Category Archives: Places we like to eat at

Truckies Drive In Cafe

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Truckies Drive In Cafe, 90-92 Boundary Rd, Laverton North. Phone: 9325 1553

There are hundreds of fast-food outfits spread across the industrial wild west, servicing myriad operations big and small, lubricating the wheels of commerce and feeding a mix of blue-collar workers of many kinds and their support colleagues.

I’ve always assumed that they’re pretty much interchangeable and that the food involved is not much good and even less good for one’s health.

So why try this one?

Well, I’ve driven past it many times, so it has become an itch to be scratched.

It’s got the sort of name and something of the appearance of a genuine ‘Merican-style truck stop.

Still, my hopes are appropriately modest.

A good burger would be good.

A very good burger with fresh, hot, crunchy chips would be a bonus.

My more extreme fantasies run to a wise-cracking waitress named Loretta or Rhonda, a jukebox stuffed with prime Merle Haggard and a slice of house-made apple pie a la mode.

And fantasies they are, as I discover when I enter what looks like a routine fast-food place.

But the welcome from proprietor Elias and his crew is warm and welcoming.

They’ve been here for almost the all the eight years an eatery has operated here.

Even better, my dismay at the line-up of already-made and wilting burgers and kebabs is immediately dispelled upon being told that, yes indeed, a burger can be made fresh to my specifications.

My burger is better than good.

The flattened patty is rather lightweight but tastes OK.

The other components – lettuce, tomato, bacon, some raw onion, sauce – are fine.

But the ace in the hole is the top-quality bun – fresh, big and delicious.

The chips are hot, well-done and inhalable.

Even better, there’s HP Sauce on hand in which to dunk them.

Burger and a can of soft drink $6.90, chips $2.

Bargain!

And at that sort of price, requesting an extra patty is quite viable should you want a more meaty feed.

And now some wise words from two of my fellow western suburbs food fans:

Boat noodles in Errol St

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Soi 38, North Melbourne Spring Fling, Errol St.

Having been out and about the previous day on official Consider The sauce business/fun, we figure this Sunday will be a cruise.

But the perfect visit to Highpoint – sleeping bag, four pairs of socks, in and out in under 20 minutes on a crazy mad busy Sunday – has us running ahead of schedule and in the mood.

Another pleasant surprise comes when, after telling Bennie he can have his choice of any burger joint within easy driving distance, he says: “I want noodles!”

So with much glee it is we head for North Melbourne and the Spring Fling in Errol St.

Andy, from Thaicentric blog Krapow, is using the festival to launch his Soi 38 enterprise and we’re keen for a taste.

Boat noodles are a new one on us – and most likely Most Melburnians, even those with a well-honed love of Thai food.

You can read what Andy and his crew are aiming at this Krapow post and the links at the end.

Their stall – fronted by a real-deal street food cart – is doing a roaring trade, but we wait just a few minutes to get our food.

Our boat noodles are a smallish serve that is just right for us and a fine deal at $5.

Andy may be irked by the comparison, but they come across to us as a drier Thai-style version of pho.

Thin noodles, a fish ball, some beautifully tender meat, all in a richly flavoursome pork broth, garnished with coriander, bean sprouts and crunchy, healthy (ahem …) pork crackling.

While being quite plain in the seasoning department, they’re very good.

Even better, they’re served in real bowls and non-disposable chop sticks.

In our experience with street/festival food in Melbourne, this is a first.

In our opinion, this is a thing of monumental hipness!

And it goes to show that if food sellers are really intent on not using plastic, styrofoam and otherwise throwaway trash cutlery and containers, it can be done.

Quite apart from the environmental aspects, it makes the eating experience so much more enjoyable.

Bravo!

We finish our meal with a serve – from the same crew of – khanom dorayaki ($5 for four).

These little pikelet-like sandwiches – filled with the likes of with custard, pandan Ccustard, sweet taro, sala custard and creaming soda custard – are soooooo good.

After wolfing down these light-as-a-feather pleasure bombs, we head for home having had a super lunch for $15.

Hopefully, this is the start of something big for the Soi 38 crew – we certainly wish them and will be keeping a watch to learn of their next outing.

The flip side of Yarraville

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See review here.

Coming soon to the site of the former post office, on the corner of Anderson and Ballarat …

Hey, even as fans of Grill’d, we’re not sure how we feel about having a branch right in the heart of our neighbourhood.

Of course, there’s a Nando’s just up the street, but it’s not in a so prominent postion.

What do you think?

CROktoberfest

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CROktoberfest, Somers Street, North Sunshine.

It is an unexpected musical epiphany, though one that is perhaps at least a little predictable.

As we are enjoying our time – and the sights, sounds and aromas – at CROktoberfest, being held in the ground adjacent to the Melbourne Knights football ground, the music is being provided by a group led by event organiser Dom.

Now, European music is at the very fringes of my musical interests.

But this stuff makes me feel right at home – the lilt and swing is akin to the vintage downhome American music I love so much, and also very much of the Spanish-language music of the US south-west and Mexico, of which I am also a fan.

