Category Archives: Places we like to eat at

Matsu Hashi

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388-390 Queens Parade, Fitzroy North. Phone: 9482 3388

We pay far too much – certainly more than we’ve planned on – for too much food.

This is largely our own fault.

With our wits about us, we may have realised that – of course – banquet menus are priced per person.

But our wits are elsewhere, left somewhere behind us as we rode the Capital City Trail from Flinders St station, alongside the Yarra, past the Collingwood Children’s Farm and Abbotsford Convent and onwards.

Unfortunately, somewhere past Dights Falls the terrible signposting – or, more to the point, total lack of signposts – led us astray, requiring a long, sweaty and boring ride along Heidelberg Rd before we make Queens Parade. Oddly, everyone thinks of this as Clifton Hill yet officially it’s Fitzroy North.

We hungrily check out the available options with some dismay – mostly a whole lot of lookalike cafes and a couple of fish and chip shops.

The we spot it – a Japanese restaurant!

It looks like the real deal, too – sushi clock, handsome wooden sushi boats lined up behind the sushi bar, music ranging from highly synthesised Asian pop to classic, timeless Richard Clayderman orchestral pap.

Whatever happened to Richard Clayderman? I wonder if his music has ever been a fixture of cheap, middle-of-the-road (of course!) Asian restaurants in other parts of the world?

Hindsight will tell us we would’ve been much better of with the standard ($14.80) or deluxe ($18.80) bentos from the lunch menu. Or one of the rice/don bowls – about $10 with bento soup.

But we’re a little addled from our long ride, so much fresh air and sunshine, even if it is a perfect day for a bike ride.

So we go for the chiba banquet at $32. It’s one of four that range up to $60 per person.

We both distinctly recall – Bennie adamantly so – our waitress saying: “One chiba banquet to share?” – and us both nodding eagerly in agreement.

But it’s obvious once our parade of food starts arriving that we’re in for the full whack when it comes time to pay. (There’s no EFTPOS here, by the way, but credit cards are fine.)

This sort of spread at $16 a head would be incredible, surreal, ridiculous – even if a single person portion was shared.

At $32 each, though, it’s less impressive.

It’s a fair price for the quantity, but there’s an unevenness about the flavours and textures that’s disappointing.

The miso soup is outstanding – just the right kind of hot and offering plentiful greens, mushrooms and tofu. To my delight, Bennie is getting pretty hip with chopsticks these days and even slurping up tofu – though the mushies remain a step too far. All in good time!

The sushi rolls are just OK, and disappointingly make prominent use of that dastardly seafood extender stuff. The best thing going here is the non-commercial and very tasty pickled ginger.

The gyoza – two each – are likewise just OK. Maybe this the kind of Japanese food is what’s required for your standard suburban establishment, but we’d like a bit more zing.

And so it goes with the harumaki. The spring rolls are fresh, hot and grease-free, but the filling seems more carrot and far less of the advertised seafood. That’s how they taste, anyway.

The tempura – one each of prawn, pumpkin, zucchini and carrot – is another highlight. It, too, is hot, fresh and unoily.

The serve of beef teriyaki is huge. The beef is tender but tasteless.

We’ve often found at other Japanese places the quickly cooked mess of bean sprouts and other finely sliced vegetables is a real knockout; here it is – like it’s cattle collaborator – bland and even a little on the bitter side.

Being no fan of green tea ice cream I have no idea whether our serves are of in-house derivation or a commercial product. In any case, Bennie happily downs both generous serves.

So, yes, that’s a lot of food – even for $32 each.

Our earlier exertions have whetted our appetites so we effortlessly eat just about everything that is put before us, although beef and side vegetables defeat us.

But we’d not go out of our way to eat again here.

Especially when our western suburbs home patch has the likes of Ebi Fine Foods and Ajitoya doing such grand things when it comes to Japanese food.

So cool – the west has become something of Japanese tucker hotspot!

Refreshed after our lacklustre lunch, we rejoin the Capital City Trail – past Nicholson, Lygon, Royal Parade, the zoo – mostly donwhill – and on to Dynon Rd.

 We make it home without assistance from the Met.

The Matsu Hashi website – including PDF of entire menu – is here.

Matsu Hashi on Urbanspoon

Dragon Express

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28 City Place, Sunshine. Phone: 9312 6968

City Place is on the other side of the tracks from what we generally consider Sunshine when thinking food.

The other side of the tracks, that is, from the likes of Classic Curry, Sunshine Fresh Food Market and Pho Hien Saigon.

Last time we cruised the short span of City Place to see if anything was “happening” it was a case “keep moving right along, folks, nothing to see here”.

But there is a new kid on the block – Dragon Express – the existence of which we have been alerted to by a number of positive reviews at Urbanspoon.

That website’s reviews have become something of an entertaining diversion – not so much the many postings, I hasten to add, of Melbourne’s food bloggers, who mostly try to maintain some sense of balance and even objectivity.

The “user reviews”, on the other hand, are often visceral, emotional outpourings of ordinary customers, many of whom feel hard done by.

Screaming caps are very much the go, along the lines of …

“THE MANAGER FROM HELL!!!!!!”

“EVERYTHING WAS RANCID – AND THAT WAS JUST THE STAFF!”

“DO NOT EAT HERE – WORST FOOD IN THE UNIVERSE!”

OK, I made those ones up – but you get my drift.

As entertaining as such, um, “reviews” can be, it is impossible really to tell the well-meaning and sincere from those with nasty and unfair axes to grind.

The handful of reviews for Dragon Express, by contrast, seem believable and well-judged expressions of delight. They speak of great prices, yummy food and excellent service  – so we are hopeful of a ripping start to our new year of blogging.

We enjoy immensely a ripping start to our new year of blogging at a lovely joint that has been going about seven weeks at the time of our visit.

Dragon Express is ostensibly a Chinese eatery, but like so many such places at the budget end of the market it hedges its bets by offering diversity to its customers via Malasyia with the likes of mee goreng, laksas and nasi goreng.

We are delighted, too, to note two harbingers of good food – white tiles and hand-written signs on the walls announcing various specials.

The service is fantastic and cool water keeps us away from the drinks cabinet and within our tight budget.

Our normal routine would find us heading straight to the laksas and the like but today we take a different approach and order two “chefs specials” – stir-fried green vegetables ($9) and spicy chicken ribs ($11).

The greens – mostly snow peas, bok choy and broccolini – elicit moans of pleasure from both of us, even if our request of garlic sauce finds the high level of oil used has no place to hide. We love every crunchy mouthful so much it is only with some reluctance we turn our attention to the chicken.

We’ve had better chicken ribs but these are still very fine – plentiful, ungreasy, totally moreish but lacking a little in the spice/chilli department.

