Werribee gets a pho joint

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Pho 128, 72 Watton St, Werribee. Phone: 8742 3128

Our plans for a long overdue first visit to a Seddon Indian place are nixed upon learning there’s parent night at Bennie’s new school.

So timing is of the essence – there are places in Werrribee we have yet to try, but their turnaround times are an unknown quantity, so we head for the town’s relatively new pho joint, Pho 128.

We wonder if it will deliver pho-house quality without the critical mass of Footscray, Sunshine or St Albans.

Pho 128 certainly looks the part, with Bennie even opining, “This looks like it’ll be good”.

But a closer inspection reveals the sort of approaches no doubt necessary in a location such as this.

There are no Vietnamese names for the dishes, for instance.

And there’s even “pho seafood”, with crabsticks.

Having earlier resolved to test Pho 128’s benchmarks – a bowl of simple, straightahead pho and one of the rice or vermicelli options – we let our curiosity run free and cave.

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Bennie’s beef stew has the correct flavour, even if it is rather tame, and the beautifully tender chunks of beef (off the bone) and carrot.

But the liquid is viscous, and perhaps even thickened, in a way you’ll never find in the likes of this Footscray institution‘s bo kho.

As well, the rice noodles are thick and white, rather than thin and transparent.

Still, Bennie likes it.

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My Vietnamese chicken curry is likewise not quite as expected.

It’s a much darker colour than the classic chook curry found at this St Albans’ fave; the gravy is thicker, too, giving the dish an almost Japanese vibe.

As ever with Vietnamese chicken curry the proof is perversely in the potato chunks – and these half-dozen or so are very fine indeed, curry-coloured to their very core.

The meat is boneless, a tad on the tough side but quite tasty.

Not meeting expectations fostered by familiarity with the west’s hardcore Viet hubs is no sin and we’ve enjoyed our quick, pre-school function meals.

But we can’t help but feel we may have well and truly goofed by not sticking with the original pho-and-rice scenario.

 

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Alien organisms in Newport

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Futurelic Art Studio/Sci Fi Silos, 1 McRobert St, Newport. Phone: 0415 704 520

Head towards Williamstown, pass the Blackshaws Road turnoff , take the next left and … arrive on another planet.

Or so it seems.

Futurelic Art Studio is the mutant baby of Lixa Brandt.

Like her gritty studio/performance space itself, she is a far cry from the studied hipster veneer of inner-city galleries of cliched fame.

The upstairs loft and dungeon-like basement are used for launch parties, ambient music events and rehearsals, while Lixa’s sci-fi sculptures adorn the ground floor.

Think Alien/Bladerunner.

Open on Sundays.

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Members only? Cruising!

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Albert Park Yachting and Angling Club, Beaconsfield Parade, Albert Park. Phone: 9690 5530

Blogging works best with a genuine spirit of giving and sharing – advice, support and more.

But there is a fine line for an ambitious blogger between pro bono and “work” that should come with some sort of pay packet.

In the case of my former Sunday Herald Sun colleague Veronica, I’m happy to make the drive to Brighton to spend a couple of hours addressing with her all sorts of philosophical, tactical and technical blog-related issues.

Especially as she’s paying for lunch.

Her blog, Australian Cruising News, has been up and running for a while, but she is only just now getting round to making it really sing.

And I’m delighted to learn she is determined to make her site less a soft mouthpiece for the industry and more the sort of feisty, lively blog I know she’s capable of producing.

Going the non-flogger route, she may ruffle a few feathers along the way but in the longer term it’ll stand her in good stead in terms of individual integrity and respect AND, somewhat perversely, eventually garner the same of respect from the industry!

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But after two-plus hours of widgets, links, tags, Facebook pages, themes and a whole lot more, we are wrung out and glazed of eye.

Given that I am planning to run a blogging course at a western suburbs community centre in the not too distant future, Veronica has done me a real service, as this has been an excellent learning experience.

The people I will teaching will be coming from way behind where Veronica is, so where initially I wondered how I was going to fill six or eight two-hour classes, now I know it will be nowhere near enough.

And I learn that patience is most certainly a teaching virtue and that ultimately people must for themselves.

I can see me issuing lots of homework assignments!

After all that, she and I are hungry – and so is her hubby, Neil.

So we head off to the Albert Park Yachting And Angling Club, of which Veronica is a member.

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The club may be “members only” but has a nice, relaxed feel.

I feel more at home and ease than I suspect I’d feel in other “members only” establishments scattered around the bay and in the CBD!

I’m told the club’s annual meeting was the previous night, to which my friends attribute the thinner-than-usual lunchtime crowd.

Likewise, they tell me the blackboard menu is less extensive than usual.

But we make do and eat well of meals that come across as good, solid pub-style tucker and that are priced accordingly.

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We share a main-serve plate of panko squid rings ($19).

Good they are, too, and the real deal, as opposed to surimi “rings”.

They’re ungreasy and fresh, with the batter sticking on fine.

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Veronica is pleased with her lemon pepper chicken salad with a yogurt dressing.

The chook piece I try is a little on the dry side, but she tells me the well-dressed salad does the lubrication job.

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Neil has the porterhouse steak ($21). I’m told he always does, in this case complementing the red–wine sauce with a dollop of good, old-fashioned sauce of the tomato variety.

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I try the grilled salmon with a potato and greens “kasoundi salad” ($22).

The fish is beautifully cooked, tender and delicious.

The salad, too, is fine, with heaps of beans and asparagus.

The kasundi element is restricted to a hefty smear of the chutney across the top of my fish portion.

Its tastes sort-of OK, bit I wish it wasn’t there – it’s a bit weird.

Blogging aside, it’s great to catch up with an old work mate.