But what is it with Croatians and volume?

Even with this band and its acoustic instruments, the volume is at a full-tilt, ear-attacking, chest-thumping level – just as the music was at our previous engagement with Croatian music and food.

And all this even before the DJs and rocker get things really cranking later in the night.

Presumably, the geese digging the music from the very front of the stage are used to such things …

But of course, while we have come here to enjoy the party vibe in general, it is the food that is the main drawcard – and especially the bull on the spit.

And there’s do doubt it is a very impressive sight.

As it revolves and roasts, meat is carved from the fragrant beast and passed to crew members who dice it for stuffing into rolls awaited by eager customers.

Like all the food we have, it is dressed simply with shredded lettuce.

But on the evidence of my $10 roll, nothing more is needed.

The plain appearance disguises the quality within – this is as fine beef as I’ve ever had: Juicy, tender, slightly salty, magnificent!

Bennie goes first-up for a similarly priced schnitzel roll, after which we go our separate ways to explore the fun.

The festival area is quite compact, with kids activities off to one side and many more people inside the clubrooms, where there is more music and similar food on offer.

Even here there is music that reverberates with my past – although it, too, is at extreme volume.

There are very many happy people.

There is very much beer being consumed.

So I go with that flow and have one with my second offering of the day – pork cubes in a similar roll for the same price.

The meat here is also tender juicy and flavoursome, but has nowhere near the “wow” factor of the bull.

Bennie has a bull roll then, too.

Some more music and then we’re done – leaving the party masses to work on the rest of the night.

And morning.

Waffee Waffles + Coffee

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Waffee Waffle + Coffee, 25 Harrington Square, Altona. Phone: 9398 1689

We do breakfast out less than a handful of times a year, so are quite happy to really indulge when we do.

As in lashings of rashers or, as in this case, wonderfully sticky and chewy waffles.

There’s another reason to check out Waffee at breakfast time – out first effort to do so quickly resulted in us learning there’s no Saturday lunch to be had.

That’s fair enough, as there’s no savoury element to be found here at all.

Waffee is a small and seemingly often busy and much-cherished cafe in Altona’s Harrington Square.

There’s a communal table for about six people, a couple of tables for two and some stools at the window bench, where set up shop.

We go for the “half dozen assorted” for $15, including blueberry, cinnamon, chocolate glazed, raspberry white chocolate and hot cross.

Each waffle is served tucked neatly into its own “open” brown paper bag.

They’re semi-crispy on the outside, with a lot more substance than your usual waffle. In fact, they’re quite dense and chewy. And filling …

These waffles are made, I am told, in the style of Belgian city of Liege and are fully meant to be heavier and chewier.

Whatever the girth dynamics, they’re delicious … and, unsurprisingly, where dad prefers the more austere cinnamon, Bennie fully loves the likes of the chocolate glazed.

The waffles go super fine with our very good cafe latte and hot chocolate.

Quite apart from the cool waffles and coffee, the service here is a strong reason to return – it’s very much of the smiling, friendly and door-opening variety.

Much obliged!

Waffee Waffle+Coffee on Urbanspoon

Rose of Australia Hotel

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Rose of Australia Hotel, 54 Ferguson Street, Williamstown. Photo: 9397 6259

Exterior that emits classy vintage vibes, a narrow hallway leading to the dining room and even more narrow hallways leading elsewhere, friendly service – the Rose is doing its bit to maintain and preserve the tradition of old-school pubs in the western suburbs.

We’d eaten here once before our mid-week visit on a typically wintry Melbourne spring evening, but that’s just a hazy memory from when Bennie was a fractious toddler.

He was often a Very Naughty Boy in those days. Well, extremely trying anyway …

The classic exterior appears to have not changed at all; not so with the bistro.

We’re told the current management has been in place for about five years and the current dining room fit-out for about five months.

It’s still old-school, mind you, and we love the comfy booths arrayed along on side of the room.

So we grab one.

The menu is straight-up pub tucker, though in this instance Bennie is going to have survive without the burger he desires.

My chicken parmagiana ($18.50) is real fine – a thickish slab of flavoursome, juicy chicken topped with the regulation cheese and ham, with the biggest flavour hit coming from a fine tomato sauce.

It’s a much more substantial parma than is conveyed by the above photo.

The chips are fine, too, but I wish there was whole bunch more of them. The salad component is OK but struggles to avoid being labelled “garnish”.

Bennie has never before ordered a mixed grill.

This proves to be not the best place for him to break that particular duck.

At $19.50, it’s described to us as various meats, other bits and “warm potato salad and onion gravy”.

It’s fair to say Bennie’s never seen anything like it.

Nor have I, for that matter.

There’s heaps of smallish but delicious pieces of steak, bacon rashers, a fried egg and a goodly sausage, all smothered in dark gravy. And none of the lamb chop or cutlet we have been expecting.

