Tag Archives: Melbourne

Mo Jo La Coffee

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Mo Jo La Coffee, Cherry Lake, Millers Rd, Altona.

Laurence has been running his coffee service at Cherry Lake since September.

He tells me the business is going fine, to the extent he’s even pondering an extension into food realms.

A carpenter in his previous life, he built his very cool cart himself.

He’s open seven days a week and from around 6am on week days.

That’s when he gets good custom from the commuters; later on in the day there’s an influx of mum with babes and toddlers in tow.

The cafe latte he makes me is terrific – hot and strong.

The business gets its name from Laurence’s daughters – Moana, Joanne and Lauren.

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Over by the lake itself, I get talking to a trio gregarious fishermen.

Vladimir, Paul and Vladimir are all from Altona by way of Slovakia.

They tell me they’re trying catch the pest species carp.

When they then tell me it’s not unusual for the anglers hereabouts to pull in carp weighing six, seven, eight and more kilograms, I frankly and rather rudely express strident disbelief.

Surely they’re winding me up?

So Paul sends me over to examine the contents of a big red bucket at the fishing pozzie of some fellow fishermen about 20 metres away.

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Peering in, I am gobsmacked to see a still very much alive fish that is at least a foot and a half long!

The boys tell me that the carp they catch here make good eating, but that they remove the oily skins and that the fish does have a lot of bones.

One of the Vlads cheerfully informs me that if he were to reveal the secret ingredients of his bait balls, he’d then be obliged to shoot me.

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Pho Hung Vuong Saigon

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Pho Hung Vuong Saigon, 128 Hopkins St, Footscray. Phone: 9689 6002

Pho Hung Vuong Saigon is unquestionably the largest of Footscray’s pho joints.

Based on long observation, I think it’s fair to claim it’s also the most popular.

I base that claim on the simple fact Bennie and I never eat there … every time when in the vicinity and in the pho mood, the place is invariably packed, with every table taken and often folks waiting for a vacant one.

As well, our recall is that when the place is operating at its usual frantic and high-turnover pace, the service – indeed, the experience in general – can become somewhat frazzled.

What’s the appeal?

Well, when it opened at these premises, quite a few years back now, it did have a sort cafe-style vibe not found in its many nearby competitors.

These days, though, and size apart, it has so many of the usual accoutrements in terms of artwork and has such a lived-in feel that it seems not much different from all the others.

So … a mid-week and early-ish lunch beckons, there’s actually unused tables – so in we go.

Our orders are taken promptly and with a minimum of fuss.

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Bennie’s “pork chop, fried egg, shredded pork” ($10.50) really hits the spot.

As far as I can recall it’s the first time he’s eaten this dish – in my company at least.

But he barely pauses for breath as he more or less eats the plate clean.

The cucumber slices look a little, um, “tired” to me, and the usual pate slice is missing, replaced it seems by another chunk of chop meat.

The egg looks really good.

He leaves the soup until last, but he loves that, too, telling me it’s just right – which means, usually, not too sweet.

As I pondered my pho order, a little devil sitting on one shoulder was whispering, “medium, medium, medium”. The little angel sitting on the other was whispering, with equal vehemence, “small, small, small”.

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For once, I sided with the angels and that turns out to be a good move, as my small “sliced beef/sliced chicken” ($8.50) is excellent and plenty big enough.

The basil and chillis are fresh, the broth is crisp and packed with flavour and there’s more than enough meat, all of good quality.

And for once, I finish a serve of pho … almost.

Our lunch has been very good but no better than what is available at several nearby alternative establishments.

But nevertheless, we note that no doubt due to its rampant popularity the hard-working staff here are so busy taking care of business that there seems little scope for the smiling welcome and service we ordinarily receive at our most regular pho haunt.

 

Wabi Sabi Salon

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Wabi Sabi Salon, 94 Smith St, Collingwood. Phone: 9417 6119

A trip across town to visit Books For Cooks allows an opportunity to have a look at a neighbourhood that was once as familiar to me as any in Melbourne.

The area around the nexus of Smith and Gertrude streets in Collingwood/Fitzroy has certainly changed a lot since I lived in the area after moving to Melbourne in the late 1980s.

There’s not a trace, so far as I can tell, of the Eastern European vibe that was then a bit part of Gertrude St experience.

The area has even changed a bit since the end a few years back of a radio gig that saw me visiting – and eating – on a weekly basis for decades.

There’s an intriguing range of retail establishments.

And there’s eating houses – lots and lots of them.

And while there’s a few closed at Monday lunchtime, most are open and doing brisk business.

I choose one such and proceed to be knocked out by the quality of the meal that unfolds.

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Wabi Sabi Salon is a long-time Smith St resident and feels like it.

There’s no stainless steel here. Instead, there’s funky old floorboards, Japanese adornments on the walls and deep, cool shadows.