I wonder if ears have been burning as we’ve discussed, in frank and fearless fashion, times past and those who populated them?

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Back in the game again?

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My life has seen its fair share of romance, ranging from the earth-shakingly glorious to the very much less so.

I’ve never worked at hard at it – just throwing myself into life with all the zeal and the biggest heart I can muster has always been enough.

However, a couple of recent and rather amusing incidents have had me reflecting that it’s about time I started making more of an effort in cultivating this long-neglected part of my life.

Nothing too drastic …

Spend some money on clothes so I am able to step out looking a little sharper than I do wearing my habitual current uniform of T-shirts and baggy cargo pants.

Shave more than once a week.

Be a little more assertive and a whole less ambivalent when an opportunity presents.

Stuff like that …

Some may think a hyperactive food blogger – one who even regularly hosts his own blog dinners, for heaven’s sake! – is presented with ample opportunity to generate romantic potential.

It’s true that through Consider The Sauce I have met and am continuing to meet an astonishing range of fabulous people. And yes, many of them are incredible souls of the appropriate gender.

But overwhelmingly they are much younger than I. Or married. Or both.

They bring a lot of sunshine into my life – but in this context at least, there are different kinds of sunshine.

The age thingie is no issue at all for me and I certainly don’t feel my age (21).

But I suspect it bloody well is for many women!

On the other hand, I simply can’t see myself having any truck with dating websites and the like.

So what am I looking for?

The truth is, the merest whiff of romance would make me giddy with happiness.

And I think it’s important to keep in mind what a friend and I have come to think of as “The Vanakkam Principle” – after a cool slogan above the front door of that very fine West Footscray Indian eatery:

“Cherish yesterday. Dream tomorrow. Live today.”

So, you know, a date is just a date – and not a shacking-up proposal or any other kind of proposal.

It’s time to stop being such a slacker!

CTS Feast No.4: Slurp!

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Pho House, 318 Racecourse Road, Flemington. Phone: 9372 1426

It’s a thrill to contemplate that with the successful completion of the fourth Consider The Sauce Feast, a tradition has been established.

Long may it continue!

The fourth gathering took place at what has already become a favourite of ours.

Pho House adds just the right Vietnamese touch to Racecourse Road in Flemington, rounding out one of Melbourne’s best foodie strips.

So much quality and fun is such a small package!

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CTS Feat No.4 had some familiar faces from earlier escapades – namely Alistair and Michelle and their gorgeous daughter; and Charles, who brought along his daughter, Celina.

I was very excited to meet Pauline, a regular commenter on CTS with whom I enjoyed discussing Yarraville shopping and how to get kids to eat interesting, Pauline was accompanied by her pal, Sarah.

Also seated at our bubbly table was Jill from Spice Bazaar and her friend Angela.

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We were joined by a former colleague of mine, Corrina, and her partner Dave. So cool to have such a good mate from my previous life make an appearance!

Last but not least, we also enjoyed the company of my favourite food blogger in the whole world (other than myself) and Westies co-conspirator, Lauren of Footscray Food Blog.

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We started with samples of real nice and freshly made spring rolls and rice paper rolls before moving on to the soup dishes.

For the mains, everyone went the bowl route, with no one choosing the rice plate options.

Save for two customers, we all went for pho of various kinds involving a wide variety of beef.

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My own plain rare beef small was just fine.

There was much happy slurping done.

Pauline and Sarah went for the seafood curry laksa, which has a rather lovely story behind it.

When I had earlier asked Talina why she had laksa on the menu, she told me it was actually a carry-over from the previous inhabitants of the premises, the much-loved Vy Vy.

So another tradition continues!

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The girls enjoyed their laksa very much, and having dug it myself several times in recent weeks I can vouch for its excellence.

It’s mildly spiced and very creamy, but it’s the seafood that is the biz.

Apart from a plethora of surimi such as fish balls and fish cake, Talina’s laksa has fresh fish, a not very common laksa occurrence, and fat, bursty prawns that are very high on prawn flavour – also not a very common laksa occurrence.

Thanks to our Consider The Sauce friends for the company and thanks to Talina and her staff for taking care of us on what was an already busy night, even without us taking up so much space!

PS: Alistair, I can insert a close-up photo of the top of your noggin if you so desire.

See previous review here; the Pho House Facebook page is here.

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Consider The Sauce Feast No.4: Pho House,

318 Racecourse Road, Flemington. Phone: 9372 1426

Wednesday, Janurary 29, from 7pm.

Menu:

Assorted Pho House entrees and snacks.

Choice of pho, laksa or rice dish.

Soft drinks.

 

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Seddon cricket tastes good

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THE WINNERS: Malith, Vinny, Ragz, Krishna and Vuos.

Seddon Cricket Club Multicultural Day

One of the big upsides of working for the MMP group that publishes the Maribyrnong Weekly and associated mastheads across Melbpourne’s west is that Consider The Sauce gets inside running on events and stories that may otherwise pass us by.

These have included a Werribee barramundi farm and an open day at a beautiful Keilor olive establishment.

So it was that, while editing some sports briefs, I came across, at the end business of the very final item, mention of the Seddon Cricket Club’s multicultural day, a festival of cricket and the club’s varied community also being used to officially launch revamped clubrooms.

Some quick online sleuthing puts me in touch with club assistant secretary Matthew, who tells me he is well aware of CTS, thinks it “excellent” and that I am most welcome to join the party.

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Andrea, a.k.a wife of senior coach Tim, does good work as official photographer but her kiddie-ride efforts are less well appreciated.