The salad in the middle has a serious case of caper overkill. I’d imagined spud salad and mixed grill to be quite a workable combo, but what with the gravy and all … it just looks wrong.

Bennie’s a bit overwhelmed, and even resorts to asking for his barely warm meal to be heated up, not that it makes much difference to him.

Despite the unhappy, blameless mishap with the mixed grill – we did, after all get, exactly what was described – we like the Rose.

The Tuesday curry night – choice of one of two, with raita, house-made roti, rice, pickle and papadam for $15 – appears to be particularly worthy of future investigations.

Rose of Australia Hotel on Urbanspoon

CROkoberfest: Win tickets!

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CROktoberfest is an all day – and most of the night! – celebration of Croatian culture, including much lip-smackingly good food.

It’s being held next Saturday, October 20, right in our own backyard in Sunshine North.

Thanks to event organiser Dom, we have two tickets – worth $25 each – to give away.

Simply comment on this post, telling us in a few words why you want to go.

Team CTS will choose the winner on Wednesday night and arrange to get you tickets to you before the event.

Featured at the festival will be the CROktoberfest Cup Soccer finals, six DJs, traditional German and Croatian folk dancers, a boulder-throwing competition, cup and saucer rides, face painting and heaps more.

And, of course, lots of food.

Says Dom: “It’s the only place you will ever see a bull on the spit – that’s right a bull. The only place you will ever have cevapcici and pretzels at the same time.”

CROktoberfest is on October 20 from noon until 4am at the Melbourne Croatia Social Club, 2 Somers St, North Sunshine. Details: Dom Dedic on 0431 167 294.

Children under 12 get in for free.

CROktoberfest website.

Kingsville Primary School Fete

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Kingsville Primary School, Somerville Rd, Kingsville

What a winning school fair this was – plenty of room to move, well run, heaps of food, a spinning wheel raffle, happy people everywhere.

I had a hot dog and a brilliant coffee, and bought some real-deal homemade coconut ice.

Deniz Kebab House

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Deniz Kebab House, 829 Ballarat Rd, Deer Park. Phone: 9363 1188

Here’s a Turkish eats place that sells a lot of the sandwiches otherwise known as kebabs, but which deserves to be considered so much more than a kebab shack.

With its homely formica tables, tiled floor, very friendly service and extensive menu, Deniz Kebab House is very much a family-style full-on Turkish restaurant.

Talking with owners Tuncel and Inci is very cool, as it always when the people concerned are so full of enthusiasm and passion for what they are doing.

Everything is made in-house, they proudly tell me.

And that “everything” is a lot – not just the various meats, dips and salads but also all the sweets, bread, pides, boreks, pizzas and more.

My single dolma is good, with tomatoey rice that is so al dente it’s almost crunchy. I like it that way when it comes my way!

There’s three meat genres going around and around on spits – lamb doner, chicken and one called “slice lamb kebab”.

Seizing with glee on a point of difference, I order the latter.

It’s unlike any kebab meat dish I’ve ever experienced – nicely, gently chewy with a distinctive flavour that makes me almost think there’s some kind of cheese been used in its preparation.

I subsequently discover from Tuncel that the lamb is softened with milk and onion and cooked with salt, pepper, chilli, oregano and paprika. 

I’ve requested some of the house chilli dip so get that and none at all of the customary yogurt-based accompaniments for such a meal, but I’m cool with that and up for some heat.

The chilli dip is fiery hot and piquant, and goes great with not just the meat but also the bread, which arrives at my table so hot and fresh it’s steaming.

Dolma, meat plate with dip and salad, can of soft drink and a pide stuffed with lamb and herbs for the next day’s work lunch – and I’ve still got change from $20.

Tuncel tells me the opening of Chef Lagenda a few doors up a few months back is good for business in terms of helping the Deer Park strip foster a reputation for foodiness.

Deniz Kebab House on Urbanspoon

Zaatar

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Zaatar, 365 Sydney Rd, Coburg. Phone: 9939 9494

On my regular forays to the Middle-Eastern riches of Coburg in recent years, I have sometimes gazed at the boxy building on the corner of Sydney Rd and Albert St and wondered about its foodiness heritage.

The architectural style suggests a Chinese eatery and/or a chicken franchise, at the least, have been part of its history.

The Google maps pic has it named as Zorba’s Family Restaurant, but somewhere, sometime on my adventures, I recall seeing faded signage that declared it had once been home for some type of European cuisine.

Croatian? Hungarian? Czech?

It’s gone from my mind, and then just a few months back I noticed renovations going on.

So, of course, I stuck my nose to find out what the story was.

Middle Eastern on the way, I was told, by a crew with family connections to the venerated A1 Bakery much further south on Sydney Rd that is looking to serve cheap and great food of the kind already available in the neighbourhood but with a degree of cafe swishness.

By the time I visit, Zaatar has been open a while and appears to be going gangbusters, winning some Urbanspoon raves and even a review in the Age.

Nice going!