I’m tempted to say it feels like old, authentic Japan, but as I’ve never been to that country I’d be crapping on.

But you get the drift … it’s got a nice lived-in feel.

As with its neighbouring joints, Wabi Sabi is quite busy for a Monday, and as ever there’s a constant stream of regulars stopping by the counter at the front to obtain takeaway sushi rolls.

I vaguely recall a few concerns about service and lengthy waiting times from previous visits, but have no such problems this time.

I yearn for a lightish meal, so order the vegetable bento ($16). More than that, I do something very unusual for me – I order it with brown rice.

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My lunch starts with a very fine bowl of miso soup – studded with a lightweight quotient of seaweed and chewy tofu, it’s of just the right temperature and boasts intense flavour.

My bento (top photo) is even better.

In fact, it’s superb – and puts to utter shame bentos shoved out all over the city in the sort of cheap ‘n’ cheerful “Japanese” joints found in alleyways and food halls.

A crunchy, fresh salad of leaves with a few small tomato pieces and a smooth, creamy sesame dressing.

Two crisp gyoza-style dumplings that are both cold and delicious.

A small bowl of slithery buckwheat noodles in tangy dressing, joined by an even smaller serve of some sort of vermicelli matched with the same chewy tofu found in the soup.

Nutty brown rice topped with black sesame seeds.

And, finally and best of all, a wonderful stew of carrots, beans, lotus root, broccoli and several large chunks of incredibly lovely tofu, soft and silky on the inside and with slightly crusted outsides, all swimming in a light broth that is eventually mopped up with the rice.

I’m not too proud to request a spoon for just that purpose.

Check out the Wabi Sabi website, including full dinner and lunch menus, here.

 

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Books For Cooks

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Books For Cooks, 233-235 Gertrude St, Fitzroy. Phone: 8415 1415

As someone who has come to love the online ease with which I can get my hands on music and books, and the information about them on which to base my buying, I have lamented the lack of bricks and mortar businesses in Melbourne that cater to my specific interests.

I have learned to live without them, though.

But in the form of Tim, at the splendid Fitzroy emporium Books For Cooks, I get a superb example of just why local, homegrown businesses should be encouraged whenever possible.

As well as looking to do a story for Consider The Sauce, I have driven across town with the notional purpose of buying a Lebanese or other Middle Eastern cookbook to fill a gap in my modest home collection.

I mention to Tim a particular book, one that is listed on the shop’s website but is not in stock.

He knows the book well. He informs me of its background and its virtues and drawbacks.

He’s not trying to dissuade me from buying it as such; it’s more like he’s trying to steer me towards a purchase that will suit my needs.

We go through the same routine with another book, this one covering Persian cooking.

In the end, and somewhat to my surprise, I end up buying The Complete Middle East Cookbook by Tess Mallos.

This makes all kinds of sense.

The book is the same size and in the same format, using the same typefaces, as Charmaine Solomon’s equivalent Asian tome.

As such, it will no doubt become a cherished asset and dependable companion in our home, and duly become dog-eared, sauce-spattered and loved a lot.

As well, my new book’s concept of “Middle East” stretches from Greece at one end to Afghanistan at the other.

So there you go – I’ve ended up with a book I can use and use often, and Tim has adroitly manoeuvred me away from the allure of those that had been seducing me with flash.

“We don’t aim to sell the book with the highest mark-up as a priority,” says Tim. “We want people to have a rewarding experience with the books they buy here.”

Helping me buy a book turns out to be just a small part of an engrossing hour of conversation as Tim gives generously of his time and insights.

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Books For Cooks is in its 13th year, Tim and partner Amanda having bought the name and “some stock” from a couple of dears for whom it was a sideline to their Malvern East travel agency.

“We saw a tiny ad in The Age and ended up being the only ones interested in buying it,” Tim says. “There was no research … we bought it on credit cards – and then did a business plan.”

The seems scarcely believable to me, such is the detail Tim provides me on running the shop, the various inequities of the international postal system, the effects of the internet, the ongoing subject of a GST on online imports and much more.

He tells me about 10 per cent of the shops turnover is online but that 40 per cent comes from the custom of professional cooks.

For some reason this surprises me.

The current best-sellers are three books by Israeli-born, London-based Yotam Ottolengh – Ottolengh: The Coobook, Plenty and Jerusalem.

The shop will often stock two or three copies of a book – perhaps one will be secondhand, or another may be printed using a particular font.

Books For Cooks sources books from about 650 suppliers in England, the US, France, Spain, Italy, Germany, Belgium, Sweden, Singapore, Japan, Canada and more.

There are at least two incoming shipments a week each from the US and the UK.

The main trade, of course, is in recipe books of many different kinds, vintages, sizes, styles, genres and nationalities.

But Books For Cooks also carries titles that cover biographies, history, philosophy, anthropology, sociology, food science, humour, fiction, kitchen design, implements, wine, spirits, coffee, tea, health, etiquette and table settings.