The running sheet he sends me includes the following:

“8pm: ‘Foods of the World’ Dinner supplied by club members includes Chick pea Curry, Lamb Vindaloo, Saag Paneer (Indian), Sri Lankan Curry (Sri Lanka) Minced pork and eggplant (Vietnamese), Bratwurst and Sauerkraut (German), Lasagne (Italian), Moussaka (Greek) and Tacos (Mexican).”

I joke that all I have to do is throw in a few adjectives and my story will be done!

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On the sunny afternoon I turn up halfway through the final of the 15-over final of the Australia Day tournament, in which the Asians beat the Anzacs.

I raise a few laughs when I ask some of the winners (top photograph) which team they played for.

I enjoy talking with club president Jason, treasurer Jamie, secretary Rolf, Jason’s mum Joan and many other club stalwarts, both young and old.

It’s sublimely delightful to discover just how seriously and with just how much heart the club has embraced this multicultural thing, with a wide swathe of the planet represented among the ranks and including westies both old-school and new-school.

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The racket in the clubrooms increases in volume as the beer supplies decrease.

Some sharp-witted and sometimes rowdy speechifying ends with Joan cutting the ribbon to declare the club’s swish new home truly open for business.

Then it’s time for the food, which has been set out on a long trestle table.

There seems to be heaps and heaps of it.

But a robust appetite has been acquired by the on-hand hordes and it all goes quickly and happily.

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I have a plate of red kidney bean curry, minced pork and eggplant, and “New Delhi” chick pea curry.

They are so very good – and confirm what I already know: That food served at such wonderful community events, cooked with love in your ordinary family home kitchens, just can’t be beat.

I leave my car at Yarraville Gardens and walk home.

Thanks for having me!

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Spring rolls for which to die

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Xuan Banh Cuon, 232 Hampshire Road, Sunshine. Phone: 0422 810 075

Regular Consider The Sauce readers may be familiar already with Xuan Banh Cuon.

The restaurant’s signature dish, pork and prawn banh cuon, was chosen as one of the inaugural winners of the Westies: Dishes Of Distinction, the exciting western suburbs food awards initiated by Consider The Sauce and Lauren Wambach of Footscray Food Blog.

See Westies stories here, here and here, and Lauren’s review here.

Since then, we’ve become regulars.

It’s fair to say Xuan Banh Cuon is our go-to Vietnamese joint in Sunshine and perhaps the entire west.

We love the points of difference, the friendly welcome, the freshness and diversity of the food – and its healthiness.

I’ve eaten a good deal of banh cuon there by now, and really enjoyed some of the other dishes, too.

I’ve loved the red specialty noodles with prawn, pork and homemade fishcake.

And the bun thit nuong (vermicelli with chargrilled pork) is a sinful delight.

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There’s still plenty of scope for CTS to explore here, but on the occasion of our first actual review of this splendid establishment, I’d like to rave about the spring rolls.

More specifically, the northern-style spring rolls with vermicelli (top photo).

These rolls are quite different from the familiar spring rolls served in Vietnamese places all over the West.

We’ve all had plenty of them – and enjoyed them.

But the contrast with these beauties is stark indeed, so great are they in terms of textural and flavour delight.

In order to nail the details, Carson, Nathan and other members of the Xuan Banh Cuon extended family who happen to be present gather around me for a round-table discussion.

The casings are made of rice and called banh trang. We settle on “rice glass” as an acceptable English variation.

They’re delicate and slightly crunchy.

Inside the rolls are bean shoots, mushroom, glass noodle, carrot, pork and prawn.

Sounds so simple, nothing too flash, eh?

The eating tells a very different story.

Especially when the rolls are mixed in with the chilli dressing/sauce and the gathered herbage.

If you order pho at Xuan Banh Cuon – and you can – you will get the usual and familiar accessories.

Order spring rolls, banh cuon or thit nuong, though, and you’ll get a much more lively and diverse mix – including lots of mint and coriander.

Delicious!

 

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Holy cow – bunny chow!

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Cafe Indigo, Sanctuary Lakes Shopping Centre, Point Cook

Sanctuary Lakes shopping centre for a meeting with a new friend, new contact, new editor of a new newspaper.

But lunch first.

Am headed for a centre stalwart we have enjoyed on previous occasions, sparing only a quick glance for a cafe I have previously noted with some interest but which has been put in the “another day” category.

But what’s this? Cafe Indigo just got a whole lot more interesting.

Item: Chole bhature. Hell yes! A CTS favourite … but perhaps not today.

Item: Bombay breakfast of eggs poached in spiced mince. Hmmmm …

Item: Samosa burger … well, that sounds pretty good, too!

But what is bunny chow?

Pradeep explains that it’s a South African dish in which curry is stuffed into bread.

Curry-stuffed bread?

OK, I’m in … just the kind of thing I love taking a punt on.

In the meantime, and as I await my lunch, I get sleuthing  – and discover a whole world of funky working man’s tucker that fits right in with the Consider The Sauce world view.

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While bunnies can be found all over South Africa and even the world, the spiritual home of the bunny is Durban.

This apparently authoritative piece at Wikipedia has a rundown on bunny lore, as does this one at Facts About Durban.

I especially like this knowing quote from the latter:

“The correct way to refer to Bunny Chows when talking about them or asking for directions to the nearest purveyor is as Bunnies. The use of the word Chow will indelibly mark you as an outsider, and a pretty uncool one at that. When talking to friends it would be quite correct to suggest ‘Let’s go get us some Bunnies’. You could say to your host, taxi driver, tour guide or concierge ‘I’m really desperate for a Bunny’, ‘I need a Bunny’, ‘Show me the nearest Bunny’, or ask ‘who makes the best Bunny in town?'”

 I even discover the most fabulous blog, Quarterbunny, which is run by a crew I “heart” instantaneously – they’re driven, possessed and obsessed, and completely unapologetic about it.

