hi Mum!)

Her way is the traditional way and involves leftover roast lamb, hand-minced.

The bowlz variation, by contrast, is your basic beef stew topped with mashed spuds. Having said that, it tastes real good – the meat is tender and there’s plenty of it in a rich brown gravy.

The broccoli is overcooked, but the corn, carrots and cauliflower are good.

It’s simple, homely fare and I dig it a lot.

Maybe when I return with Bennie we’ll go for the $6 bar menu roast roll with gravy.

After eating, I wander around taking photos and talking to the staff. It’s a bowls club, yes, but has a warm and lived-in feel. The pokies are somewhat tucked away and obviously not the main game here. Hooray for that, too!

There are only a couple of the bistro tables taken, and it is from one of them that an elderly gent eventually peels away to check out what the weird guy with camera is up to.

This turns out to be Kevin Brown, a former secretary and long-time servant of the club.

After assuring him of my honourable intentions, he spends the wonderful next half hour or so regaling me with stories about the club and the struggles involved in keeping such an enterprise going in the face of threats from various quarters and no government funding at all.

We examine some of the photos that adorn the bistro walls, one of which is a 1950 shot of Anderson St – and still recognisably the same thoroughfare we use today.


I find him inspiring.

We even have a chuckle about the fact that among the club sponsors is a funeral service.

“Just about all bowls clubs have funeral directors on board,” says Kevin. “I’m 80.”

Seems obvious, eh? And somehow both brutally real AND comforting, reassuring.

I leave with a spring in my step, vowing to return sooner rather than later.

The Yarraville-Footscray Bowling Club website is here.


Kim Quynh

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56 Alfrieda St, St Albans. Phone: 9364 3872

Is there a dud eatery on Alfrieda St?

Even the charcoal chicken shop looks worth a go.

Truth is it’s still an adventure for us – and lots of fun.

But we really have little or no idea what we’re about when we’re there – it’s hit and miss for us, and that’s a kick all on its own.

For this holiday Monday lunch, once again we take our time, enjoying the sunshine as we stroll the full length of both sides of the street, just taking it all in.

We got lucky last time with the Chinese roast meats at Just Good Food – and we’re hoping our luck continues.

We veer away from the several restaurants that are jam-packed, with every table taken.

Likewise, we shun the single place we spot that has just a single table of customers.

We choose Kim Quynh based on the simple if unscientific premise that it’s busy and crowded with enough locals to guarantee a good feed while also having a few spare tables – which we hope means we’ll be welcome and not receive the sort of sloppy service and food that sometimes emanates from restaurants operating at fever pitch, with staff rushed off their feets.

We do good and a fine lunch ensues.

Kim Quynh is a mixed Viet/Sino joint that is across all the usual soups, noodles and rice dishes, with a menu that as usual has more formal sharing dishes of the Chinese variety towards the rear of the menu. Unlike most such places, it does pho, too.

After some reckless ordering the previous week at Dong Ba in Footscray, resulting in a meal unsatisfactory for us, we keep it simple and conservative by both ordering dishes we’ve had many times elsewhere.

Bennie goes for the tomato rice with stir-fried marinated diced beef (com bo luc lac, $10).


It’s damn fine.

The beef is lovely – so tender! The onions do that clever trick of being both crisp and sweet. This dish can sometimes be really heavy on the oil, but this is not such a one. The rice, laced with eggy bits and a few peas, has a nice nutty flavour.

The accompanying bowl of chicken broth is only lukewarm but good, while Bennie loves judiciously using the seasoned salt and lemon slice as his meal disappears.

Stupidly, though, when I photograph his meal I include the fish sauce/chilli/carrot concoction that is actually meant to go with my banh hoi bo la lot (grilled beef in vine leaves with fine rice vermicelli, $12).

My lunch looks a little on the dull side at first blush, but it, too, is fully satisfying.

It’s all there – crunchy peanuts, lettuce, herbs, spring onions, cucumber, carrot, bean sprouts.

The stubby bullets of beef wrapped in vine leaves are a little smaller than I am familiar with, but they are of delightful chewiness and pronounced cow flavour.

Substitute non-meat spring rolls for the beef and I reckon you’d have a perfect – and supremely healthy – vegetarian meal.

As there are options for these dishes closer to our Yarraville pad, it may be that visits to Kim Quynh will be rare for us.

But if we lived in its vicinity, we’d be steady regulars.