And no doubt several more categories!

We even get around to discussing the merits (mostly Tim) and otherwise (mostly me) of MasterChef and its various offshoots.

But we end up in pretty much the same place anyway.

“Mostly I like peasant food,” Tim says. “It’s almost always brown …”

He definitely says that as if he believes it’s a good thing.

And which is why, within a few hours of getting it home, my new cookbook is prickly with stickies denoting my interest in recipes that are overwhelmingly to do with cabbage rolls, pulses of all sorts, hearty stews and simple salads.

Check out the Books For Cooks website here.

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East Meets West Lunar New Year Festival

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East Meets West Lunar New Year Festival, Hopkins St and surrounds, Footscray, Sunday, January 20.

As I head for the door and out on my Sunday outing, I very clearly say to myself: “Righto, time to go to work!”

Oh dear – this is a first!

Undoubtedly, I have always taken what I hope is a workmanlike attitude to doing Consider The Sauce.

But “going to work”?

That’s not the right frame of mind at all.

After all it’s a lovely sunny day, a cool breeze is blowing and the weather is of very noteworthy unextremes.

What could be better?

Well, that’s easy – street food and lots of it.

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I have my fill of it, too, as I mingle with the happy crowds and take in all the sights and sounds in and around Hopkins St.

And the aromas. Always the aromas. Of course.

In quick succession I fang a lovely chicken skewer, some delicate seafood mini-pancakes, another skewer of toothsome beef wrapped in vine leaves and a serve of a stodgy but satisfying fry-up of rice cake, egg and green onions topped with grated carrot and anointed with a light soy sauce.

Amid all the festival gaiety, I do notice, however, a certain sameness among the food stalls – take my items and throw in fried octopus tentacles, corn on the cob, sugar cane juice and several more varieties of skewer and you’re talking about 90 per cent of what’s available.

I wonder if such standardisation is something to do with logistics or health regulations.

I do grab a slice of chilli pork jerky.

And, of course, all the restaurants are open and doing a roaring trade.

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Jane, from Tim & Jane, the lovely coffee and chocolate joint in what was once the Royal Hotel, suggests the food is what it is because it’s festival fare.

They make me a fantastic cafe latte – strong, but not too strong; fantastic.

Tim & Jane is one of the very few places in Footscray Central serving Italian-style coffee, so makes a great stopping off point if that’s what you seek after eating elsewhere.

They’re open  8am-6pm Monday-Friday, 9am-5pm on Saturdays and 10am-4pm on Sundays.

You can read Ms Baklover’s story about them here.

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Dos Diablos Mobile Cantina

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Dos Diablos Mobile Cantina, Coulson Gardens, Chifley Drive, Maribyrnong, and many changing locations. Phone: 0413 616 771

Having left home well after the advertised opening time of 5pm, I am bemused to find no sign at all of the sexy red Dos Diablos truck.

(Confession: I did misread it badly – see comments below!)

Either they’re running awful late or I’ve completely misread the Facebook notification of tonight’s location.

After circling Coulson Gardens several times, I’m about to head home when the red beast trundles into view.

OK, I’m happy to cool my heels while get they get things rolling.

As I wait, and a few other customers drive up, I ponder the challenges of this food truck game that has made a significant impact on the westie food scene in a short span of time.

I doubt very much it’s as easy as it may appear from an outsider’s point of view.

And I wonder how scientific the various trucks get about choosing the right locations.

White Guy Cooks Thai seemed to get it just right on the night of our accidental meal with them in Seddon – a small park with heaps of shade and seating and a playground for the kids.

Coulson Gardens goes one better as it has toilets.

The Dos Diablos folk can’t do anything about the stinking hot weather, though there is a breeze coming off the river.

I know this park and the surrounding area teem with people on weekends, but I wonder how they’re going to go on a week night. All the customers I see during my visit with them arrive by car, so there are no casual, walk-up punters.

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The Dos Diablos menu is tight and succinct.

All three varieties of taco cost $6 each.

My carnitas is spicy, salty and tasty, and although the pork shows few signs of the advertised “slow-roasting” it is still fine.

The vego is more humdrum. I usually love black beans, but these seem awfully boring. I love food without meat, but can quake when confronted with the horrible spectre of “vegetarian food”. This gets pretty close.

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My small “papas fritas (seasoned fries)” are not my kind of deal at all. They’re chewy and heavily coated with some sort of variation of chicken salt. I can imagine some people thinking they’re crash hot, however.

The “Diablos ketchup” looks just like your regulation tomato sauce but is nicely spicy.

It’s been a satisfactory meal, but I suspect I’ve just found there are limits to food truck allure.

A serious appetite, for example, could go four of these tacos no problem – and that would start to get into significant cash output.

But I’ll continue to adore the concept and most assuredly enjoy the occasional outing with Bennie, even when the food doesn’t score top points.