Quarterbunny has reviews and photos of such splendidly named establishments as Patel’s Vegetarian Refreshment Lounge and Mrs Govender’s Curry Kitchen And Take Away.

I’m not sure what the Quarterbunny experts would make of my Cafe Indigo bunny, but it tastes really fine to me.

The lamb curry is mild but wonderfully sticky, and has the odd cardamom floating about and some nice potato chunks.

I eat my bunny with cutlery, though I suspect this is flouting some sort of fundamental bunny etiquette. (I subsequently discover this is indeed the case!)

I just love the way the curry gravy soaks into the bread.

And that bread, by the way, is your standard white loaf.

This is working man’s food and your boutique bread nonsense is not only unwanted in this sort of terrain but would be an outright disaster.

Artisan sourdough?

Stuff that! Or not, if you follow me …

The asking price for my Cafe Indigo bunny is $11.90, which I suspect would horrify your typical Durban bunny maven.

But I consider it a good deal given shopping centre rents and the opportunity to embrace a soul food genre of which I have been – until this very hour – completely ignorant.

As I await my new friend, I enjoy a long chat with Pradeep and Ankur about many things Indian food and eateries, especially those spread across the west, resolving all the while to return soon to try their vegetable and chicken bunnies.

 

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Something very fishy in Werribee

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These barramundi – by the far the biggest CTS has ever laid eyes on – are two to three years old.

MainStream Aquaculture, 73-79 Lock Avenue, Werribee

As an investment banker, Boris Musa was on the board on MainStream Aquaculture in Werribee.

He liked the company and what it does so much, he signed up and is now managing director and chief executive.

And wears jeans and a polo shirt to work.

“I have a couple of expensive suits in the wardrobe that I never wear,” he says with an easy smile.

In the process, he’s moved from Hawthorn to Seaholme – so his transformation into a Westie is complete!

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The old-timers seen in the top photo are named after the company’s shareholders.

I am fascinated as he talks me through the company’s operations and then gives me “the tour”.

The private company was formed in 2003 and has 40 or so investors and a staff of about 20, two of whom are involved in the marketing side of things.

It sells “seed stock genetic material” – barramundi that are about 20 to 30 days’ old – for export.

And it sells mature barramundi, as “quality food fish”, for the domestic market.

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The company has three export sectors – the Middle East, South-East Asia and the US.

The company relies on pure water from an aquifer 300 metres below the company’s Werribee property. And, yes, they pay for that resource.

One of the company’s local customers is a venerable Footscray institution.

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About 60 to 70 per cent of the company’s trade is in live fish, be they large or small.

But it also sells chilled whole fish and value-added products such as smoked fish.

The fingerling exports are handled two different ways.

Fish bins with oxygen regulators are designed for wide-body aircraft and can carry quarter of a million fish.

Oxygenated plastic bags in foam containers on pallets are capable of storing far fewer fish but present a more flexible option, as there are far more flights available in terms of non-wide-body planes.

Boris is participating in the 2014 Ride to Cure Diabetes – see his story and/or make a donation here.

The MainStream website is here.

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CTS Feast No.4: Pho House

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NOTE: THIS FEAST IS NOW FULLY SUBSCRIBED! NO MORE APPLICATIONS, THANKS!

Meet Talina!

She’s the boss lady at Pho House, the lovely joint that is adding even more diversity to Racecourse Road in Flemington.

You’ll be unsurprised to learn, given the name of her restuarant, that she is proud of her pho.

Very proud.

And she wants CTS readers to try it!

So in conjunction with Consider The Sauce, Talina and her Pho House crew will host the fourth Consider The Sauce Feast.

Talina really, really does want you to try her pho.

But, OK, if you insist, the lucky punters who gain feast seats can opt for a laksa or rice dish.

As well, there will assorted Pho House entrees and soft drinks.

If you fancy a beer or wine, you will be expected to pay for them yourself.

Pretty much the same ground rules as applied for previous CTS Feasts …

  • No restrictions this time around on those who have attended previous CTS dinners.  
  • First in, first served.
  • There are 10 places only available.
  • Fellow food bloggers welcome to apply but they will not be given preference.
  • No more than two places to be claimed by any applicant, though “singles” will also be accepted.
  • There will be no charge for food or soft drinks, but guests will be expected to pay for their own alcohol.
  • Applications only to the email address posted elsewhere on this site. Attempts to gain a seat by commenting on this post will be ignored.

Consider The Sauce Feast No.4: Pho House,

318 Racecourse Road, Flemington. Phone: 9372 1426

Wednesday, Janurary 29, from 7pm.

Menu:

Assorted Pho House entrees and snacks.

Choice of pho, laksa or rice dish.

Soft drinks.

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See earlier story here and the Pho House Facebook page here.

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CTS readers – have your say!

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Hi there CTS friends and followers!

The following poll will run for a week.

The poll is multiple choice with a maximum of four answers.

Back to bachelor

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So dad’s portion of the school hols is done and dusted.

Bennie’s off on a different kind of adventure with his mum – and I hope they have just as much fun as we had.

As she pointed out yesterday, these four weeks just gone were the longest uninterrupted time father and son had ever had to do nothing but hang together.

We didn’t do much – not so much as a single day trip out of town.

But it was an incredible journey of its own kind.

Sometimes all a boy needs is metaphorically warm home and a happy dad.

Do I miss him?

Not yet – but I will.

The giddy but hugely enjoyable pace of daily posts at CTS is likely to slacken somewhat!

Ignoring the bratwurst option

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Wing Loong Restaurant, 512 Elizabeth Street, Melbourne. Phone: 9663 1899

This wearing a beret in the heat and the sun is getting ridiculous.