Given the righteous healthiness of our breakfast, post-brekky endeavours in the garden before the day became too hot and likelihood of delightful austerity in the form of a crunchy Greek salad topped with fetta for dinner, we forgive ourselves the indulgence of our lunch and enjoy every lip-smacking mouthful.

“I could eat that a millions times,” opines Bennie as we depart very happy chappies.

Dragon Express on Urbanspoon

Closing Yarraville’s Ballarat St – what say you?

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I was interested to read in The Age about the plan to close Yarraville’s Ballarat St between Murray and Canterbury streets for up to three months from January.

I’m not sure about this at all! What about parking? What about Anderson St? Does it just get left to get even crazier?

Or will closing Ballarat St effectively close Anderson St to vehicular traffic as well?

The closure is on the block directly outside the Sun, but being intimately familiar with the area and its intense traffic flows, I reckon the following quote is debatable: ”The area to the north (of Anderson Street) outside the Sun Theatre is not a central traffic route.”

The closure of such a small portion of the street with unknown but potentially severe ramifications for the surrounding area seems iffy.

This just doesn’t seem very imaginative – or good value for money.

I’d be happier to consider the complete closure of Ballarat AND Anderson streets – big upsides all round and not much greater downside.

Without doing a head count, I’m pretty sure there are more Anderson St traders than there are on Ballarat St – so why choose the latter over the former?

And I can certainly understand the concerns of the non-Ballarat St trader: “I sympathise with those cafes not getting $50,000 spent on beautification on their doorstep.”

I once exchanged rather angry words with a tour bus driver who was attempting to take his Very Large Vehicle across the train tracks and along Anderson St.

“It’s none of your bloody business,” he shouted at me.

Uh, buddy, I live here – it most certainly IS my business! 🙂

Phong Dinh

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152 Hopkins St, Footscray. Phone: 9077 9098

A couple of previous incarnations at this address – one of them Korean – came and went without us taking them for a whirl.

Going by the good trade they are doing this Monday lunch time, it seems a good bet that Phong Dinh will be around a good deal longer.

It’s a lovely room, cleverly using some of the more upmarket vibe of several of its Viet neighbours yet still playing the role of affordable noodle house, a fact attested to by the menu prices.

The colour scheme is a bit darker than your standard noodle joint, though, and the effect is calming and tranquil.

As well, there’s a semi-alfresco area containing a handful of tables from which observing the street hustle and bustle is no doubt a lot of fun.

My can of soft drink is presented alongside a tumbler packed with ice cubes – always a nice touch.

You’ll find pho here, but the list is a lot broader than that – there’s a heap of interesting noodle and rice dishes.

The “hu tieu mi”, which precedes the restaurant’s name in its signage, denotes a focus on rice and egg noddles, in soup or dry with soup on the side.

Bun thang ($9) is described as Hanoi chicken soup with vermicelli.

From what I’ve been able to discover, it’s a northern dish rather than one specifically associated with Hanoi.

And while there is some chicken – poached, small pieces, some with fiddly bones – it is matched and more in terms of quantity by the traditional ingredients of slices of splendidly eggy omelette that is both yellow and white and Vietnamese pork loaf (cha).

One seemingly knowledgeable source I found says the stock should be a mix of chicken and pork, but this – as far as I can tell – is chicken only, delicious as it is.

The accompanying plate of greenery includes not only the sprout-and-herb combo that comes with pho but also lettuce and cabbage of both white and yellow varieties.

This all adds some handy crunch and colour to a dish that needs it.

It’s a beaut lunch but very mild of flavour.

I usually leave the addition of lemon juice until near the completion of most soup noddle dishes I order; here it goes in early on – along with slices of fresh red chilli – to give it all a bit of a boost.

Still, the lighter touch is a winner for situations in which more meaty options may be a matter of too much of a good thing.

Phong Dinh strikes me as a very handy addition to the range of Footscray Vietnamese eateries.

You can Ms Baklover’s review at Footscray Food Blog here.

Phong Dinh on Urbanspoon

More meals on wheels

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We are way too early for picking up Bennie’s mum from the airport.

Chronic earliness is a Weir family trait, but this is much more than a sometimes unhealthy obsession with punctuality or a matter of 10, 20 or even 30 minutes.

It’s a bungle – I got the time wrong, so we left home an hour before we had originally planned.

So after going around and around a few times in the endless dance of avoiding extortionate airport parking fees, we embrace the moment, relax and head up the highway to Sunbury a ways just for a look-see.

Just past the roundabout we come across what appears to be a new and improved parking spot for those watching the planes go by – well, it seems more organised than the last time we were hereabouts.

The wind today has contrived to have planes departing in flight paths that take them right above the parking spot.

So close you feel like you can reach up and pick them out of the sky.

Whoosh!

Of equal interest to us, though, is the magnificent soft-serve ice cream vehicle and one of its slightly smaller siblings.

Interestingly, both are flying flags of Australia and Turkey.

We leave the road test for another day, upon which we will doubtless find out exactly what constitutes “soft-serve gelati” and whether, indeed, it is any different from your standard soft-serve fare usually heralded by the chiming muzak of Greensleeves arriving in our neighbourhood.

We dig the hell out of the artwork and signage on both vans, though.

Note, for instance, the image of Pinocchio getting ready to tuck into a hot dog!

Consider The Sauce Top 10, 2011

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Everyone loves lists!

We love lists!

Our Top 10 for 2011 should not be taken to be in any way definitive.

If we did it again next week, the results would quite likely be quite different.

Nor does it necessarily include our favourite and/or regular eating houses, or even our most memorable meals for the year.

It’s just 10 things that caught our fancy and made our tastebuds sing for one reason or another.

The most shocking about our list is that there is no overlap at all with the equivalent list drawn up by the restaurant critic of The Age. Poor thing – how did she ever miss all this Good Stuff?

What are your highlights?

In no particular order …

Barkley Johnson antipasto platter

We could get this divine offering tailormade if we so wished, but we prefer to leave it up to the staff. That way we may get marinated pumpkin, which Bennie likes but dad doesn’t, but we also get the marinated sardines (as above) – a surprise that delighted. But some things are standard – always a very good dip, three or so incredible cured meats, several different kinds of olive, marinated vegetables, a stuffed vine leaf and more. Always with just the right amount of bread. As a light/medium meal for two, it’s brilliant at $21.

La Morenita new sandwiches

We love ’em all and the extra variety they add to one of our fave haunts – especially the the chacarero ($5) of steak, cheese, tomato, mayo, greens beans and hot green chilli.

Heather Dell coconut tart and jam slice

Mmmmm … classic and sensational old-school sweeties.

Classic Curry gol gappe

Despite our passionate liking for Indian snack food, we’d never come across these before trying them at Classic Curry in Sunshine, so have no way of knowing how good they are by comparison. But we love the fun of them and the tamarind tanginess.

Cafe Advieh baklava

We like your standard baklava, too, but this is different and better – rustic, chunky, fragrant with spices, delicious. They do excellent salads and dips, too.