Mankoushe

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325 Lygon St, Brunswick East. Phone: 9078 9223

If we are to resist the deeply seated urge to always head west when embarking on a food adventure, then what I call the “bottleneck end” of Lygon St is just the sort of promenade to inspire a foray east.

From the “bottleneck” itself, where the road narrows to two lanes and a plethora of interesting eateries and shops are to be found, to its northern end, where the Liberty cinema used to live, upper Lygon St mixes ethnic funkery, solid working-class ambience and inner-city hip with style.

Like nearby Sydney Rd, it’s one of our favourite non-western destinations.

So cool are they both that we’re happy to confer upon them honourary western suburbs status. And besides they are no more of a drive than the likes of Deer Park and St Albans, both of which we’ve been visiting regularly of late.

This Sunday we are headed for Mankoushe and Lebanese pizzas/pies.

This is done over Bennie’s objections, he desiring Lebanese of a more substantial kind in Sydney Rd, but in the end he’s delighted with his dad’s choice.

As he should be, as the goodies at Mankoushe are truly sensational.

We heard about Mankoushe from the nice people at GRAM Magazine, but I suspect there are a bunch of online reviews out there, for this is the kind of place that makes foodies drool.

What the family that runs Mankoushe does – building on the standard Lebanese pizza/pie formula with imaginative and tasty flights of inspiration – takes true audacity.

That they do so by producing food that is cheap to buy, fabulous to look at and heavenly to eat – all the while admirably retaining a strong sense of authenticity – is testament to culinary wizardry that approaches genius.

There are some 26 pizzas/pies on the menu, all made with organic spelt flour.

They range from you bog standard zatar for $2 up to $9 for the most expensive, but most are in the $5-6 range.

Crucially, the use of non-traditional ingredients is restrained and extremely well thought out. In this, the Mankoushe meals resemble the new wave of Italian piazzas to be had around town – except, of course, in the matter of pricing!

The bases are amazingly light and moreish.


My order of spicy fetta – feta, fresh tomato, capsicum, onion and a dash of lemon and chilli for $5.50 – is the only disappointment. My parcel is fine and fresh, with a quite agressive chilli hit, but there is little or no salty tang or flavour from the feta.


Bennie fares a whole lot better with his beef kafta – mince meat, parsley, onion and “seven spices” for $6.20.

The meat is more substantial and flavoursome than the usual shallow smear found on Lebanese meat pizzas, while fresh tomato slices and heavenly, creamy mayo top off this masterpiece.

Having foreseen that one pie apiece would not be sufficient, I am happy for us to split a third – at these prices, who’s counting?


Our sojok – spicy sojok (salami), cheese, fresh tomato, onion, olives and pickled cucumber for $6 – is another terrific pie. We gobble it up without arguing over the final two slices – one large (Bennie), one small (Kenny).

By this time, our hosts realise we are a couple of mad bloggers, so present us with a complementary and fabulous housemade Lebanese sweet – a crumbly pastry shell encasing chopped nuts and more, highly perfumed with rose water.

Thanks!


Happily that little bit of “langniappe” relieves us of the need to pursue gelati down the road, so we saunter next door to Blue Attic.

This is a beaut shop that specialises in “independent artists, designers and craftspeople, predominantly from the East Brunswick area“. We have a fine old time checking out the hats, T-shirts, soaps, dragons and other goodies, all while keeping up a rambling conversation with Tani, the joint’s owner, as she makes us fine a latte and a hot chocolate. Among the many topics canvassed is Club Penguin, with Bennie giving Tani tips to hand on to her own kids.


Heading home, we pass Montgomery Park on Albion St, so can’t resist having another crack at the slide.

On a previous visit we’d found that despite its long and gleaming length, it had insufficient incline to really do the job.

This time we use a plastic bag retrieved from the car boot to assist us – with much more satisfactory results.

Whoosh!


The heavens open, so we head home for the A-League grand final and red beans and rice.

Fabulous food, coffee, conversation, silliness – it’s pretty much a perfect Sunday.

Meanwhile, we are looking forward to eating our way through the entire Mankoushe menu – even if it does take us out of our western suburbs comfort zone.

Mankoushe on Urbanspoon


Leaping Lizard Cafe

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Brimbank Park, East Keilor. Phone: 9336 3909.

By the time we get to the Leaping Lizard Cafe in Brimbank Park, a great appetite is upon us.

Which is just as well, as the only thing memorable about the food is its pervasive dullness.