Bennie and I have scoured many of the obvious spots for a dad hat for summer to no avail.

It’s not the prices so much – although there is that – but the fact we simply can’t find one to fit.

What to do?

“Vic Market,” says he.

He’s right.

But first, lunch.

We fancy revisiting one of the popular and reliable places on the stretch of Elizabeth just south of the market – maybe this one, or this one or that one.

But they’re all packed – not a seat to be had.

So we resort to a place we suspect is frequented by many people in the same situation.

Wing Loong should be hotspot, sited as it is right opposite the market and in slightly roomier and very slightly classier premises than its Elizabeth Street neighbours.

But the meal we have is on the down side of average.

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To be fair, Bennie gets the best of it.

He really enjoys his meat-laden, tasty pork congee and cleans the bowl in swift fashion.

I’m not so lucky.

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It can be hard to define what separates a super Chinese roast-meat-and-rice plate from a drab one.

Whatever it is, my plate doesn’t have “it”.

OK rice, bok choy, quite tender but dull on-the-bone chicken are all in attendance, but lacking the spark to make my lunch in any way memorable.

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Same goes for our quartet of steamed beef dumplings.

The place has been quite busy during our stay, and perhaps there’s some real winners on the longish and reasonably-priced menu.

But maybe we shoulda gone for a stand-up bratwurst across the road.

 

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Friendship

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It takes all sorts of friends to make up a life.

A pair of mine, 10 years or so older than me and from my decades-ago past, had a significant mentor-like impact on my late teens and then my early ’20s, at which point the three of us lived together briefly in London.

Much immaturity on my part and unaddressed expectations all round led to estrangement that was never healed.

I’ve searched for you, Phil and Ali of Careys Bay, many, many times online!

It doesn’t help that I expect you’re not the sort of folks likely to leave sizable online footprints – if any at all.

Nor does it help, Phil, that your name is identical to that of a Very Famous Jazz Trombonist.

But I miss you!

Of course, successfully tracking them down need not mean we would have anything to talk about after all these years – or any affinity at all.

Nor can I expect they will be as keen to hear from me again as I am to make contact with them!

For most of my life, journalism has provided the bulk of my friends – and even my family of sorts.

Changes to the industry means those day have gone.

Regardless of the esteem and affection in which I hold my current colleagues – and hopefully they, me! – the transient nature of the industry and my own now chronic role as a casual worker seem unlikely to yield the sort of friendships that last decades and lifetimes.

But I do enjoy staying fully in the loop with several much-loved buddies from my full-time journalism days. Sometimes social media inter-action even yields to your actual real-time face-to-face encounters – but not nearly often enough!

There’s other friends in New Zealand and the US so deeply embedded in my life that the relationships stay strong despite only minimal email or phone contact.

Sometimes that contact, by mutual assent, seems to be geared to be just sufficient enough to maintain contact in friendships that can and do spring back fully to life when opportunities present.

Like so many people today, I have friends I have never met face to face – people I “met” while participating in online forums and, subsequently, on Facebook and the like.

It is the nature of such relationships that they come and go a little more glibly than those forged in the intensity of family, work, school or neighbourhood circumstances.

Still, I count myself lucky to have accrued number of such characters who I am happy to call friends and look forward to the times when I can actually press the flesh with such pals.

Then there’s my son and children in general.

Bennie is now old enough that he need no longer be considered an intensely loved but nevertheless high-maintenance junior human being.

He’s grand company and in recent days has provided surprisingly insightful advice and reflections on a couple of issues affecting his father. And I’ll certainly be getting him to run his eyes over this post before clicking on the “publish” button.

It’s common place for parents to describe a child as their “best friend”.

But no matter how agreeable, loving and life-affirming such relationships may be, I wonder if “friendship” can ever be an accurate description of them.

And how about former partners and lovers?

In the most obvious case, I am blessed to have finally arrived at what seems to a be solid and loving friendship – although we can still have our moments!

In other instances involving other people, such relationships have not been created – perhaps out a lack of any necessity for such to occur.

Although I am again blessed in that there is – AFAIK! – a measure of goodwill and a lack of animosity.

Life, after all, does go on.

And among all the many rewards Consider The Sauce is providing to us, new friends are at the top of the list.

Sunshine’s ‘secret’ gem

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Maurya Indian Restaurant & Cafe, 58 Station Place, Sunshine. Phone: 9364 9001

Maurya existed before Consider The Sauce wrote about it in June, 2011.

Maurya will no doubt go on existing long after our lunch visit on a stinking hot day.

The question is: How?

As Bennie and I await our food, he asks: “Have you ever seen anyone else in here?”

My answer is: “No.”

Actually, that’s not strictly true – on one previous visit, I had shared the premises with a table of four.

But other than that … zip.

The use of the word “secret” in the above headline is a bit cheeky – Maurya is right out there in the open, if not particularly obvious.

But it is situated on an unsalubrious bit of Sunshine central, so presumably the rents are suitably low – no doubt another factor in its survival.

And I agree with Bennie’s surmising – Maurya’s customers, we reckon, hit the place at night-time hours, with truck and taxi drivers and students no doubt thick among their number.

In any case, we are happy to write about the place for a third time – we believe it deserves more love.

Customers can choose from a broad spectrum of Indian food at Maurya (menu below).

Curries, both meat and vegetable, all cost under $10 and include the ubiquitous butter chicken and rogan josh.

Listed, too, are various chaat dishes and biryanis.

But we’re happy to do what we reckon the regulars almost certainly do and go for two of the many snacky and/or brekkie dishes.

Our food doesn’t arrive “almost immediately”. But nor is the wait onerous. In  fact, it’s of just the right duration to denote that our lunch is being made just for us.