After all, a sunny evening in a park, by the river or on a beach has a lot going for it all on its ownsome.

 

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Mister Nice Guy’s Bake Shop

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Mister Nice Guy’s Bake Shop, 151 Union Rd, Ascot Vale. Phone: 0424 422 878

The are no animal products at all in any of the goodies available at Mister Nice Guy’s Bake Shop – including the beverages.

So I am faced with the usually unpalatable prospect of having my cafe latte made with soy milk or the like.

OK, I’m game.

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My soy latte ($4.30) is pretty good – it’s strong and quite bitter in a good, coffee way. I’ve certainly had much, much worse in more orthodox and high-falutin’ coffee joints.

But there’s another kind of bitterness – just a whiff of something a little off.

Could I get used to it? Could I learn to like it?

Well, I’d certainly like to, because this is undoubtedly a place for which its worth cultivating affection.

My mini-cupcake ($2), for instance, is a delicate flavour bomb, with good chocolatey taste and lovely icing.

I restrict myself to that one small sample of the goodness going on here on account of having just completed a more substantial meal elsewhere.

But there’s much to oggle – a wide range of cupcakes, a pecan pie, brownies that exude serious intensity.

Bad luck if you’re after savoury filling here, though – as close as you’ll get are the cheesy scrolls made with vegan cheese.

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But it’ll be a pleasure to bring Bennie to such a sugary haven – and he’ll for sure dig the artwork that comes into its own once the 3D spectacles are donned.

The rest of the retro-styled decor and vibe are happy and friendly, as are the staff.

 

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Minh’s Vietnamese & Chinese

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Minh’s Vietnamese & Chinese, 41 Puckle St, Moonee Ponds. Phone: 9326 2228

My chicken coleslaw is all wrong.

Or rather, it seems all wrong.

The key component is iceberg lettuce. Or maybe it’s very finely chopped and extremely unfibrous savoy cabbage. Truth to tell, I cannot tell.

The chicken – an entire thigh, I think – has been grabbed from the bain marie chook section that looks like it contains the regulation chicken shop variety.

But appearances are most certainly deceiving in this case.

True, my salad lacks the tangy, lemony zip I am familiar with when ordering this dish from the Vietnamese eateries of Footscray. There’s no fresh chilli slices either, with some level of spice heat contributed by the sticky jam on the side.

But the flavours, while on the mildish side, meld together really well.

And the textures are full of crunch, too, with plenty of chopped peanuts, fried shallots, cucumber, carrot and more doing a swell job.

The modest looking chook is outstanding – it’s of supreme tastiness in the Asian style and there’s a heaps of it.

My small serve for $12 – there’s large available for $12 – is a great light lunch.

Minh’s is a small but often busy humble lunch spot on Puckle St, right next door to Chiba Sushi Bar.

Its goodies – displayed on a big photo spread on one wall and behind the counter – range across a surprisingly wide Vietnamese territory, from pho and rice and spring rolls, through to more generic Asian fare such as Singapore fried noodles.

If any of those dishes match the simple panache of my coleslaw, it could be that Minh’s is an easy-to-miss treasure in an area where it often seems classy exotica and spiciness are hard to find and the lines between good, OK and mediocre are blurred.

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Shadowfax Winery

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Shadowfax Winery, K Rd, Werribee. Phone: 9731 4420

Much earlier in our western lives, visits to Werribee Mansion became a regular thing.

Often such visits involved a meal chosen from the bar menu of the mansion hotel followed by a lengthy ramble around the lovely grounds and gardens.

That practice has fallen by the wayside as different places and attractions, as well as different circumstances, have seen us find new ways of living in the west.

Thus we have yet to review the mansion bar food, let alone the much more pricey main restaurant, though CTS has had a look at nearby Wyndham Cache Cafe and TeaPot Cottage Cafe.

Today, though, on a lovely, overcast yet far from gloomy day, it’s time for a visit to Shadowfaxy Winery.

Down a beaut tree-lined gravel road we find the rather imposing and angular metallic winery building, with the cellar door and restaurant at one end.

Despite there being space aplenty for us in the attractive, roomy dining, room, this time out we opt for the outdoor alternative.

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Close by a number of largish communal tables, there’s a herb garden, vines, a chook house and picnic rugs scattered over the lawn.

The menu – you can check it out in its entirety here – has a nice list of starters for $10-$20, pizzas for $20 and larger plates in the $20-$30 vicinity.

The mussels, pizzas and prawns we see around us look very toothsome, but we are happy with out sharing choices.

The beetroot, rocket and fetta salad (top picture, $9) is fabulous, with the glistening beetroot cubes – some of them the palest pink – nestling among good-quality leaves and creamy cheese, all adorned with just the right level of dressing.

Given the amounts of beetroot and fetta we consume at home, you can bet I’ll be attempting this dish at home soonish.