It’s big, roomy and cheerful, with some plain tables and many others of the tiled variety, with a big communal one in the middle of the room.

Any fears about cafe trendiness upping the dollar ask on food available at rock-bottom prices just a few blocks away are dispelled by a quick scan of the menu on the place’s website.

Plain zaatar for $1, cheese and spinach pies for $3.50, salads $4.50 and $6.50, regular cafe latte for $3.

Sounds just fine, but will all count for not too much if the quality isn’t there.

On the basis solely of my “three mezza with dip and salad” for $8.50, that would seem to be a case of yes-no-maybe.

Maybe the pies and pizzas I see being gleefully consumed around me are the go here, and it’s apparent adding some cafe-style decor and vibe is proving a winner.

But my lunch is merely OK-to-good instead of scaling the heights.

In the event, I actually get four “mezza” …

A cheese and herb “sambousik” – light and fresh.

A fat kibbe ball with a juicy lamb filling.

Two good falafel balls.

Two kafta cigars that are on the dry side.

The fattoush is better than them all – a finely-diced jamboree of tomato, red onion, cucumber, parsley and radish topped with crunchy pita flakes. It’s a big serve, but – and it amazes me to say this, as I’m something of a lemon freak – the dressing is actually too acidic in a mouth-puckering way.

The hummus is a tad tasteless, there’s only a little pot of it, and I am bemused that I have been not been provided pita bread. It goes good, mind you, slathered on the various “mezza”, some of which can do with its moisturising effect.

Love the vibe and the idea, but the execution of it in the form of my lunch means Zaatar, so far, is no threat to my affection for nearby alternatives.

I’d be happy to pay more for more zing and bells and whistles such as pickles of various kinds.

Zaatar on Urbanspoon

Footscray Club

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Footscray Club, 43 Paisley St, Footscray. Phone: 9687 2059

The Footscray Club started life in 1894, dedicated to cycling, making it one of Footscray’s oldest institutions and quite possibly its oldest “business”.

The club’s first 10 years saw it based in Nicholson St, before moving to its current premises in Paisley St. 

A few years ago, the club sold the building … to the bloke who runs the bread shop on the ground floor.

As one member quipped to me: “He used to pay us rent, now we pay him rent!”

I am told the club’s future is assured for many years to come through a lease on favourable terms – and no doubt the Bread Shop Bloke is happy to have the space tenanted by some very nice folk.

I’d passed the Footcray Club many times, always found the street-level door closed, assumed the club was a private affair and moved on.

A few weeks back, however, I found the door unlocked, so up the stairs I went, eventually to be greeted by the week-day manager, Gary, a man whose moustache is even more preposterous than that of yours truly.

After getting the lowdown on how the club operates, and ascertaining positively that I’m very welcome, I vowed to return on another day.

Sadly, income requirements mean the lunches on Thursday and Fridays will have to wait.

On those days, the club serves a range of up to 10 different meals – $7, or $10 with a pot of beer.

Read about them here.

I am however, able to visit one of the Sunday Sipper sessions, run and catered for by the members themselves, with a more concise choice of fodder.

Finding the door locked, I press the intercom button, hear some muffled words and then a series of clicks as I continue to wiggle and waggle the door handle.

Eventually, I am let in by Lance, the club member who seems to be presiding over this particular Sunday Sipper outing.

Turns out, I should be pulling the door open …

I find a nice room done out in typical club style, with about a dozen members relaxing and enjoying, some of them, the flat-screen horse racing action or the flat-screen Bathurst action.

Meal of the day is roast beef with onion gravy and vegies – $5 for members, $7 for non-members but everyone pays the member price. Well, I did!

It’s a fine meal – and a ridiculous bargain for $5.

The spuds, carrots and gravy are tops, the beef is nicely chewy and flavoursome.

The club’s standard price for a pot is a remarkable-for-these-days $3 – $2.20 on Sundays!

The club also runs a Christmas in July bash for $15.

And a Christmas at Christmas bash – also for $15.

Club membership costs $22 a year – bargain!

As I depart a happy man, a bunch of recently arrived members are merrily setting up for that afternoon’s presentation function to wrap up another year of footy tipping.

You won’t get a bowl of pho or a cafe latte at the Footscray, but you will get a heaping serve of Footscray soul.

Check out the club’s website or Facebook page.

Liquid Yarraville

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Liquid Yarraville, 58 Anderson St, Yarraville. Phone: 9325 1600

The “other” end of retail Anderson St has never been of much practical use to us, but that is changing.

It’s now where the nice people from the Post Office do their thing.

It’s where some equally nice chaps ease our IT issues.

And now there’s Liquid Yarraville.

Actually, it’s been there and open for a while, but we’ve only previously visited once – for some OK soup that nevertheless didn’t linger in the memory.

But we’re back, and liable to be so again quite soon, because the place has introduced a line of Mexican stuff.

As Liquid Yarraville basically operates – or has done so until now – as a funky soup-juice-smoothie place, we have no great expectations about authenticity or swishness to match the many Mexican-themed places that have spread like weeds across Melbourne, or even anything as impressive as the franchise joint at Highpoint.