Hyderabad Inn dosas

Most of all we’re grateful the dosa experience is now easily available in the west, and we’re happy to frequent any of the places that sell them and similar food. But Hyderabad Inn remains our choice for quality and diversity of combo deals and the like.

Broadmeadows Station Kebab House lamb shank soup

We have yet to make the trek to Broadmeadows so Bennie can have a crack at this ambrosia. When we do, he’ll love it in a slurping, joyous kind of way – guaranteed!

Yoyo’s Milkbar feijoa lollies

Where have these been all our lives? We love the pineapple chunks, too!

Pace Biscuits

Leo is our go-to man for divine and affordable choc-covered cookies, cookies in general and nougat.

Affordable bananas

Now they’re going for well under $2 a kilogram, the nightmare months of insane prices of well above $10 are starting to fade. Yay!

Kebab Shops In Melbourne – An Architectural Survey

Funky, fantastic Melbourne ethnic food finally gets the sort of academic scrutiny it deserves.

Africa Taste

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124 Victoria St, Seddon. Phone: 9687 0560

It’s something of a shock to realise how long it’s been since we went African.

We’ve been pleasantly distracted – Indian, Asian, kebabs and all sorts of other stuff.

Nor have we got around to enjoying Africa taste and blogging on it, despite the fact we were regulars even before CTS lumbered into their cyber air.

So tonight’s the night.

The place has undergone some natty renovations. The kitchen has been moved further to the rear of the building. There’s a bigger counter area and more room for hungry folks, though Africa taste remains comfy rather than roomy.

Sadly, it seems the days of us waltzing up any old time we like and grabbing a table are gone.

Even on this Monday night we are lucky to grab an unbooked early table.

We presume this is to do with the booking of two separate birthday groups, but later learn this is pretty much a standard situation on any night of the week.

It seems bookings are the go here now, not that we resent any success Africa taste has earned.

We love the food, the points of difference from Footscray’s African eateries and the fact it’s closer to our home base. The relaxed charm seems to have faded away a little, but we can live with that.

Our standard order on most of many previous visits has been chicken or lamb tibes and the Africa Taste salad – a magnificent jumble of leaves, tomato, cucumber, onion and crunchy spiced pita bits.

Tonight, at dad’s insistence, we venture further afield.

We’ve been a bit wary of some menu items previously, fearing an uncomfortable level of stodginess.

We are delighted to proven so wrong by the  Genfo African Fufu (Gnocchi, $10.95).

The gnocchi of toasted barley flour are plain yet delicious. Some of them have a little crunch, though there is little or none of the chilli mentioned on the menu. Instead there is a rich brown gravy and a big dab of cream.

It’s much more filling than it looks, and we are glad we went without the $5 option of extras such as chicken, lamb or fish.

Bennie, extremely fishily ambivalent as he is, is somewhat unimpressed by the inclusion of Spicy Fish Tibes ($13.50) in our order.

But even he, injera in hand, likes the viscous and spinach-infused gravy that is very garlicky and, like the gnocchi, lacking much of a spice bite despite the menu description and the clearly visible red flecks.

His dad loves the many and generous chunks of butterfish that are tender and mild of flavour.

It’s a fine meal and a bargain at $24.45.

And it’s swell knowing there are still several dishes on the menu that await exploration by us.

But we know now that future visits will require a little more premeditation than has been our impromptu habit.

African Taste on Urbanspoon

Mishra’s Kitchen

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A more recent review can be found here.

Mishra’s Kitchen, 18 Wembley Ave, Yarraville. Phone: 9314 3336

As we approach the Wembley St shopping trip that has previously left us untroubled in an way, we have contingency plans.

After all, the basis for our dinner – to be shared by Kenny, Bennie and neighbour Rob – is based solely upon my spotting a week earlier what purports to be an Indian restaurant in what is a plain old sandwich shop by day.

Our hopes are not particularly high.

Our downbeat wariness is given a swift kick in the bottom as soon as we enter the door.

Transformation!

This is indeed an Indian restaurant – albeit a humble one that doesn’t try to hide its daytime non-Cinders gig.

More importantly, the welcome from the eager staff is wonderful.

So much so that as we are nutting out the menu and ordering, and it becomes clear that Rob has less experience with tandoori oven rituals than us, I ask if our mate can witness up close and personal the making of our naan order.

The chef – Mr Mishra himself – obliges by not only explaining the whole process to Rob and Bennie but also by giving Rob crack at making his own naan.

Marvellous!

To keep the costs down, we go without starters or snacks and soft drinks, staying with the water. In doing so, we have what I suspect is much more like your average Indian family meal than an outing replete with samosas and the like.

We do good, ordering bhoona chicken (“in medium spices and pot-roasted with ginger and tomatoes”, $11), jhinga Madras (“South Indian spicy prawns curry with mustard seeds and coconut milk”, $14) and mixed vegetables ($9), joined by plain rice ($3), plain naan ($2) and tandoori roti ($2).

Mixed vegetables and bhoona chicken.

Jhinga Madras.

What a wonderful feast we have, with a marvellous combo of varying colours, textures and spice levels.

The difference between our most recent and rather unhappy experience in taking our Indian food habit slightly upmarket and this lovely dinner in a restaurant a mere three weeks old is stark.

The vegetables come in a mild, creamy sauce (cashews, maybe?) and include mushrooms, peas, cauliflower, green beans, fried onion strands and potato.

For Rob and I, this is our pick of the night, with the individual vegetables cooked through but holding their shapes and flavours. Lots of mushies!

About four medium-size prawns for each of us come in a sharper sauce that has the advertised mustard seeds and a tantalising whiff of a spice more exotic than usual that defies my analysis – despite asking the chef the dish’s particulars. That’s how it goes in Indian eateries sometimes!

Bennie loves the chicken, but to me it is merely a good chicken curry.

Taken as whole, and with two fine breads as accessories, our meal is an outright winner.

So is the cost – a mere $41, which is both outstanding and ridiculous.

What a find this place is.

How happy the immediate neighbours – not blessed with an excess of eating out or even takeaweay options – must be.

And how emblematic of the west, in an excellent way, it is that Mishra’s Kitchen joins the likes of Cafe Centro and At 43 in making do and doing great with what is at hand, even if that means making a premises undertake different duties by day and by night.

AND we got a parking spot right outside.

I reckon that’s quite enough, thank you very much, of newspaper stories lauding the livability of Melbourne’s west and other such like preposterous notions.

Hrrrumpf!

Mishra's Kitchen on Urbanspoon

It’s disgusting – Highpoint replies

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As Caron points out below, there will be many who write this off as “typical corporate gobbledygook”, but I appreciate the reply nonetheless. Kenny to tour Highpoint next week and ask even more pesky questions! Some research of shopping malls and their history is called for!