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Bennie has seen his dad chow down on cholley bhaturey plenty of times but this is the first occasion he’s chosen it for himself.

The Maurya version ($8) is a pleasing affair.

The breads are fresh and delicious, the chick peas dark, rich and smooth, and the cooling yogurt appears to house-made.

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My gobhi parantha ($7) is simply a superb light lunch.

The same chunky/runny yogurt as Bennie.

Two flatbreads stuffed with finely diced/smeared cauliflower that is tender, chilli-tinged and has subtle yet very present cauliflower flavour.

Slathered with butter and dipped in the yogurt, it’s all terrific.

Follwing the example set my CTS pal Nat Stockley, I have fallen into the excellent habit of listing restaurants on Urbanspoon when we hit new places or ones unlikely to have already been listed.

Obbviously, in such cases CTS is the first one to pass comment on the eateries concerned.

But I can recall no other situation in which a long-standing business has received no mention from anyone else – be it from bloggers or what Urbanspon refers to as “user reviews”.

Yep, we really do reckon Maurya deserves more love.

See previous posts here and here.

 

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Letting go bit by bit

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When I was Bennie’s age – actually, for quite a few years even before that – me, my sister and our various friends had the run of our city.

We moved freely all over a town of more than 100,00, sometimes by public transport, but more often by walking or bicycle.

During school holiday time that wasn’t taken up by family adventures in the countryside, we’d frequently disappear after breakfast and not return home until just before dinner.

During those wild, adventurous times – or so they seem to be in memory, although I also recall periods of utter boredom and tedium – our parents had little idea where we were, what we were up to and with whom.

But that was in another century and another country.

The environment in which my boy is on the very cusp of teenagedom and high school seems like a very different place.

How different?

Well that, to my mind, is a very interesting question, the answers to which are impossible to calculate as the issue is so very, very subjective.

Bennie is a worldly, savvy young man who is able to cope with and enjoy a wide variety of social settings and circumstances.

But for him, and pretty much every one of his mates AFAIK, out-of-school company has long been regulated by parents doing the phone rounds and delivering and picking up kids.

That seems unlikely to change even as the high school year starts and Bennie learns to get to and from using public transport.

Are the tight reigns on which parents keep their kids based on any reality at all?

I would argue that the colossal increase in road traffic, and in our area the thunderous trucks, warrant a high degree of caution.

But as for the rest – train station violence, Knifepoint, stranger danger, whatever other bogeymen you wish to name – well I just don’t know.

Hard to tell the difference between being an overly controlling parent and one who is simply being prudent.

In the meantime, Bennie’s parents are learning to deliberately, slowly loosen the binds that tie.

Walking a local friend home to his place.

Solo trips to the library.

Rudimentary shopping chores or gelati runs.

Goofing off in our local park with a school mate who is spending the day with us.

Doubtless such gestures may come to seem themselves as restrictive to our soon-to-be-teenager – just a few weeks away, really!

But at least it’s a start.

Neigbourly BBQ

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Hallah, 268 Victoria St, North Melbourne. Phone: 9329 4293

Our neighbour and mate Rob may be on the verge of moving to hipster Fitzroy, but he’s been on food adventures with us often enough to know our style.

So it phases him not at all that we park in the vicinity of Vic Market and then set about deciding where to eat.

The night market is rocking and the numbers are big.

Bennie pricks his ears up, but his two companions firmly nix that idea quick smart.

A couple of likely places are closed, so we end up stumbling into Hallah and enjoy a good Korean meal.

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Like everywhere around here on this night, it’s busy.

The staff cope well but the service is a little perfunctory.

That’s OK – we’re happy to eat and split, so the swiftness with which our food appears is appreciated.

As we’re right into catching up, covering a fascinating range of conversational topics and don’t want to pore over the menu, we quickly settle on the least expensive of the three set menus – the Hallah assorted BBQ set for two people ($56), and throw in another dish from the broader menu to make up for the fact we’re a threesome.

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Presumably the pork belly, beef short rib fillets and chicken thigh are meant to be the highlight of our meal.

The meat is fine, juicy and tender, and enjoyable with the three dipping sauces – one soy, one oil-salt-pepper, and another that seems to be a slightly spicy miso mash.

But I, at least, am a little underwhelmed. It’s at this point I’m thinking that ordering some of the more prosaic one-bowl dishes earlier in the menu may have been wiser.

But the bells and whistles that come with our meal impress much more and are much more fun.

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For me there is a breakthrough here.

I’ve always been indifferent or unswayed by the charms of kimchi, so am delighted to find this is the first – ever – I can say I truly enjoyed it.

The shredded cabbage and bean sprouts are plain and perhaps in need of more seasoning, but we all three pounce on the beautifully pickled onion.

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The seafood pancake is a delight – stuffed with seafood and greenery, its texture and flavour is far superior to the dry, starchy version we’ve often had as green onion pancake in Chinese places.

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“Soybean past soup” packs an intense flavour hit and is chockers with vegetableses and baby clams.

Our “extra” dish to complement the set menu is dragon cheese chicken ($16, top photograph).

Listed as spicy, it seems to us hardened chilli warriors anything but.

It IS very cheesy and strikes me as odd verging on weird.

But there you go.

The set menu option has served our purposes for this particular social outing.

But we reckon a closer, more discerning examination of the menu may reap fine dividends – it’s packed with many options.

The $28 plates of fried chicken we see sailing past us look especially hot.

The Hallah website is here.

 

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Gelati magic

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Hello Gelo, 15 Anderson St Yarraville. Phone: 90785696

As previously and recently noted, Hello Gelo in Yarraville is very much our go-to place for gelati.