In that regard, we get a nice surprise.

The Liquid lineup comes in three configurations – bowl, tortilla and nachos – that come in black bean and con carne flavours, and there’s a “straight-up” version of the nachos, too.

I take the tortilla option with my con carne ($7). And thinking the salsa and guacamole will be served on the side rather than on my stew, I order a small serve of corn chips for a small extra fee.

Bennie orders a large straight-up nachos ($7).

There’s no in-house fizzy drinks available, but we’re told it’s perfectly fine if we step out to the shop across the road for some. So Bennie does.

The corn chips vaguely look like a distant relative of the dreaded Dorito’s.

Happily, that proves not to be the case – they’re good, crunchy, low-salted and uncontaminated by horrid chemical-tainted flavours.

I would prefer the salsa and guacamole to be separate, but enjoy them both a lot with the corn chips before attending to the con carne.

It’s really fine – the equal mix of beans, tomato and beef mince is beautifully seasoned, though I anoint it with a few drops of the Tabasco we’ve been provided on request anyway.

With the slightly cardboardish but OK tortillas, this is very good and tasty meal for $7.

Bennie enjoys his nachos but is a tad jealous of his dad’s con carne, not realising he had been free to go that route with his meal. So he gets a big dollop of it anyway.

Good work by Liquid Yarraville to introduce simple Mexican-style choices while staying true to itself and not trying too hard.

It’s a cool place with a nice range of funky books to browse while you wait or dine.

And the very low prices are tops! 

Liquid Yarraville on Urbanspoon

A New Zealand Adventure

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Our school holiday jaunt to New Zealand involved food and eating, but it was much more about another kind of soul food – family.

It was an overdue time for Bennie and his grandma, Pauline Ethel Weir, to spend some time together and for father and son to wallow in some family time of a more extended kind.

While only encompassing a smallish quotient of the family spread across both islands of New Zealand and in Australia, it was without doubt a ripping fine time and a true delight.

It was also a chance for us to explore – albeit briefly – a part of New Zealand we’d never before visited, grandma having moved to New Plymouth, in the province of Taranaki, midway on the west coast of the North Island.

It’s a lovely city of about 70,000. It’s also a surf city, with a small port and surrounded by rolling hills of what appeared to us to be incredibly rich farm land.

For this return to the land of my birth, it struck me for the first time how few are the differences these days between Australia and New Zealand.

New Zealand’s nationwide collection of ancient vehicles and a variety of quaint ways once set it apart – whatever the commonalities between the two countries – but today the differences are increasingly hard to spot.

There were precious few pre-1970s cars to be seen.

And while some of the smaller towns we visited had heaps of charm, New Plymouth itself sported plenty of industrial-size retail precincts with vast spaces dedicated to Hardly Normal, Rebel Sport and more.

We had some beaut eating-out experiences; we had some mediocre ones, too.

But that was fine, because that wasn’t what it was about.

New Plymouth and Taranaki are looked over by the sublime and striking beauty of Mt Egmont – the awesome volcano spends much of its time shrouded in its own cloudy climate, but when it’s clearly visible it’s amazing!

Bennie gets to know the locals as Mt Egmont looks on.

We visited Ratapiko School, where Kay, Kenny’s cousin and Bennie’s second cousin, teaches.

The 100-year-old school deep in the midst of Taranaki farm land has just 20 pupils, ranging from prep up to the Kiwi equivalent of grade 6. Coming from Victoria, where school closures and amalgamations, and their ramifications, remain a sensitive subject, this struck me as quite wonderful.

It was the last day of school for them, so we happily joined in the break-up sausage sizzle.

Having spent the week to that point in the company of two adults, Bennie loved hanging a while with the Ratapiko kids and even kicked a football around, and was astounded to learn that some of the pupils regularly rode their horses to school.

After the school visit, we headed for the farm run by Kay, her husband Lawson and daughter Amy.

We were given The Tour by Lawson.

City Boy Bennie had never been around so many animals … outside of the Collingwood Children’s Farm or, in earlier years, petting zoos.

He fed a hungry spring lamb that had earlier demonstrated its eagerness by sucking urgently on a digit, and played with Misty the cat and Basil the house dog.

Basil, who makes up with personality what he lacks in good looks, apparently lords it over the nine or so working dogs on the farm and generally reckons he runs the joint.

That night we enjoyed a farm-style roast dinner with all the trimmings – a routine meal for Kay, Lawson and Amy, but a pretty darn cool treat for us!

The next day, Kay and family took us to the footy – rugby union, that is.

Everyone in Australia knows New Zealand is obsessed with rugby, but you’ve got to be there to understand just how deep it goes.

Heck, even the premier school teams – “first XVs” – are featured on television. Not live, and not full games, but still …

But while the All Blacks rule and the Super 15 competition grabs the rest of the international action, it is the provincial teams that are the heart and soul of the nation’s game.