This is a reply to my letter to Highpoint, which you can read here.

Dear Mr Weir

Thank you for taking the time to raise your concerns with respect to recycling the plastic food utensils at Highpoint Shopping Centre. One of the challenges we have with your observations is that these products are currently deemed non recyclable once they come in to contact with cooked foods. This is the same for cardboard and the polystyrene food boxes.

GPT and Transpacific, whom are our waste service provider and constantly looking at viable ways to improve our waste streams and to ensure we recycle as much as possible. GPT Highpoint currently recycles between 40-50 % of the total waste from our shopping centre via the following waste streams:

1. Cardboard

2. Polystyrene

3. Plastic bags

4. Light globes

5. Used cooking oil

6. Wooden pallets

7. Coat Hangers.

A large proportion of our development work is also underpinned with sound sustainability principles with the majority of the demolition materially being recycled. There are also very strong sustainability initiatives being installed as part of the development of Highpoint

You may or may not know that GPT are currently one of the leaders in the Dow Jones Sustainability Index (DJSI) and has been externally recognised many times for it’s approach to sustainability. As a business we are constantly looking at new technologies as they come to market as well as investing in many initiatives to improve the communities we live in and to minimise our impact on our environment and resources.

We would be more than happy to take you through some of our other initiatives such as our eco foot print calculator used when our tenants build shops and the work we do with several key community partners which may be of interest to you. Or we are more than happy to share with you the key sustainability initiatives that are being implemented as part of our development.

Should you wish to discuss your concern in more detail or want to gain further insights in how GPT and Highpoint shopping centre are working towards our sustainability objectives, we would be only to willing to offer the time to do so. To that end, please do not hesitate to contact me directly on 0402 147 807 if I can be of any further assistance.

Yours sincerely

Scott Crellin

Centre Manager

Highpoint Shopping Centre

The GPT Group

Taco Truck

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Phone: 9023 0888

Taco Truck, its snaggy cousin, Le Sausage, and other such recent phenomena may have mobility on their side, but such things have been around forever, of course – Mr Whippy had wheels, too, y’know!

Besides them, there are the ubiquitous kebab trucks, pie carts of yore, icecream/soft drink vans wherever and whenever there is a public gathering, the famous and revered Footscray Station doughnut operation and many more.

Still, having missed the Taco Truck’s visit to Newport in mid-November, and knowing its visits to anywhere in our vicinity are somewhat rare, I am keen to grab the opportunity in Essendon, corner of Primrose and Albion streets to be precise.

I pull up and park a few minutes after the advertised open time of noon to find the Taco Truck crew still doing their prep chores.

Already a handful of people have gathered for their taco hit.

In the time I am having my lunch and taking photos, a lot of people have come, eaten and gone.

Whatever its flaws – there’s a bit of griping about the enterprise’s unreliability, waiting times, running out early and so on at its Facebook page – its apparent the social media/eating connection is a winner. 

The Taco Truck sells three kinds of taco – chicken, potato and fish – for $6 a pop.

I do as I’m sure just about all their customers do and order the combo of two tacos and corn chips for $12. A bottle of mandarin Jarritos pushes the price of my lunch out to $16.

This is a pleasingly slick and smooth operation – or at least it is today – and my meal is ready within just a few minutes.

The corn chips are quite distinctive. They seem a little bit cakier than your usual corn chips, but are no less crunchy. Very lightly salted, they are very extremely yummy. There’s simply not enough of them.

My potato taco, with its hard shell and topped with sour cream, a semi-bitter salsa verde and crisp chopped cabbage, looks like it’ll be a nightmare to eat.

It is not.

In fact, it holds together really, really well. The shell remains crunchy throughout yet does not shatter in the time-honoured taco fashion.

The potato filling is beaut and the whole thing is ace.

The fish taco comes in a soft shell. The same bits and pieces accompany, along with some creamy mayo.

This is simply incredible!

The fish – rockling I am told – is firm, juicy and flavoursome. The batter is not crisp, yet is just right, too, holding to the fish until the last delicious mouthful.

This could be the best taco I’ve ever eaten.

But I’m still hungry.

Look, I know a feed of top-class fish and chips will cost about the same these days, but in that case you’ll almost always get a ton of chips to fill you up – as opposed to the paltry handful of corn chips I receive from the Taco Truck.

And given that customers have to make do without tables and chairs, it’s a little alarming knowing that with a decent head of appetite up I could eat TWO of the combo deals – and that would push the price of a meal out to $24 and somewhat beyond the limits of cheap eats, or at least those of fast food.

Next time, we’ll make sure we take a bottle of water, to avoid the soft-drink trap, and order the combo with an extra taco for $6.

That’d be $18 for a light meal.

Still, there’s no doubting the quality of the tacos this mob is turning out.

Taco Truck on Urbanspoon

Al-alamy

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Al-alamy, 51 Waterfield St, Coburg. Phone: 9355 8866

Since making  a mental note of this intriguing, fantastic joint while checking out the adjoining Wang Wang Dumpling, a fair bit of time has elapsed, during which we’ve ascertained that Al-Alamy is something of a magic foodie hotspot.

And not just for those, bloggers and more, who love to blather on about food in the cyber world, either.

In the hour or so I am in-house for a Monday lunch, an endless stream of savvy regulars comes and goes – young mums with tots, workers in suits and shorts, grandparents with tots, larger family groups, singles such as my self, content to hunker down with their chosen lunches and a newspaper/magazine/book.

There are a number of reasons for the intense popularity of Al-Alamy.

The prices, for starters.

A plain zaatar pizza costs $1.50, dressed with onion and tomato $2.50.

The rest of the usual lineup of pies and pizzas range from $2.50 up to $4.

For about the same price, you can have one of the saj pizzas, in which saj bread is stuffed with fillings and then draped over a spherical heating plate. Different!

The dips platters cost $7.

Outside of the pay-if-you-want Lentil As Anything outlets, could be this is the cheapest of cheap eats in Melbourne.

But that, of course, would mean nowt if the food wasn’t as spectacular.

It is, well based on my magnificent foul meddammes ($7) anyway!

This perfect little spread is cheap, healthy and likely to set a template in our house for lazy don’t-feel-like-cooking summer days – vinegary pickles, olives, pita bread, dips/foul, what could be better?

The plate of pickled cucumbers slices and pink turnip, beautifully fresh tomato chunks and wrinkled, chewy olives is the perfect foil for its lunch companions.

It might be thought all the zing and tang would come from them, with the beans playing straight man, but that’s not the case. Yes, the beans (and a few chick peas) have some of the pasty blandness I expect and desire, but there’s an undertow of lemon in there, too.

What an incredible feed!

A few tables over, I see a couple of blokes tucking into a spread that has the same bits and pieces as mine, but with awarma (scrambled eggs with minced meat, $8.50) instead – and that looks so fine, as well.