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Our tasting plate of “cured meats, seasonal vegetables, ricotta, polenta chips, house made grissini and focaccia” is a mixture of just OK and outstanding.

The salami and prosciutto suffice but are not particularly memorable, while the small splinters of grissini seem like little more than a garnish.

The standout component is the lemony ricotta, which is simply gorgeous smeared on the very fine bread.

Chargrilled courgette is a smoky wonder that puts the chewier and slightly bitter eggplant in the shade. The pickled, roasted red capsicum goes good with all.

Given the pricing of the rest of the menu, the $22 fee for our tasting plate is fine, but it is a little light on in terms of feeding the two of us – even with the salad.

However, all is fixed when we are brought an extra serve of bread for which we are not charged.

As we are paying for our meal, the staff inform us that new management has been running the show for about four months, there’s a new chef, the food is “a lot better” and that Saturdays are usually much, much more hectic than we’ve experienced.

The service has been fine for us, but it seems that if you’re contemplating a weekend visit, booking may be just the ticket.

As with previous visits to the mansion, our post-meal activity involves a walk around the grounds – in this case the sculpture garden and homestead buildings “behind” the mansion rather than the groomed prettiness of the mansion gardens proper.

We’re not sure how this works.

Entry to the gardens costs an admission fee when they are accessed through the official entrance, yet patrons of both the mansion eateries and the winery seem to have unpaid access.

Perhaps this annoys the hell out of Parks Victoria.

And perhaps the mansion hotel management and winery think it’s a fine arrangement.

 

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Random thoughts …

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This is my top, No.1 all-time favourite Christmas present of 2012.

So obvious!

So affordable!

So efficient!

So easy to clean!

Thanks, Bennie!

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It’s gratifying that my boy seems far more “connected” to his breakfast now that he’s eating from a batch of our muesli that he made all his own self.

Tonight – lentil soup a la Bennie!

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A lot of people seem to be enjoying the arrival of food tucks in the west.

We have yet to sample the wares of Dos Diablos, but have noted with pleasure the regular “sold out!” notifications posted by the team from White Guy Cooks Thai on their Facebook page.

On Friday night, we had a supreme example of just what a pleasure and a boon such an operation can be.

No photos, no taking of notes, no seeking of information – just a feed for a tired but otherwise very normal family.

With dad returning from a return to work and subsequently tuckered out, we’d picked up Greek salad makings for dinner, but really … not in the mood to cook.

We’d just turned into Gamon St from Charles, when Bennie yelled out: “White Guy Cooks Thai!”

A quick application of the brakes and a U-turn later and we were parked in front of the White Guy truck and ready to rock.

Hainan chicken and mango salad, with heaps of pomegranate seeds, for him.

He loved it, opining halfway through: “I’d like to know how to make this!”

Green vegetable curry with rice and coleslaw for me.

Quite spicy, light, delicious, with green beans, potato, pumpkin, eggplant and more.

A fantastic, affordable meal, the timing of which could not have been better.

How have your food truck experiences been?

Lasang Pinoy (The Filipino Cuisine)

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Josephine with the cup she won for having the best food stall at the 2012 Filipino Fiesta at the Melbourne Showgrounds.

Lasang Pinoy (The Filipino Cuisine), 12 Victoria Square, St Albans. Phone: 9364 1174

Whatever hiccups have attended Consider The Sauce’s exploration of Filipino food in the past, we can now happily put them behind us.

And it’s all thanks to a wonderful lady by the name of Josephine, who runs Lasang Pinoy in St Albans.

As much as anything, I think previous encounters went awry through not just sometimes dodgy or unsuitable food but also through a lack of engagement.

Now, I’m not sat saying such engagement was not possible or available in those other times and places.

But I am saying we failed to find it.

And it’s something Josephine supplies heaps of.

She senses right away our interest in her food and her eatery, making sure we are OK with everything and later explaining the dishes we had ordered.

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Her restaurant, situated in a court of mixed businesses about a block or so from Alfrieda St, bears still decor reminders of its previous incarnation as a Bosnian place, though Josephine has tempered it all with some colourful Filipino-themed artwork and posters.

For some weeks I’d become increasingly impressed with the pride and humour with which the restaurant had been touting its goodies on its Facebook page, so I am hopeful.

I’d stuck my nose in a couple of times previously, but this time around – with Bennie and good pal/neighbour Rob for company – Team CTS is determined to eat.

And so we do.

We’re delighted to share the dining spaces with a couple of tables of the Filipino family nature and revel right away in Josephine’s hospitality.

After getting a rundown on the contents of the bain marie – and studiously avoiding the more challenging (pork liver) dishes – we settle in for a tasty feast.

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Pork BBQ skewers – look black and burnt; are not.

Made with meat marinated in brown sugar, soy, vinegar, salt and pepper, they unsurprisingly taste unlike any pork skewers we’ve previously eaten.