So it was a real treat, for me anyway, to attend a home Taranaki match against neighbouring province Manawatu.

The Ranfurly Shield was at stake.

Like most provincial games these days, it was part of the ITM Cup season, but the shield is a lot older and highly venerated.

Taranaki is the shield holder, and so faces a set number of home-game challenges every season until it eventually loses the shield.

Taranaki was favourite.

The Manawatu supporters – Bucketheads – were in full voice but to no avail.

Their team spent quite a lot of the game on attack, but Taranaki was devastating on the counter. As they say in the biz … in the end, it was a blow-out scoreline.

Food-wise, Bennie and I decided to go for whatever was different from the stuff available at footy matches in Melbourne.

Which was why we ended up with a pie, chips and a Coke …

Why Bennie insisted on swapping seats with his dad.

The Manawatu supporters – the Bucketheads – make a noise and fail to get their team over the line. Or even close to it.

That night, the whole gang – including Grandma Pauline – hit a teppanyaki joint on Devon St, the main drag of New Plymouth.

Otaku was a fine teppanyaki experience – the first for most of our party, and the first Japanese food of any kind for my mum – with all the usual bells and whistles.

With our Japanese chef, Julius from the Philippines, presiding, much fun was had.

Some omelette went into mouths, and some did not; most bowls of fried rice were caught, but some not cleanly; and Pauline slurped miso soup with seaweed and tofu in it.

On our final day, we spent a few hours frolicking – well actually, Bennie frolicked, dad and grandma watched – on the glorious black-sanded beach at the small township of Oakura, just south of New Plymouth.

The cool spring day had a fabulous silvery sheen about it.

Before heading to the airport, we enjoyed lunch in another Devon St joint, a newish place called Joe’s Garage.

It was sort of blokey, but we had a room to ourselves with a big screen, so we could watch the All Blacks make short work of the Pumas in Argentina.

Grandma had the whitebait omelette in a roll, while Bennie and his dad had burgers, which were of the looks small/eats big variety.

The chips were ace.

Why don’t more places do their chips with the spud skins still on?

A pity about the spelling …

Random notes …

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One of the pleasures of 2012 for us has been checking out the Thai-centric blog Krapow.

So passionate are these folks about their tucker that one of them, Andy, has constructed a street stall truck, from which he will be dispensing his tried and tested version of Boat Noodle Soup at the North Melbourne Spring Fling in Errol St on Sunday, October 21.

We hear there’ll be Thai-style Doryaki, too.

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And don’t forget the combined Footscray Food Blog/Consider The Sauce Spring Picnic the following Saturday.

The wonderful poster was created by Ms Baklover’s sister, whose work you can check out here.

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Coming very soon: The New Zealand Adventures of Gumboman and Gumbolad.

Famous Blue Raincoat

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Famous Blue Raincoat, 25 Vernon St, Yarraville. Phone:9391 8520

The Famous Blue Raincoat, which shares the Vernon St strip with Tandoori Flames and Motorino, was one of our semi-regular haunts in our early, pre-CTS days in the west.

I’m not sure why it ceased being so, although preferring to get our grub gratification in non-cafe settings has prolonged that status.

A recent visit for a terrific coffee after an afternoon exploring the west made me think: “Why don’t we come here more often?”

After a momentously fine Sunday lunch, I reckon we may soon be doing just that.

They’re big on music here, with a gig list that features some Very Famous Names.

No live music this lunchtime, but there’s some serious sounds on hand anyway … the classic John Coltrane Quartet seems a bit passionately overbearing for so early in the day, thankfully giving way to Tom Waits, Bonnie Raitt and more rootsy, bluesy stuff.

The Coat does a range of food ranging from breakfasts to wraps, tapas, more substantial fare and a neat kids’ list.

But I’m here specifically to try the regular Sunday roast special – a $12 roast lunch sounds like a very fine thing indeed.

Today it’s pork:

It’s a lot bigger serve than first appears to be the case.

The accompaniments are as expected – three potato segments, parsnip, carrot, broccoli.

And the unexpected – two lovely bits of beetroot.

All are beautifully cooked.

The meat ranges from crusty to lovely and tender, and there’s quite a lot of it. There’s some fat, but it’s easily discarded.

The two pieces of crackling aren’t so much crackly as rock hard – but come good with a good soaking in the flavoursome gravy.

This a sublime lunch at any price, and as good a roast meal as I’ve had.

At $12, it is surely one of Melbourne’s finest dishes.

And I can’t help but compare it with a dish I spotted in the $unday Age while awaiting my fodder …

Is that a parallel universe or what?

Food aside, this place has a warmly welcoming vibe, the back courtyard is as cool and funky as one could wish, and the cakes look to-die-for.

There’s more magic before I depart smiling … just as my perfect cafe latte arrives, the sounds switch to classic late ’30s Duke Ellington, with singer Ivie Anderson and trombonist Lawrence Brown wailing on Rose Of The Rio Grande.

Perfect!