My cafe latte is hot, strong, sensational and another bargain at $2.50.

Al-Alamy is one of the enlightened, sensible places that will feed you and sell you stuff to feed you and yours at home. Think Mediterranean Wholesalers, La Morenita or Little Saigon Market.

So obvious on one level, such genius on another – and a potent alternative to the supermarket for shopping, restaurant for eating out syndrome.

It’s been open for about five years, but feels a lot more homely and lived in than that – in a positive way!

I only wish it was closer to home – the traffic hereabouts is a mess just about all the time, and on my way across town I made the killer mistake of joining Sydney Rd WAY too early in the piece.

On the way home I do better by a mixture of Bell St, Moreland Rd and Pasco Vale Rd.

Before departing Al-Alamy, I buy some eggplant and beetroot dips to go, pita bread and half a dozen pieces of a wonderful sweetie that is part marshmellow, part nougat, each piece studded with a piece of Turkish delight.

I truly love this place – how can I not when it’s an establishment that has a head-scarfed female staff member placing my lunch on my table with a cheerful, “There you go, mate!”

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Philippine Fiesta

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Melbourne Showgrounds Grand Pavilion

Having missed the previous year’s Philippine Fiesta through illness, and having only heard about this year’s bash the previous night, and having somewhat lethargically got myself out of the house and into the rain, it’s a pleasure to be striding towards the showground’s Grand Pavilion, where – happily – the entire proceedings are taking place.

My pace picks up as I hear the music and inhale the tantalising aromas caressing my nostrils.

Inside, the entire pavilion is hazy with smoke from barbecues.

Sweetness!

Who needs dry ice?

The fiesta has been going a good few hours already, will continue quite late into the night and on into the following day, but there is a good size crowd on hand already.

There’s all the commercial stallholders you would expect – travel, insurance, immigration services, real estate and more.

But your blogger, of course, heads straight to the food section.

It’s not as big as I expect, but more than big enough, with all the stalls – maybe about 10 in all – all doing a roaring trade.

Except the Spanish paella folk, who seem to be suffering from attention deficit disorder. Such a shame, as their goodies look the goods.

As if almost in an unintended rebuff to them, I start my afternoon’s eating with a serve of paella and chargrilled chicken from one of the Filipino stalls for $10.

The rice is good, the chicken better – chargrilled to a crispy outer and juicy as can be, although pretty much unseasoned.

All the tables adjacent the food area are packed, so I make do with some plastic storage containers out the back of the coffee caravan set-up. Despite its deliciousness, I leave much of the chook uneaten in the knowledge I’m up for some serious grazing.

By far the most popular food item are the barbecue skewers – there are at least four places selling them.

I grab a pork number for $4 and feel a bit shattered.

It looks insanely delicious, but it’s SO fatty. In this sort of context, such a thing would not ordinarily disturb me. But in this case, the fattiness is as much a textural thing as it is flavour or health related. That I don’t like pork belly – at all – may give you some idea of my dismay.

I see people all around me happily consuming skewers – pork, chicken and beef – that appear to be meatiness defined in a way mine is not.

Oh well!

It’s time for time out from food, it’s time to take in some of the more cultural aspects of the fiesta.

At the entertainment stage, I quickly surmise that it’s mandatory for female Filipino pop singers to wear dangerously elongated high heels.

Gwen Zamora (pictured above) sings two songs, the first pleasingly close to the sunshine pop so close to my heart.

However, as the entrants in the Miss Philippine Fiesta of Victoria and Charity Quests and the Mrs Philippine Fiesta of Victoria and Charity Quests strut their stuff, I quickly learn that vertigo high heels are pretty much the all-round go.

Except, maybe, for the wrestlers, none of whom appear to be Filipino, be they male or female.

High heels may be part of their private lives, but they put on a good show anyway.

Even a sport fan and pop culture creature such as myself normally finds “wrestling” of only the most passing interest.

But it’s surprising how visceral, loud and – yes – violent it seems when you’re standing a few feet away.

More food!

I order a serve of callos.

It’s only when the deal is done that I fully realise the contents of what I am about to consume.

Thus this, of all places, becomes the first time EVER I have tried tripe.

I don’t like the tripe; I don’t really dislike it, either.

But a lifetime of wariness is a big hurdle.

I push it all to one side and enjoy the remaining stew of  pork, chorizo, greens beans, peas and chick peas.

I have room and money for one last hurrah – churros!

These are much less chewy and of much less substance than I am familiar with.

So light, so very evil and so very delicious with the chocolate dipping sauce – and truly perfect with a brew from the Three Beans Coffee folk.

It’s my best coffee for the week by a mile – bravo!

I have a ball at the Philippine Fiesta.

But I am by now accepting of the fact there is something of a disconnect between me, my tastes and Filipino food. There are numerous dark, lusty and mysterious dishes at the food booths that I don’t even consider.

I suspect that at a similar event hosted by the Indian community, just for instance, I would not feel a similar distance.

But that’s cool, too!

Flemington Kebab House

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301 Racecourse Rd, Flemington. Phone: 9376 2767

This Flemington institution didn’t get a write-up in the whiz-bang new book on Melbourne kebab shops, but it certainly would’ve been a worthy inclusion.

It’s never been at the top-tier of our choices for such food, as there are options closer to home.

As well,  the last time Bennie stuck our noses in the door the prices had crept up, and the previous dad-only visit had left me feeling a little shortchanged in terms of quantity.

So it is with much interest and a little wariness that I enter for a midweek dinner.

The place has had some simple renovations done. It’s homely. Tiles, photos of Turkey – the pics tug at my heart. From what I’ve gathered over the years, Turkey is right at that the top of the list of countries worth visiting for foodie reasons as well as friendly people and drop-dead gorgeous scenery.

As my dinner ritual unfolds, I relax in the knowledge that the previous disappointment can be written of as little more than a blip.

This kebab joint is at the top of its game and my meal is excellent.

A kebab wrap will cost you $9.50 here.

Meal platters range from non-meat for $13 up to mixed grill for $21.

My spread of lamb from the spit, two salads, two dips, rice and bread clocks in at $15.50.

There’s only one size, which is a bit of a blow – my plate could feed dad AND son.

The meat is tender, perhaps not crusty and crunchy enough, but light on the fattiness.

The chilli dip is of a pleasant spiciness, fine and fresh and tangy, and goes fantastic dab by dab with the meat.

The babaghanous lacks the smokiness that tends to come with coarser versions, but its smoothness is full of lemony, garlicky tang.

The rice is good, the salad of lettuce, cabbage, carrot and so on nice and crisp.

The other salad – of red capsicum, leaves, olives and even a couple of cubes of fetta cheese – seems a little excess to requirements.

I envy Flemington residents having this place ready as a groovy go-to option to the many Asian eateries surrounding it.