Indeed, we love Scott and what he does, dig checking out his new flavours and can barely imagine life without our several-times-a-week visits to his Anderson Street emporium.

So we are excited to invited to witness him whipping up some of his gelati magic.

Scott has been running Hello Gelo here for about 4 1/2 years, having sold his Carlton cafe about three years ago.

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We have questions.

Is there a difference between gelati and ice cream?

The answer appears to be “no” but also a significant “yes”.

As I understand it, ice cream is higher in fat but has more air, while gelati is lower in fat but is a much denser product.

Fat-wise, this would seem to balance out.

But I’m also left in even less doubt that when it comes to ice cream/gelati, you get what you pay for.

Budget-priced supermarket brands cost what they do because of ingredients (“padding”) the details of which you may not want to know.

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As it is, our admiration for Scott and his products grows in leaps and bounds as we watch him in action and hear about how he goes about his work.

The attention to detail and solid determination to use only the best ingredients is fantastic!

Here is a man, for instance, who makes his own hokey pokey using golden syrup, castor sugar and bicarb.

You reckon that’s what you may be getting in your generic brand ice cream?

I don’t think so!

He uses fresh fruit where available, affordable and applicable.

For other flavours, he uses frozen fruit just because the flavour is better or, in the case of the gorgeous-smelling amarena cherrys, a premium imported product simply because it has to be that way.

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When we arrive, he has already prepared the bases of the four flavours he will be making – forest berry sorbet, raspberry ice cream, black cherry yogurt bubblegum.

The bases consist of dextrose, sugar, skim milk powder and natural vegetable gums.

Those bases are then poured into his Corema gelati machine along with full-fat milk and the fruit or flavourings.

For ripple gelatis, such as today’s black cherry yogurt or hokey pokey or anything involving solids such as nuts, Scott deftly uses a spatula to weave the goodies into the gelati as it exits the machine.

The gelati straight of the machine tastes delicious, of course, but has the consistency of soft-serve ice cream.

A couple of hours in Scott’s “shock freezer” fixes that up and then they’re ready to sell.

Scott tells us his most popular flavours are chocolate and salted caramel.

Quantities vary, but last summer found him making 300 litres in a two-day period.

And yes, in summer and on hot days, he sells way more of his dairy-free sorbets or ices.

 

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In tune in Yarraville

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Feedback Cafe, 31 Ballarat Street, Yarraville. Phone: 9689 1955

Bad impressions can linger.

Feedback Cafe has been around for what seems like forever – certainly as long as we’ve been in the west and hanging out in the village, and certainly long before we’d ever heard about food blogs.

Management changed about five years ago but we’ve been slow to re-frequent the place.

We didn’t have what you’d call rotten times at Feedback back then, but a certain charmlessness in both food and service terms meant the place fell into the “prefer others” category.

Following more regular visits in recent times, a beaut lunch Bennie and I enjoy there has us wondering why we haven’t made Feedback Cafe our Yarraville home base all along.

The music really, really helps.

Those recent visits have mostly been made to a soundtrack of greasy, swinging, rocking old-school ’40s and ’50s rhythm and blues.

For our Monday lunch, Bennie and I are serenaded in a different way – by troubadour Michael Hurley.

Hurley is part of a brilliantly crazy musical tribe that also includes the Holy Modal Rounders and Jeffrey Frederick.

Fully embedded in American music traditions, but always standing slightly, hilariously, magically apart, this whacko crew also includes my good Kentucky pal Gary Sisco.

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During our lunch, I Facebook message Sisco to tell him we’re enjoying his mate Hurley while dining and that the music-crazed Feedback crew have even been known to enjoy a Holy Modal Rounders-themed week.

Now THAT’S cool.

Sisco had his own album, Sisco & Pals the End of the Trail, released through the Jeffrey Frederick website a few years back.

The album is still available there, as are heaps of other releases by these folks.

The site is chockers with memorable, incredibly funny hair-raising tales of the tribe’s history by Sisco and others.

And like Sisco, I reckon the 1976 album Have Moicy, featuring Hurley, Frederick and the Rounders, is an outright masterpiece that stands with the very best Duke Ellington, Louis Armstrong, Chuck Berry or any other American genius you can think of has ever come up with.

OK, on with the food!

The feedback lunch menu (below) has a decided American south/south-west slant without getting too precious about it.

That’s a bit like the way the decor and general atmosphere go their own slightly scruffy, comfy lived-in way in a nice contrast to the increasing hipster-sheen of Yarraville and Seddon.

The staff, too, have that slightly scruffy, comfy, lived-in look. (Joke!)

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As I did on my previous visit, Bennie orders the pulled pork po’ boy with slaw and chipotle BBQ sauce ($10).

It’s fresh and crunchy, and he likes it, but hankers for a more robust BBQ flavour.

And he frankly, rudely ogles the popcorn chicken po’ boy a lovely gran is attacking at an adjacent table.

It DOES look real fine!

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My hillbilly chilli of chipotle, stout and puy lentils with corn chips and sour cream ($11) is unlike any chill I’ve ever had.

There’s no red beans, for starters!

But with the sour cream, a lesser amount of cheddar and some salsa, the beautifully cooked lentils make for a satisfying lunch.

The corn chips are the same quality brand we always have around home – that’s a good thing!

After a couple of stupendously fine cafe lattes, I remark to Bennie as we amble up Ballarat Street that my beverages have completely alleviated my back pain.

That’s not true, but they’ve sure made it more bearable!

(PS: I saw the Holy Modal Rounders live on Haight Street, San Francisco, in 1977!)

 

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Books 2013: A Healing Post

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For our month-long stay-at-home summer holiday, Bennie and I have been good boys.

Very, very good boys.