The regular Sunday roast is matched by a more wide-ranging $12 “locals’ night” on Wednesday.

The Famous Blue Raincoat website is here.

Famous Blue Rain Coat on Urbanspoon

Hong Kong Noodle Bar

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Hong Kong Noodle Bar, 306 Main Rd E, St Albans. Phone: 9367 2525

Hong Kong Noodle Bar has a very similar name and look to a very similar establishment in Footscray – could be they’re even related in some way.

We’ve generally found the Footscray version to be of such haphazard service levels that we stay away.

But that’s not the reason we’ve taken so long to check out the one in St Albans.

That has had more to do with more alluring options around the corner in Alfrieda St.

For this lunchtime, though, none of them appeal … and even the banh mi places are all a-jostle.

So in I go … and end up very happy that I have done so.

For this seems like an everyday eats joint of quite some excellence.

The basic vibe is Chinese-style BBQ meats, with the roast beasties hanging in the window, the comforting chopping sound that can elicit pavlovian drool and – at one end of the kitchen – a handsome, large and rotund oven that indicates the roasting is done in-house.

Although double-banger rice or soup noodle plates are not on the menu, I have little trouble in arranging a soup bowl with both soya chicken and BBQ pork.

I love the way the sediments from the roast meats flavours the broth.

I don’t ever remember having this sort of soup bowl with anything other than squiggly, commercial egg noodles. I’m not sure I’d like it if I did.

Same goes with the MSG. Fine by me … for eating out. Does anyone use MSG at home?

There’s a good supply of bok choy.

As for the meats …

The chicken seems to be almost all breast meat, and thus a little on the dry side but blessedly free of bones.

The pork is sinfully rich, fatty and delicious.

It’s a cracking lunch for $8.

Honk Kong Noodle Bar flirts with a few dishes of Thai or Malaysian derivation, but I reckon tried and true is the go here.

Indeed, some of the rice plates I see around me look both fine and big, with bells and whistles – small bowls of soup and fresh chilli slices – that are not always the norm.

I wish we had one in our immediate neighbourhood.

Hong Kong Noodle Bar on Urbanspoon

Salaam Namaste Dosa Hut

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Salaam Namaste Dosa Hut, 604 Barkly St, West Footscray. Phone: 9687 0171

Does a restaurant have any sort of obligation to tell customers what is in their food?

The food for which they are paying and which they are eating?

My persistent inquiries about the seasoning specifics of my rice meal at Dosa Hut are met with smiles, giggles, shrugs and vague mutterings.

It’s all good fun and I’m not even close to chagrined that I fail in my quest.

Bemused, maybe.

But maybe, too, some things are meant to remain unknown.

Dosa Hut should be celebrated widely in the west for being the first eatery to bring dosas and associated goodies into our part of the world.

That seems a long time ago now.

That first incarnation had a dingy shack aspect with a service vibe to match.

A second incarnation – detailed here – took a significant step towards a more formal and professional approach.

Now Dosa Hut has its third incarnation – and it’s another cool step upwards.

There’s branded windows, chic interior decor, a lot more room.

As far as I can tell, the menu remains much the same – though I suspect the range of dishes available of the Indo-Chinese variety has grown.

My simple, plain samosa ($1.95)  is beaut – mildly seasoned, beautifully tender potato, ungreasy pastry exterior.

From the Indo-Chinese list I choose “Schezwan Chicken Fried Rice” ($12.95). 

You might be thinking that’s quite a hefty amount to pay for a glorified Indian take on a familiar Chinese staple in a cheap eats diner.

You would be wrong.

This is a killer dish; a sensation.

Heaps of fluffy rice is riddled with chewy fried chicken chunks, omelette, peas and finely diced green onion and carrot.

It’s all quite dry and very un-oily, though like just about everything in the Indo-Chinese recipe book, it’ll never pass for health food.

The first few mouthfuls indicate spice levels of a benign nature.

That, too, is misleading. This dish has a magnificent slow-burn spiciness that glows yet never really reaches high-intensity levels.

Given the staff’s reluctance to clarify my seasoning queries, I’m only guessing. 

The orange colouring from a mix of turmeric and chilli powder?

The magnificent slow-burn heat from a LOT of white pepper?

It matters not – I love every mouthful.

It’s a big serve, one that should really be shared.

But I go closer to finishing it than I thought I would.

Salaam Namaste Dosa Hut on Urbanspoon

Filming Love To Share

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On the way to Raw Materials in Cowper St, Footscray, to be part of the audience for TV food show Love To Share, a thought strikes.

As someone who recently signed up for a talent agency with a view to broadening my income portfolio through work as an extra, it is this: Has not the television industry – and commercial television, in particular – perpetrated one of the great con jobs?

Instead of happily volunteering their time for the glimpses of glam it provides, shouldn’t audience members for television shows be paid for their time?

During the filming, I put this idea to an experienced TV industry type on the set.

She laughs – and immediately, if anonymously, concedes the point.