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Cafe Noodle House

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Level 1, Building M, Victoria University Footscray Park Campus. Phone: 9919 4339

It’s a little odd to be navigating the corridors and stairways of Victoria University – a mere day after doing much the same at Melbourne University while tracking down a very cool book on Melbourne’s kebab shops.

Your blogger bypassed tertiary education entirely, heading straight from high school to newspapering, and have never for an instant regretted doing so.

Weirdly enough, I did spend a lot of time on the campus of my hometown university while still at school. The reason was simple – that’s where a better class of rock ‘n’ roll, and even blues and folk music, was to be found and heard.

Much, much more recently, Bennie’s swimming lessons have seen Victoria University become part of the family routine, such regular visits alerting us to the existence of Cafe Noodle House.

It’s one of several food outlets scattered around the campus, and like some of its competitors it takes something of a jack-of-all-trades approach.

So while it’s ostensibly an Asian affair, it stocks and sells sandwiches, muffins, wraps and the like.

The bain marie offerings hold little appeal, although the beef curry I observe being served to a fellow customer looks worth a try.

I focus my eyes and appetite on the photographs of the made-to-order soup, noodle and rice dishes displayed behind the servery.

They all seem to be a buck or so below the prices demanded out in the real world, and cover all the usual bases – mee goreng, hokkien mee noddles, Hainan chicken rice and so on.

There are a few surprises, though, and it’s one of them that becomes my lunch.

Hue spicy beef noodle soup ($8.50), sadly, comes in a disposable plastic bowl.

It’s good without being sensational – pretty much par for the course when compared to other versions I have had of this dish in other places.

It’s got a nice chilly kick.

The very plentiful slices of fat-on beef are both chewy and tender.

Texture is added to the plump, white round noodles by lots of lettuce, which gets that cool wilted thing going as my meal progresses, and a handful of bean sprouts likewise stewing away under the noodles.

Maybe you’d not want go out of your way to eat here, but if in the vicinity it’s worth a go.

40 Melbourne kebab shops in 500 pages? Book of the year!

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Derham Groves is a man after my own heart – he’s passionate about things.

Quite a few things, actually.

Let’s see – architecture, on which he lectures/teaches at the University of Melbourne; rabid Geelong Football Club fan; really big on crime literature, with a special and obsessive penchant for Sherlock Holmes. And that’s just for starters.

But I’ve wandered on to the surprisingly expansive and unfamiliar surrounds of the university campus to talk with him about his latest “baby” – a 500-page book concerned solely with an in-depth survey of 40 Melbourne kebab joints.

After a few wrongs turns and helpful guidance along the way, I meet Derham outside University House, in to which we scuttle for a couple of outstanding coffees.

As we sup, I hear the fascinating story of how Kebab Shops In Melbourne – An Architectural Survey came about.

In 2010, Derham visited Iran for three weeks, courtesy of a travel grant from the Iran Heritage Foundation, to look at Iranian brickwork.

As he moved around the country, he needed to eat – as you do – so found himself in many kebab establishments.

Quite apart from the no-doubt delicious food of which he partook in such places, he often found himself befriended, offered food to share and otherwise engaged by the locals.

All this got him thinking … about kebab shops, their role in the community.

And it got him thinking, too, about their equivalents back in Melbourne.

Back home, he initiated a project in which the 90 students in his Popular Architecture and Design course – in teams of two – dispersed across the city, with each team given the task of profiling a kebab shop.

The result is Kebab Shops In Melbourne – An Architectural Survey.

It’s a beaut read, by turns entertaining, revealing and – for the likes of your blogger – absolutely riveting.

Because of the quick turnaround time, the students’ work is unedited and as presented.

Not only do their individual voices comes through loud and clear, but so, too, do those of the small business folk and families who run the kebab places – which in Melbourne, as in Iran, are a ubiquitous yet rarely studied or even appreciated beyond the sometimes urgent needs of a quick, cheap and delicious feed.

This came about because the students were given marching orders that not only covered topics to be expected of an architectural project – fittings, furniture, signage and so on – but also interviews with the operators.

As a celebration of the every day, the book closely mirrors the evolving ethos of Consider The Sauce.

So, too, does the journey undertaken by the students.

Derham tells me that 70 per cent of the students on the course are Chinese. How wonderful and enriching, then, that they ventured out of whatever CBD enclaves, peer groups and noodle shops they ordinarily frequent to meet another vital part of Melbourne’s make-up.

Of course, unlike in Iran, Melbourne’s kebab shops are dominated by families of Turkish and Greek heritage, but that didn’t stop Derham’s students from taking to their tasks with relish – and enjoying some magnificent food along the way.

Included among the 40 kebab shops is long-time Consider The Sauce favourite Footscray Best Kebab House.

Crazy Kebabs in Mount Alexander Rd gets a guernsey, too, but other than that the books finds Brunswick, Sydney Rd, Melbourne’s CBD and Fitzroy heavily represented.

Derham’s students may not have become life-long kebab fans and may duly recall their study sojourn in Melbourne as merely a step on their life journeys, but he tells me that nevertheless when each of them was presented with a copy of the book, it was notable that many of them carried them clasped to their chests, front cover out and clearly visible.

Heck, I’d be a bit proud of such an effort, too!

Kebab Shops In Melbourne – An Architectural Survey is published by the Custom Book Centre of Melbourne University and is available here or from the university’s book shop.

As an academic exercise, it could be argued that the work of Kebab Shops In Melbourne – An Architectural Survey has already been done.

Derham harbours a suspicion, however, that it could go “feral” and become a cult classic.

Me?

I think it should be a bestseller.

A wrap on Derham’s Iran trip – including pics of particularly succulent looking kebabs – can be found here.

Thanks to Derham and his students for letting me republish here a couple of the kebab shop surveys.

 

Kasim’s Indian Cafe, Sirens

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Kasim’s Indian Cafe, 44 Mason St, Newport. Phone, 9399 483

Sirens,  Beach Pavilion Esplanade, Williamstown. Phone: 9397 7811

It takes some cajoling to get Bennie off the sofa and away from the TV and PlayStation this Friday night.

In the end, we experience a role reversal – with Bennie energised by the magic combination of beach + boy and his dad wanting to head for home.

To get things rolling, though, I make a concession – instead of heading for the wilds of Deer Park or Taylors Lakes, we stick closer to home, intent on checking out a typical suburban Indian eatery, the windows of which we’ve peered through a number of times but never previously entered.

We’re interested in exploring the theory that by mostly limiting ourselves to the cheaper end of the Indian spectrum – at, say, Consider The Sauce favourites such as Classic Curry in Sunshine – we are depriving ourselves of an occasional repast that is richer, sexier and more celebratory.

So it is with metaphorically loosened wallets that we hit the Willy road.

Our straightahead Indian meal is indeed more expensive than our usual – but not by a lot.