They’re tangy and yummy. They’re also the only part of our spread that Bennie likes, the rest of it being a little too odd for him. He’s excused and granted permission to grab another skewer, pretty much leaving the rest of the meal to Rob and I.

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Beef kare kare, made with beef, canned banana blossom that looks like artichoke, eggplant and green beans, is my favourite.

The meat is quite tough but delicious, the broth and vegetables fine. Except for the disappointing eggplant, which seems woefully undercooked by my reckoning.

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Pork adobo is a simple dish packed with flavour from soy, vinegar and garlic.

I love the dark, sweetish broth, and the tender meat, too, after easily removing the fat.

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Fried tilapia, from Thailand we are told, is fish plain and simple.

Rob and I both like it a lot, making short work of the flesh, which comes away from the bony frame quite easily.

All our meal choices go well with a small side dish of pickles that are both sweet and sour.

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There’s quite an array of Filipino desserts on hand, but we restrict ourselves to sampling a single cheese roll. This appears to be another variation on the universal theme of fried dough. It has quite a strange flavour and is not as decadent as it appears.

After talking some more with Josephine, she lets us have a taste of her wonderful iced melon juice before turning Rob and Bennie on to a sugarcane brew of some kind.

I happily sit that one out.

Summarising our meal, Rob nails it – some of it has been unusual for mouths used to the other national flavours of South-East Asia, and maybe we could’ve ordered smarter; but we’ve had a plenty fine enough time of it to be interested in a return visit.

Especially considering the welcome and service.

And in terms of Consider The Sauce and Filipino food, that constitutes a breakthrough.

Even if the food does its level best to defy my photograph attempts to show it in a good light. It tastes better than it looks – honest!

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After showing Rob some of our favourite westie haunts, we stop off at Sweet Grass Bonsai Nursery & Cafe in Footscray West for relaxing, chilled-out mocktails – Black Widow for Bennie (he just can’t go past Coke and ice-cream) and tangy Sun Up and Bora Bora for Rob and myself.

What a grand day we’ve had!

 

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How evil are prawn crackers?

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Lunch after a school holiday swimming pool session with Bennie and one of his school mates.

A Chinese restaurant that has already appeared in these pages but that has no relevance to this post, so shall remain unnamed.

As we await our food, we are presented with a big plate of prawn crackers.

Chimp, chomp; crunch, crunch.

Halfway through the rapidly dwindling stack of snacks, I voice a not particularly original observation: “These taste like nothing!”

But then I think, to myself this time: “What are prawn crackers made of?”

Further, could it be they are actually made from the eponymous anti-matter “nothing” that is such a feature of the Garth Nix seven-book fantasy series The Keys To The Kingdom, which Bennie is just about to complete and I am just starting?

And if they’re actually made from prawn meat and other stuff, are there any really nasty ingredients as well?

And if not, are they good, bad or indifferent in health and nutrition terms?

I have a hunch that prawn crackers inhabit the same realm of foodiness, if not in practice then at least a little in theory, as seafood extender.

Some rudimentary sleuthing turns up first of all, and no surprise, a long story at the always informative if notoriously unreliable Wikipedia.

My loss I know, but my Asian travel experiences are virtually non-existent, so living in Melbourne’s west for more than a decade is as close I’ve gotten.

And that’s a pretty darn fine “second best”, IMHO!

Still, while I’ve had the more homely style prawn crackers served at Vietnamese places such as Phu Vinh, I am wholly unprepared for the information that prawn crackers – krupuk in Wikipedia’s preferred name – are widely and enthusiastically eaten all over Asia and beyond, with all the regional and national variations you would expect.

A little more digging turns up various forum discussions, recipes and ingredient lists.

The gist of it all, I gather is prawn meat combined with tapioca flour plus seasonings, including – according to many links – MSG.

But while it seems prawn cracker makings are mostly on the benign side, the cooking process – deep frying – is not.

Presumably, then, they’re on the same sort of footing as potato crisps.

I even find a celebrity recipe!

And a 2012 UK news story in which a company using another celeb chef was pinged for false advertising – no prawn in them thar prawn crackers, M’Lord!

More digging and things start to get seriously weird, as I start turning up questions such as “Can rabbits eat prawn crackers?”, “Can you feed your hamster prawn crackers?”, “Can you feed your hamster crackers and tuna?” and even “Do rabbits eat their own rabbits?”

Still, I reckon commercial variety prawn crackers are the food equivalent of muzak.

Eynesbury Homestead

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Eynesbury Homestead, 487 Eynesbury Rd, Eynesbury. Phone: 9971 0407

It’s not really blindingly hot outside – not as hot as it’s been or will be.

But it is getting up there.

Yet we’re happy, contented and oh-so-cool in the wide open spaces of the billiards room at Eynesbury Homestead, the substantial bluestone walls of which keep the heat at bay, no airconditioning necessary.