After all, myself and all my fellow audience members for this filming are required to sign a release form – just the same as any extra or actor.

Just kidding, really – after all, that horse has well and truly bolted.

Love To Share is a weekly program being screened by the Ten Network. The first episode went to air a few days before the episode of which CTS is to be part is put together.

The show is hosted by 2010 MasterChef competitor Aaron Harvie, who is joined by in-house show chef Darren Robertson, various other presenters and guests.

I’m no fan of so-called free-to-air TV or MasterChef – I reckon that particular show isn’t actually about food. Like so many of its ilk, what it’s about is TV.

So what am I doing here?

Well, it has foodiness elements, it’s being produced in Footscray, it’ll take up an otherwise free morning and I hope to generate a blog story out of the experience.

I’m a little wary, though. I’ve known people from the film and TV industry, and have been in recording studios when albums are being recorded, so I know full well tedium and down time can be and often are part of the deal.

So I’m interested in discovering if being present at the filming is better than enduring the tedium of endless promos and adverts that go with watching such shows at home.

I’m also curious and a little nervous about how the presence of a blogger/journalist brandishing a camera and with lots of pesky questions is going to go down.

Upon being seated at one of the dozen or so tables, audience members are asked to sign their release forms and sign up for the show’s website using the iPads provided.

There is nervous laughter from some of us as it dawns that we are not allowed to take the cool gizmos home.

My table companions are Amber and Jess.

We are also invited to partake of coffee, real champagne or both.

I settle for a nice cafe latte in a cardboard cup.

Before the filming process starts and as we are given ground rules by one of the producers, we are also delivered a bowl of dip, dipping vegetables and herbed and toasted pita bread.

Looking like a very pale apricot taramsalata, it is actually a very fine, tasty and lemon-y white bean dip.

It’s at this point, that I cave … and request a tall glass of bubbles.

The show sees Harvie hosting segments of the show interspersed with three more segments already recorded out and about by others – in the case of this episode, they cover Yarra Valley fish, hill country pork and beetroot.

The set is bright and cheerful “rustic foodiness”, with a cooking area to one side, sofas for interviewing purposes on the other.

I am impressed by Harvie’s ability to sound upbeat and spontaneous, even when has to re-start his opening preamble three times.

The rest of the crew are admirably professional, too.

Between producers of various types, cameramen, catering company staff and many others who may or may not have technical TV biz names, there are a lot of them.

Making a commercial TV show is obviously a very expensive proposition in a high-stakes game.

After the opening comments, the show’s first food comes courtesy of chef Darren, who quickly serves up  a simple meal of steak, some sort of butter sauce and chargrilled cos lettuce.

Sadly, only a single audience members gets to sample it.

Then it’s time for Harvie to interview the guests – today that means singers Mahalia Barnes and Prinnie Stevens.

I’m struggling to hear what’s being discussed, the frequent delays are finding my hands desirous of getting hold of the book in my bag and part of me wishes I was elsewhere. 

I prick up my ears, though, when Barnes tells stories about the cooking prowess of her famous father, who sounds every bit the dab hand in the kitchen that her Thai mother is.

The two singers and Harvie then move across to the kitchen area where, after more delays, they join chef Darren in cooking a soba noodle salad.

By this time, I’ve realised my fears about taking photos are unfounded – I’m far from the only audience member merrily snapping away.

In the end, I’m pretty much going wherever I please – except in front of the many cameras – and talking to whoever I wish, including joining a trio of producer types monitoring the filming on a TV off to the side. 

A crew member who has worked on other, similar shows tells me this is quite unusual – the absence of the usual hard-and-fast rules about phones and cameras and do’s and don’t’s apparently part of the show’s gameplan of being fully integrated in a social media sense and making audience members part of it all.

Makes sense, really, mobile devices, for better or worse, being part of every performance and every part of life these days.

As the soba dish is completed in front of the cameras – huzzah! – each audience member is presented with their own bowl of said salad.

It’s very good – fresh salmon, two kinds of mushroom, two kinds of greens, sesame oil and seeds, seaweed and more, including a hefty whack of ginger.

It’s a treat with my second glass of bubbles.

As we eat, the show’s stars and guests join audience members for a bit more banter.

It’s been an entertaining and enlightening experience.

If you’re interested in being part of the Love To Share audience, email audience@lovetoshare.com.au

The show featuring CTS is scheduled to go to air on Channel 10 on Saturday, October 6, from 4pm.

But as they say in the biz, check your guides.

Bonus: The filming took a tad over three hours and I didn’t incur a ticket for overstaying at my two-hour parking space in Cowper St!

The Plough

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The Plough, 333 Barkly Street, Footscray

There are big changes afoot at this prominently positioned Footscray landmark.

The new operators plan to continue running both the food side of the business and its motel aspect.

My informant was unable to provide me with much by way of details – likely to be pitched somewhere in modern Australian/gastro pub in terms of food; likely to be open for business early-ish 2013.

Extensive refurbishment of the premises appears to be at its starting stages.