That assessment is based solely on foodie aesthetics, and as such may seem a little unfair.

After all, our lunch components are all of an edible nature; are not sprouting mould; involve no other critters, alive or dead, than those advertised; and are of colour schemes generally expected with such fare.

Moreover, the lunch is not much different from what have long been standard offerings at park-style kiosks as found in, for instance, Fitzroy Gardens in the city or Queens Lake Park in Moonee Ponds – even if such is not always the case these days.

And, in an odd sort of way, our trio of bacon and egg bagel ($5), ham-cheese-tomato toasted ($5) and chicken-avocado-cheese parcel ($6.50) are a perfect fit for the old-school ambience and furnishings of the Leaping Lizard.

The cardboardish bagel is a tasteless foil for even more tasteless bacon.

The sanger is OK, but also a tad tasteless and lacking zip.

The parcel has a nice cheesy tang, with an avocado presence that is all but subliminal. The accompanying salad bits and pieces are passable, but we hastily hustle the alfalfa sprouts from the plate. The stuff of vego ’80s nightmares!

Our lunch, with a small bottle of Pepsi, clocks in at $20.80.

As well, there are old-school made-to-order sandwiches and cakes/slices available, but nothing – as far as we can tell – more substantial.

It’s all very snacky.


But really, this sort of catering is doing such a beautiful setting a grave injustice.

The cafe building itself is low-slung, lovely and nestled amid trees.

The park, of which we have been oblivious for a decade, is of stunning beauty – as we ascertain in a brief amble around after our lunch.

Brimbank Park was a tip given to us by our mate Keith, at Heather Dell, and it was in the direction of another of his tips that our Saturday adventure commenced.

Heading for Mt Atkinson Olive Grove & Cafe in Rockbank, we are eventually confronted by half-closed and rusty gate, a winding, rutted road and an old homestead with corrugated iron roof warped and twisted in surreal ways.

Neighbours inform us that the whole shebang had suffered severe fire damage a few weeks earlier.

Disappointed, as no doubt Keith will be on hearing this sad news, we consult the Melways and conclude there is still time for a quick dash to Brimbank Park and a meal that can still viably be labelled lunch.

After some frantic driving, a few missed turns and some backtracking, we get there eventually – only to have a lacklustre meal.

Our post-lunch walk takes in just a small portion of the sprawling park.


We check out a pretty waterfall, while on a bluff overlooking the creek a Muslim family is happily enjoying a low-key picnic of their own making – including a gas burner atop which sits a coffee maker.

And I just know, without even daring to ask, that their picnic is a lot tastier and more interesting than our blandola lunch has been.

With a bit of love, imagination and flare, the Leaping Lizard Cafe could be a shining star of the western suburbs.

Any argument that their offerings are simply devised to give park patrons what they want doesn’t wash with me – not in a region of Melbourne bursting with cosmopolitan, multicultural flavours and character.

Meanwhile, Brimbank Park has shot right to the top of our list for places to hang on school holidays – it’s safe, accessible and gorgeous.

We’ll be packing a picnic for our next visit, though.

The Parks Victoria Brimbank Park page is here.

Music: Johnny Lytle – testifyin’ vibes; Howard Roberts – slinky west coast guitar; Stranger Cole – mega-soulful rocksteady.


Kabayan Filipino Restaurant And Asian Groceries

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Cairnlea Town Centre, 100 Furlong Rd, Cairnlea. Phone 8390 1346

In its relatively short life, Consider The Sauce has written about just two Filipino eateries – Kabayan and Kowloon House.

Yet because of the nifty, superb blogging platform provided by wordpress.com, and some additional data from StatCounter, I know for a fact that the entries on both those Filipino western suburbs joints, along with Filipino food and restaurants in general, generates more interest and search engine terms than just about anything else.

The interest comes from all over the world, but mostly from the Philippines – of course! – and Melbourne.

And each time we’ve been to Kabayan, one or more of the Filipino customers has made inquiries:

“Do you like Filipino food?”

“Are you enjoying your meal?”

That interest and intrigue mirrors my own as I set off to check out the newly revamped and reopened Kabayan.

It’s been moved around the corner to larger premises that allow the incorporation of a modest grocery section.

Other than that, much seems the same as on our previous visit.

This time, though, I give the grilled-to-order meals a miss and try my luck with the pot food arrayed in the bain marie.


And this time, thanks to a young Filipino man who talks me through the dishes available, I have a good idea of what I’m eating.