We’re having fun, using pool balls, of course.

So inept are we, our lack of skill exposed by a full-size table, that games seem to take forever.

But that’s fully OK – we’ve got nowhere better to be and nothing better to do.

The staff have delivered us a good cafe latte and hot chocolate, and our skill levels are creeping up with repetition and practice.

Besides, we’re thrilled to have confirmed our belief that no matter how deeply we explore Melbourne’s west there’s always something new to discover.

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In this case it’s a beautiful homestead, built in the 1870s and 1880s and situated in what seems to us like pretty much the middle of nowhere – drive past Caroline Springs, throw a left, keep driving, through the lovely Grey Box Forest, and there it is.

These days, the homestead seems to be operated in tandem with the surrounding golf course and real estate development. Although we know not just how these entities relate to each other.

Going by the homestead website, weddings are a big part of what goes on here, while the restaurant does lunches seven days a week, with dinner served on Thursday and Friday nights and breakfast at weekends.

The menu is short and simple, with cafe fare such as a parma or pie and chips running to the $15 to $20 mark. The kids menu has five items, all priced at $10.

We dine in the bright, modern atrium area, which is airconditioned.

Bennie orders the hamburger ($15.50).

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Well, golly gosh – that’s a surprise!

It’s good, too. The patty is big and fat, though seems low on beefy flavour to me when I try a mouthful. But he loves it.

The bits and pieces – including good, hot chips – all work well for him, though the bun crumbles and disintegrates, requiring a mid-meal reconstruction job.

Bennie hogging the burger option leaves me to pursue something different.

So I get the “lamb souvlaki with tomato, onion, cucumber, olives, feta & taziki sauce” ($15.50).

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I’ve spent a lifetime eating lamb of Mediterranean and Middle Eastern derivation, yet this meat looks like nothing I’ve ever seen as described as souvlaki.

Obviously, it’s not on skewers; nor does it appear to have been carved from a spit.

In fact, what it seems like is roast lamb shaved from leftovers from the previous day’s Sunday carvery spread.

I’m assured that’s not the case – and that there was no lamb served at the carvery. But suspicions linger, fuelled by the presence of rosemary leaves.

Worse still, my lamb is profoundly cold.

Back to the kitchen it goes – a real rarity for me.

Bennie has departed for the pool room when my replacement meal arrives, so I contemplate alone a dish that appears to include more of the same lamb, only this time browned-off quickly in the kitchen.

I really would like to make the most of this in a half-full spirit – the lamb mixed with the yogurt sauce and melting cheese is enjoyable enough, after all.

But there’s a factor that takes my meal from barely acceptable to disaster area – the olives are those pre-chopped, black and nasty numbers found in feral pizza shops.

They taste dreadful, clash with all the other flavours and simply don’t belong in any eatery at all, let alone one purporting to serve a dish with suggestions of Greece about it.

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I’ve buried the description of my disappointing lunch as far down the story of our Eynesbury Homestead visit as I can, for the simple reason that as ordinary as it’s been it barely detracts from our enjoyment of the establishment, its gorgeous grounds and gardens, the obliging service … and the complementary billiards room.

Indeed, so enamoured are we with the place, we wonder if it’s possible to act upon a spur of the moment inspiration to spend the night.

After all, the vibe here is very similar to that of Werribee Mansion, where both digs and evening sustenance can be purchased.

Alas, we are told the nearest accommodation is to be had in Melton or Bacchus Marsh. Or Yarraville …

And, as previously mentioned, the restaurant does dinner only two nights a week.

Still, what a find!

 

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A smile for the customer? Priceless.

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So I see one of our favourite places is about to re-open after the festive hullabaloo.

I wish I could say this is cause for jubilation.

But it’s not.

I fact, I’m beginning to realise that perhaps it’s not one of our favourite places after all.

Because, despite the outrageous excellence of the joint’s food – and they charge for that excellence, but not TOO much – truth is eating there is a downer.

Such joyous tucker is served by the staff  – and orders and payment taken – with such morose countenances, without exception, that it’s impossible to escape the idea they’d far rather be somewhere else.

I could laugh this off or dismiss it as punter paranoia, except for the fact I’ve read online comments by another customer indicating they get exactly the same impression.

Upon reading those comments, my immediate thought was: “Ah – so it isn’t just me!”

Another place, much closer to home, has also fallen somewhat out of favour with us.

Unlike the first business, those associated with the second know who we are. We’ve written about them. Very nicely, I might add …

But we don’t want to be treated like royalty. We don’t expect favours because we do Consider The Sauce. And we certainly don’t want obsequiousness.

We just want to be treated like the regular, local, paying customers we are.

Yet every time we are in there we see the majority of customers treated with wide smiles and welcoming chat, rather than the pursed, unsmiling lips and brusque, businesslike approach afforded us.

Sheesh!