Heaps of eating out, of course, but that’s been countered by … breakfasts of our homemade muesli with fruit and yogurt, and lots of salads and pulse dishes.

Outings that have involved much frisbee tossing, a past-time at which I am ecstatic to find Bennie has really started to enjoy.

Lots of down time.

The frequent late nights have been ameliorated by the complete non-necessity for alarm-setting.

Long sleep-ins rule!

So it was a thoroughly unpleasant shock last night when my wobbly disc chose to throw a wobbly, bringing with it the usual intense pain.

Usually it happens only when I’m tired, stressed, anxious, rundown or all of the above.

Intellectually and through long experience, I know this is simply a matter of rest, sleep and a few days’ time.

But in my heart and soul, it’s frightening just how quickly the pain and discomfort can see me sink down to a dark place in which I feel old, friendless, gloomy, bleak and darn right pessimistic.

My instincts are always to fight back with whatever is at hand.

Rest, the appropriate drugs, light exercise, healthy food, reading … and lots and lots of music.

Thanks very much to Lionel Hampton, Blind Willie McTell, Lightnin’ Hopkins, Lee Hazlewood and Texas whorehouse pianist Robert Shaw for the latter, with lots more to come.

What else?

What about a blog post? A great pick-me-up they are!

Already done one today, but OK here’s another – inspired by my good pal and fellow blogger Caron and her similar list at The Crayon Files.

This one – a fun look back at my reading highlights for 2013 – is for me.

If you come to Consider The Sauce for food stuff and nothing but, please ignore!

Thelonious Monk – The Life And Times Of An American Original by Robin D.G. Kelley

Still working my way through this one and enjoying doing so. This has been hailed as being everything a jazz biography should be.

I’ve never considered myself a Monk junkie, so am somewhat bemused that through the Blue Note and Prestige sides, the Riverside Records box, just about all the Columbia albums and a few other odds and sods, I have amassed the greater proportion of his discography and certainly all the key moments.

That’s the kind of thing that can bring a book alive!

Creole Trombone – Kid Ory And The Early Years Of Jazz by John McCusker

A compact but wonderful look at the great trombonist that paints him as much more than a mere sideman for the likes of Louis Armstrong, Jelly Roll Morton and King Oliver.

Bonus: Being inspired to boost my until-then rather slim collection of Ory-as-leader.

Having been on an intense deep soul kick for the past six months, Robert Gordon’s Respect Yourself: Stax Records And The Soul Explosion awaits my reading pleasure.

Shane by Jack Schaefer

Comstock Lode by Louis L’Amour

I’ve read quite a few famous, historically important westerns in recent years.

They can be hard work and slow-going.

And it helps to have a high tolerance for the politically incorrect – frequently they are very much a product of their times.

I enjoyed Shane in that sort of context.

But Comstock Lode was much better.

L’Amour is often touted as the most read author ever – or maybe the most read American author ever.

Whatever … I never expected to find myself reading his books, let alone enjoying them.

In my ignorance, I feared an excess of Boys Own and “Mills And Boon for blokes”. And I also feared I would be appalled and angered by his treatment of North America’s natives.

In terms of the latter, I have been pleasantly surprised – in this regard, it seems, L’Amour was well ahead of his times.

Yes, the stories can be slow and repetitive, and there is a good deal of unrealistic mythologising.

But there is no doubting the craft and feel of his writing.

Leviathan Wakes, Caliban’s War and Abaddon’s Gate by James S.A. Corey

Thanks to Courtney and James for the hot tip on this trilogy!

I’ve never been drawn to the space opera genre.

It’s always seemed too geekish, too overtly macho and militaristic for me.

These three books have changed all that!

What enormous fun – I galloped through them.

Yes, there’s all sort of space wars nonsense.

But there’s also a real nice noir feel, a touch of Pulp Fiction and great humor.

Midst Toil And Tribulation by David Weber

Nor have I ever been drawn to what I have unkindly and forever thought of as sci-fi hacks or journeymen such as David Weber.

But I’m thrilled I took on a punt on his Safehold series, of which Midst Toil And Tribulation is the sixth book.

I’ve loved them all!

Adventure, romance, sci-fi meets the high seas, magic, terrific politics … and probably the best villain I have ever come across.

Imagine the Pope meets Adolf Hitler …

I suspect this series will run and run and run, but for once I don’t care.

Weber is so prolific that I’m assured of a book a year, so the chances of a case of “George R.R. Martin syndrome” happening are exceedingly slim.

Iron Curtain – The Crushing Of Eastern Europe 1944-1956 by Anne Applebaum

One of the oddities of being a late-blooming baby boomer dad in the early years of this new century is this … for my son, the Soviet Union will be little more than a textbook topic, if that, and maybe even just an obscure historical abstraction.

For my generation, the scowling visages of the Soviet leadership cast gloom and anxiety across our world in profound ways – not jut politically, but socially and culturally as well.

I still find it remarkable that it is no more!

I found this history of the communist takeover of eastern and central Europe a brilliant read.

And not once did I tire of the depth of detail.

The Dark Tower Series and Doctor Sleep by Stephen King

I’m three books into the Dark Tower Series, one of the few major King works I have not read.

Halfway through book two, I thought I was well on the way to being fully captivated.

You know – unplug the phone, take leave owing, shun friends, housework and dirty dishes … that sort of captivation.

The pace has slackened somewhat, but I am sufficiently taken with the Gunslinger and his cohorts to expect I’ll finish all eight books by the end of the year.

Doctor Sleep was an OK sequel to The Shining, but falls, I reckon, into “for fans only” territory after the return to form displayed by Under The Dome and 11/22/63, both of which I enjoyed immensely.

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Well, do I feel better after banging that out?

Hell, yes!