Here’s the deal – two dishes with rice for $9.50.

I settle on afritada and paksiw.

The chicken afritada is a braise/stew affair, with chook pieces on the bone and vegetables in a reddish sauce/gravy. It’s a sweet dish with a dash of the piquant about it – thus making it a little like your old-school  Cantonese sweet-and-sour concoction, but much wetter.

It’s OK, but the chicken pieces are of negligible flavour.

The paksiw is something else entirely.

From what I’ve since learnt, paksiw is apparently a vinegar-based stew, in my case of pork. The various recipes and info I find online make it sound interesting.

I wish what’s on my plate was half so appealing.

The dish has some tasty gravy that nevertheless seems bereft of vinegar zing, some fine and tender pork – but, oh my, there’s soooooo much fat.

In at least a couple of different contexts – traditional roast pork crackling and Chinese roast meats – I am usually easily swayed into enjoying such decadence.

But in this dish, there is nothing at all crackly or crunchy or alluring about the fat and skin – it’s all flabby, revolting, and mixed in with the sauce/gravy

Gross!

After eating what meat there is, I leave more than half the dish on my plate.


And so I depart Kabayan once more feeling that I am missing something, that I am simply not “getting it”.

Ah well, maybe that’s the way it’s meant to be – still, I find it surprising.

I am far from the most courageous diner around, but I like or love a wide range of cooking that ranges from the Mediterranean and the Middle East to the farthest reaches of East and South Asia.

Given that, I’ve been thinking Filipino food should be a natural fit.

But based on my very limited experience, the textures and flavours – not to mention the fat content! – are just too rich and unappealing for my palate.

Kabayan does fine grilled-to-order meals, of course, but at $12+ even those seem a stretch, given I can easily grab some Viet dishes that are similar, have more vegie contrasts and trimmings, and are cheaper and tastier.

And maybe that’s the rub right there …

Perhaps not so incoincidentally, as I am writing this Ms Baklover – reviewing First Taste at Footscray Food Blog – has opined:

My palate is heavily skewed towards fresh, light Vietnamese, Malaysian and South Indian flavours.

Very eloquent!

And, I suspect, the very reason I am struggling with Filipino food.

Kabayan Filipino Restaurant on Urbanspoon



African Affair/Croation Cultural Festival

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African Affair, Footscray Community Arts Centre

Croation Cultural Festival, Australian Croatian Association, 72 Whitehall St, Footscray

We love the idea of the Melbourne Food and Wine Festival, but in a practical sense never have really engaged with it – even this year’s “Feasting In Footscray” segment.

We are very much looking forward, however, to the Sunday arvo African Affair at the Footscray Community Arts Centre – hoping for some great sounds and tastes, and maybe a few familiar faces from our regular African haunts in the neighbourhood, all on the banks of the Maribyrnong River.

It is with some puzzlement then that we ramble around to the amphitheatre to find … nothing.

We subsequently find the above notice stuck to the centre’s office door – and feel a keen disappointment.

According to Only Melbourne, the event’s organisers – Diafrix and Footscray Community Arts Centre – “were unable to attract an event sponsor for 2011”.

No doubt they share our disappointment.

Nevertheless, it’s perplexing that such an event should have been included in the festival program, and widely promoted, only to be cancelled at the last minute – meaning we are surely among several hundred potential punters left with a sense of emptiness.


No matter – this is Melbourne, this is the western subrubs, this is Footscray, so all is never ever lost.

Leaving the car where it is, we simply stroll around the corner to Whitehall St and enter the raucous goings on of the Croation Cultural Festival, wherein we spend a very pleasant hour or so.

It’s a simple affair – a row of tents selling (mostly) food, a central marquee with tables packed families and more than a few blokes getting seriously into the festival spirit, a stage from whence Croatian-style rock pumps at a fairly hefty volume, and the centre’s bar/restaurant also doing grand business. It’s hot and noisy.

We scope out the food offerings before making our choices for what will amount to an early dinner.

This is festival food – lots of grilling going, mostly of bits and pieces of dead pig.

First up is a platter of grilled sardines and four skewers of prawns doused in garlciky olive oil, with a small serve of eastern Euro-style coleslaw and a couple of slices of bread – a mighty bargain for $5.

The prawns are of prime burstiness.

The sardines are rich, oily and very yummo. Rip the heads off and suck up the tender meat, with the spines coming away nicely. Bennie finds them not to his liking, but at least he tries one.