We’re hungry and waste no time in ordering lamb bhuna gosht ($13), aloo gobi ($11.50), plain nan ($2.90) and rice ($4), and “kuchumber salad spicy” ($4).

We suspect Kasim’s, with its plain but nice enough dining room, does most of its trade in takeaway. We’re the only customers, but as we are paying and leaving a young couple saunters in followed by a Muslim family comprising mum, dad, two daughters with iPads and son with PSP/DS.

We hope they have a better time of it than we do.

Our meal is edible.

We eat it.

But – oh dear – it’s truly spectacular in its mediocrity.

The salad – a mix of finely diced tomato, lettuce, cucumber and carrot – is not in the least bit spicy.

The aloo gobi seems like leftovers.

The bhuna gosht meat is tender, has textural variety courtesy of green capsicum and onion, and is the best thing going in our meal.

The nan is very average for the price.

The final bill of just a touch over $40 is fine for two mains, three side dishes and two cans of soft drink, but our wallet-loosening experiment is a failure.

Did we order the wrong dishes? Any Kasim’s regulars out there?

It’s still early in the night and Bennie is happy enough to humour his father’s interest in sweeties and coffee/hot chocolate.

The esplanade/beach precinct of Williamstown used to play a major role in our outings, one that has faded.

Mind you, we’ve never taken the plunge by getting on the fang at Siren’s, daunted by the high prices and the fear its fare will tainted by the same fodder indifference that infects nearby Nelson Parade.

It’s all very well to say that as food bloggers we should keep open minds and chance our arms on occasion, but as full-fare payers we are tugged, too, in the other direction, towards caution and conservatism.

Tonight, the place is close to packed and very busy. But still, we fear that has more to do with the superb beachside location than anything coming out of the kitchen.

What we have done many, many pleasant times is hit Sirens for coffee and Greek-style biscotti – and that’s just what we do tonight.

It turns out to be a thrilling half-hour or so.

The proximity of beach and sand brings Bennie alive.

There’s a classic Willy sunset on hand, thunder clouds and lightning in the other direction, and a rainbow between them.

The floor manager is bemused by our insistence on doing coffee imbibing out on the deck because everything is sopping wet.

That’s cool, mate, we’ll stand.

The choc-dipped bikkie is less impressive than we recall from previous visits; the shortbread number much better; our hot drinks are very good.

As dad calls stumps on the outing, Bennie shouts from water’s edge: “I want to stay here!”

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bowlz @ the deck revisited

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

The previous dad-only visit to the Yarraville-Footscray Bowling Club for a mid-week lunch in more or less deserted premises had been an enjoyable affair.

But despite comments to the contrary, truth is it would be hard-pressed to win return visits.

That’s all changed with the coincidence that the club shares a carpark with the McIvor Reserve venue for Bennie’s cricket practice, also just off Francis St.

After a hard day of commuting, school ‘n’ work AND cricket practice, what could be better for a couple of blokes than a simple, leisurely amble from sports field to bowls clubhouse?

Not much, as it turns out.

Tonight the club seems a little more lived-in, with tables occupied here and there and more customers arriving as we wait for our meals then eat them.

Much of the bistro food seems pitched, priced and presented somewhere between our local pub and its near-neighbour, Cafe Fidama.

In the case of our two main meals, that is to prove an ideal combination of wallet damage that’s bearable and food that is a notch above your average budget pub fodder.

But a keen appetite is upon us so we splurge on a bowl of almost-instant-gratification chips ($6).

They’re good, fresh, hot, unsoggy, well-salted and completely unnecessary – but what the hey!

Bennie’s steak sandwich is a sight to behold – a meal for a man, or a growing 10-year-old who loves a challenge.

Stuffed into a long ciabatta-style row are steak, egg, tomato, bacon, caramelised onions and some greenery.

He loves it, leaving just there merest stub of bread.

He tells me to describe it as “AWSM”.

The accompanying spud wedges may be par for the coarse (sic), but they’re ridiculous and horribly seasoned with some dodgy spice mix. Wedges should be banned, their use-by date being some time last century.

Maybe it’s possible to request the fine chips instead of wedges on the dishes that include them.

Happily, the sandwich is so big it’s all that’s required and keenly priced ($17.90), too.

My roast chicken with vegetables and gravy ($16.90) hits the mark just fine as well.

The half-chook is tasty, although personal preference would’ve lent it a slightly more browned appearance and texture. It’s tender, too, with the inevitable dryness in the breast meat more than taken care of by the rich, dark gravy.

The roast spuds are good, the carrots and parsnips a little tough at the core, and the pumpkin gag material – for me anyway!

Our meal is beaut, the convenience of the club’s post-cricket practice location matched by casual pub-style tucker a nicely judged step up in refinement from bar menu fare and well worth the asking price.

eat.drink.picnic … food bloggers gather

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Edinburgh Gardens, North Fitzroy

The first Consider The Sauce post was hoisted into the public eye on August 23, 2010, but in some ways a more significant event was attendance at the Food Bloggers’ Melbourne ‘Mad Hatter’ Spring Picnic in Studley Park in early October the same year.

It was there that I first met some of the cool and kooky customers who constitute a fairly decent chuck of the Melbourne food blogger community.

Since then, and more than 160 posts later, Consider The Sauce and the dad-and-son team at its helm have grown and evolved.

Through trial and error and the frequent visiting of, and dropping of comments on, many other blogs we’ve found what kind of endeavour we wants ours to be – what we want to do, what we don’t want to do and perhaps even areas to be explored that other bloggers have not touched upon.

In that time, too, quite a few other blogs have started up, so we no longer feel so much the new boys on the block – less prep and more, say, grade 2!

In any case, just a tick over a year later it is a pleasure to rock up to another blogger picnic to see what’s cooking.

Really, though, the points of comparison between the two events are hard to find.

As far as I can tell, I am the only attendee at both picnics.

This is a much smaller and more cosy event, but no less enjoyable for that.

The food accent is firmly vegan/vegetarian.

Apart from my own courgette fritters, straight out of Claudia Roden’s Arabesque,  there’s a variety of dips and salads, as well as two kinds of intensely chocolatey fudge/brownie concoctions that become more and more like chocolate sauce as the heat and sun take their toll.

I’m grateful to Claire from Melbourne Gastronome  for providing a nice bag of tiger and king prawns, aioli and even a bottle of water, the cleaning of hands for.

I enjoy long raves with Kristy-Lee from In The Mood For Noddles, Ed from Tomato and Cindy from Where’s The Beef – swapping notes, talking shop, gossiping.

Three of my first abodes in Melbourne were in Fitzroy, but it’s been a long time since I had any ongoing relationship with the neighbourhood – consequently the unfolding scene in Edinburgh Gardens is a lovely surprise.

A beaut spring/early summer day and there’s people picnicking everywhere.