I send him off for a roll of pork neck and he returns with a hot dog – no problem, he likes it.


The pork neck roll ($5) I eventually grab is stuffed with meat strips of profound porkiness, unadorned and much like the meat served in a more formal setting of the adjacent centre’s restaurant, of which we are fans.

Finally, almost sated, we share a small serving of  goulas ($5), its sweet and rich gravy packed with tender meat on a bed of plump rice.

That’s it – enough food, enough noise, we’re off home, where a later supper is likely to be of little more substance than a few pieces of fruit.

Before departing, though, we sneak around the back of the food tents to watch the sardines and prawns being cooked.

After a while and a bit of friendly banter with the grill boys, we are presented with yet another plate of their lusty seafood, free of charge.

Oh dear!

We down the prawns, but only a few of the small fishes, whereupon we hasten for the gate before we are accosted by yet more friendly souls intent on killing us with their generosity.

 

Bennie’s birthday lunch at Grill’d

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Grill’d, Highpoint Shopping Centre. Phone: 9317 7455

Hey, a boy only turns 10 once, so Bennie got his wish of lunch at Grill’d followed by a movie with his mates Daniel and Tah, even if his mum and dad might have preferred yum cha.

I have vivid recall of our early days at Highpoint – just after we moved west, when Bennie was a somewhat fractious baby/toddler.

Those were my first experiences with the whole shopping mall gig, and the experience quite often made me profoundly batty, not to mention cranky and cantankerous.

The music, the lighting, the crap shops, the round and round – ugh!

We don’t share the outright hostility of some of our friends towards Highpoint, but we do keep visits to a minimum.

Moreover, we’ve refined our Highpoint technique to hit-and-run – we effortlessly filter out the stuff we don’t want or need; we know where to get a Medicare rebate, a cheap pair of shoes, a football or footy boots.

If the noise and piped music no longer sends me batty, it’s not because I’m a benumbed shopping zombie – more like I’m able to focus on our immediate task and ignore the rest to emerge unscathed, emotionally, spiritually and financially.

Food is another matter, of course, and on that score Highpoint is pretty much irredeemably awful.


Plum adjoins, but it’s never really hit the spot with us.

The food court at the southern end has a Laksa King – whether it’s any relation to the Flemington establishment, I know not. It does a passable Malaysian job, but like everything else surrounding, it is to be avoided if only because of the obscene wastefulness of the disposable plastic cutlery and bowls/plates.

The food court adjacent the Hoyts cinemas boasts a China Bar – again, whether it has connections with the identically named places around the city, I know not. Here you’ll get real cutlery and crockery and – in our experience – meals of a certain dullness. Scattered around are a faux 50s/60s diner at which our only experience was dismal and Nando’s, La Porchetta and Pancake Parlour outlets.

Based on a number of visits, though, Grill’d is the top pick.

As with previous meals here, the kids loved every bite and slurp, while the adults were once again astonished that such tasty, crunchy, fresh and real food was available from a franchise set-up in a shopping mall.

Our order was four basic burgers with bacon for the boys, likewise with beetroot for mum, soft drinks all round, two serves of chips with two serves of garlic mayo and five discount movie vouchers.

The chips were really, really good – ungreasy, beautifully seasoned with salt, perfumed with rosemary, simply superb.

The burgers were just about as good – bacon that added real flavour, beef patties with nicely chewy texture, sandwiches just right for a two-handed feast. Best of all, and in some ways disconcerting for being so unexpected, was salad greenery that provided tangible crunch.


The price four our meal and movies was – gulp! – $127.

But thinking it through, I realised this was quite reasonable – say $15 per head for the food and $10 for the movie, or even vice versa.

Not a screaming bargain, then, but not a ripoff either.

I’ve been asked a few times why we would even think of visiting Highpoint when we live a five-minute walk from Yarraville’s Sun Theatre – and a pretty good hamburger joint along the lines of Grill’d.

Well, the truth is that the Highpoint Hoyts/Grill’d combo provides precisely the sort of movie experience craved by kids – particularly a trio of stroppy 10-year-olds.

With time to spare, the boys headed to the whizzbangflash games arcade, each clutching a handful of gold coins, to expend some of their nervous energy and delight in each other’s company.

The movie? Gnomeo And Juliet was an OK animated feature, but the post-flick verdict was that it was a bit too girly for the four boys.

The Grill’d website is here.