I stop for a yarn with Alex and James and their nutty dog Oscar after opining that their spread – a mixture of home-prepared and Coles deli counter – looks just as flash and tasty as anything the food bloggers over yonder have mustered up.

On the other side of the rotunda from where we are ensconced the Village Festival is taking place. It looks like a very fine, low-key and grass-roots celebration involving all sorts of theatrical performances and music.

As our afternoon picnic winds down, much entertainment and fascination is had in the observation of several swarthy fellows well met and their broadsword antics.

Coming across as a sort of cross between a geeky Lord Of The Rings and a medieval Star Wars, they apparently have their own FB page and rock up every couple of weeks to defend the honour of king, country, whatever.

As bloggers start dispersing, talk is made regarding an autumn picnic. Yes!

Walking back to my car, I pass a large picnic group that has its own acoustic bass/electric guitar jazz duo performing for it.

How hip is that?

Kristy Lee’s wrap on the bash is here. Green Gourmet Giraffe wrap is here.

Galli Winery and Restaurant

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1507 Melton Hwy, Plumpton. Phone: 9747 1433

Galli Winery was noted down and placed high on the hit list during the course of a pleasant/pheasant visit to its next door neighbour, Gamekeepers Secret Country Inn.

Never ever, though, did I expect to visiting the winery so soon, let alone with the fabulous company of my oldest and dearest friend, Penny, who is in town for a week from Wellington.

We are so busy doing the catch-up thing that we fly along the Calder Highway and many kilometres past the turn-off to the Melton Highway before we realise we are effectively lost.

My stubborn opposition to ever retracing my steps comes into full play as we negotiate a series of country roads, some of them bumpy, some of them gravel and one of them a dead end, taking in an incredible view of the distant Melbourne CBD along the way..

Nevertheless we have a hoot of a time before eventually getting there, thanks to a reliable sense of direction and lot of finger jabbing at the Melway.

A 1.30pm lunch it is!

The winery dining room is fabulous. Though nothing much more than a glorified barn, it presents as a very pleasing, tranquil and sophisticated space.

Galli Winery has a variety of menus that can be checked out here.

Garlic and chilli fried olives with fetta and bread ($13.50) – frankly this is pretty ordinary, although after our adventures we’re hungry to go.

The olives are warm and good, though too oily and too garlicky; we can see the chillis, but they don’t seem to be embraced by the dish as a whole.

Penny uses the term “supermarket” to describe the fetta cheese – and she’s right.

The herbed cubes are edible and dull.

The best thing about the platter is the crunchy and moreish pitta bread, on which we are still nibbling when we are presented with our main fare.

Penny describes her caesar salad with “cajun spiced chicken” ($13.90) in terms barely approaching lukewarm. She’s certainly had better – she finds it all a bit tired.

The main protagonist of my meatloaf special ($13.90) is fine – tasty, tender, well-seasoned, all with a dark, rich onion gravy.

They’re badly let down by the supporting cast, though.

The potato wedges are sad and the “sour cream dipping sauce” sitting atop them seems nothing more than plain old sour cream. Dreadful is a word that comes to mind.

The breadcrumb-topped tomato is like something from a childhood nightmare and the sprig of broccoli is so close to raw it’s not worth quibbling over.

Our cafe lattes are just a touch north of good.

Galli Winery is a fabulous venue we’ll surely visit again, so pleasurable is it to pursue a western suburbs version of “get out of town” with such ease.

The largely indifferent nature of our food did absolutely nothing to spoil our afternoon, but I wonder if we may have fared better by taking “a horses for courses” approach and ordering a $30+ steak each.

However, reading between the lines of the various menus it seems likely even those would have come with the same vegetables and wedges, so that’s a worry right there.

No arguments, though, with the linen napkins, ice water and $53 price tag.

This warmly recommended destination comes with an “order with care” proviso from us.

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La Parisienne Pates

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290 Lygon St, Carlton. Phone: 9349 1852

Remember the Rainbow Warrior?

There was a time of several years in my life – and in the lives of just about every Kiwi around the world – when I’d sooner have gouged my eyes out than let anything French, liquid, solid or otherwise, pass my lips.

Thankfully, those days are long gone.

France is rehabilitated into the brotherhood of nations, even if it is no closer to sainthood than any of them.

Like several of its near neighbours and many others, France is up to its eyeballs in the wickedness of the arms industry.

The mock-solemn pronouncements of national leaders regarding the misbehaviour of tyrants in the Middle East and elsewhere deserve no more than snorts of derision.

From whence do the guns come?

Do they take us for fools? (Rhetorical question!)

And, of course, villains are far more likely to be of a transnational variety these days.

Corporations with tentacles in just about all countries who pay taxes in none.

Dangerous, stupid, ignorant ideas and the people who believe them also show complete disregard for nominal national boundaries.

And, no, I am not referring just to the usual terrorist bogey men! Christianist sharia law, anyone?

In any case, having briefly surveyed the surrounding Lygon St options and then engaging the staff in some pleasant chat, I am delighted to sit back, chill out and generally have a ball for an hour’s worth of lunch time at  La Parisienne Pates.

This is a splendid temple to all things French, with dazzling displays of lollie water, mustards, jams, pates, snags of many kinds, cheeses, sweeties and so on, including cassoulet that appears to be incredibly rich and fatty but a bit of a bargain at $25 a portion.

Most of the business seems to be of the take-out variety, though up the back there are a handful of marble tables where patrons can partake in the pleasures of a simple and affordable eat-in menu.

Being in a charcuterie, I do the smart thing and order the piggy platter of the same name.

Although never big consumers of cured meats, just lately we’ve backed away even more from having them around – been a long time since chorizo was a weekly event!

So it is with an easy heart and no guilt at all that I tuck into my lunch, which looks on the diminutive side for $16.

But as is so often the case, looks are deceiving – this is a filling repast and quite a bargain.

The OK baguette bread, of which I’m told there is plenty more should I require it, teams up with a handsome, juicy slab of pork and pistachio terrine. Wowee – it’s brilliant!

The other porky bits consist of a piece apiece of three different and very fine salamis and a rolled-up slice of ham.

The odd man out is a slice of pastrami, its coriander crust providing a flavour grenade.

Unmeaty variety is provided by a single chargrilled artichoke and a handful of sour and sublimely crunchy cornichons.

Such an unapologetically fatty meal renders the knob of butter surplus to requirements.

I eat much slower than is my usual habit, savouring every delicious mouthful.

Around me, other customers are getting stuck into one-man quiches and filled baguettes.

My cafe latte and the service are outstanding.

I leave with a caramelised onion tart and a small serve of swell-looking potato salad.

There’s heaps of good stuff to eat in and around Lygon St, but you’ve got to be smart about it – it’s all to easy to stumble into one of the many options that are of profound mediocrity.

In that context, La Parisienne Pates presents as an extremely handy and tranquil alternative. 

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