Quick Stop Cafe

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Quick Stop Cafe, 146A Mickeham Rd, Tullamarine. Phone: 9335 3040

A business meeting of sorts is to take me, for the first as far as I’m aware, to Sunbury.

After studying the whereabouts of my destination and the ways of getting there from Yarraville, I resolve to give the ring road and Calder Highway a miss and go for the ease of the $14 toll route instead.

It’s then that I recall a tip-off from Juz, No.1 leaver of Consider The Sauce comments, about a kebab joint just off Mickelham Rd on the way to the airport.

Now there’s a handy lunch option for my return post-meeting travel!

Sadly, the joint is closed – maybe it’s too soon after the Christmas/New Year hullabaloo for a cheap eats establishment to open when situated in an otherwise drab light industrial precinct.

So I go tooling off along Mickelham Rd to see what, if anything, this part of the world offers by way of foodiness.

It’s within only a block or so that I spot Quick Stop Cafe. The size and style of the signage is so similar to that of the unopened place suggested by Juz that my immediate thought is that the business has simply shifted to a site with more potential drive-by customers.

Upon entering, I soon discover that is not the case.

Still, I resolve that – come what may – this will be my luncheon venue.

Quick Stop does a range of takeaway kebabs, some eat-in plates and even some keen looking Turkish-style breakfasts, such as the Menemen Breakfast of “lightly pan-fried pepper, tomato, cheese with egg” for $8.

I order the $12 chicken plate solely on account of the fact I like nicely, deeply tanned look of the chook going around and around behind the counter.

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As I sit back to await my meal, I look around this small and very basic cafe, which I surmise does a good lunch trade for tradies, drivers and the like, and revelers of various kinds and sobriety later at night – all of which, I subsequently discover, is indeed the case.

A handful of the aforementioned tradie types order after me and depart with their takeaway goodies before I lay eyes or teeth on my meal, and I am beginning to feel a little forgotten.

It turns out the slight delay has been caused by the house rice being completed.

And what rice it is – still slightly al dente, nicely salty and studded with heaps of short bits of vermicelli.

It goes real good with the chicken off the spit, which is not as crispy as I have been expecting. It IS delicious, though, and of surprisingly un-oily texture.

Both rice and chook, in turn, are super fine with the tangy, fiery chilli dip and the more mundane cucumber and yogurt number.

All of which goes to show you can never run out of surprises when it comes to getting a good, affordable feed in Melbourne.

I enjoy talking to the staff, including the boss, Amber, before departing in the somewhat sad knowledge that it will surely be a long time before I’m in this neck of the wood again.

 

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Hyderabad Inn

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Hyderabad Inn, 551 Barkly St, West Footscray. Phone: 9689 0998

As detailed in our Top 10 list for 2012, western suburbs Indian eateries played a big part of our foodiness pleasure last year.

Inevitably, keeping up with newcomers meant some old faves went unvisited.

Indeed, our earlier review of Hyderabad Inn is almost two years’ old – so it’s high time for a revisit.

The room seems unchanged – clean, spacious and a little on the clinical side.

The prices have crept up – the average curry price seems to clock in about the $13 to $14 mark.

But Hyderabad Inn has heaps going for it.

The menu is long and with many bases covered – you can go the whole bang-up meal routine here with curries galore, or choose to go the snack or street food route.

The place even has a separate menu for dosas and the like, including a plethora of combo deals.

But I’ve dropped in today to pursue my interest in my current favourite thing – biryani.

Will the Hyderabad Inn rendition compare favourably with the dynamite dish recently enjoyed to extremes at Vanakkam?

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The answer is yes.

My chicken biryani is in the higher realms price-wise at $12.95 and the advertised fried onions really are garnish rather than a flavouring addition.

Those small quibbles aside, all is good.

The accompanying pots of raita and gravy are much larger than is the norm elsewhere.

The raita is thicker than usual and laced with long strands of carrot and cucumber.

The gravy is quite creamy and seems to a have peanut flavour to it.

I later am told that is indeed the case

The mix is made specifically for biryani duty and contains peanuts, coconut, tamarind, white sesame seeds, tomatoes and chilli.

The chilli is a tad redundant, as the rice itself is plenty hot – kid-friendly food this is not.

I discover, too, that the black herb scattered throughout the rice is actually mint that has changed colour in the cooking process.

The chicken content generously amounts to a drumstick and a bone-in thigh, both tender and tasty.

This is my kind of biryani – I need all the bells and whistles for this dish to work for me.

A plate of spicy rice isn’t enough.

As I arrived, there was only one other table hosting customers.

As I leave, there are four more busy doing the biz for family groupings.

 

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Glory We Cafe

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Glory We Cafe, 3/76 Old Geelong Rd, Hoppers Crossing. Phone: 9394 8845

If we lived anywhere in the vicinity of Glory We Cafe, we’d be habitual visitors for sure.

In other words, we’d feel compelled to turn a blind eye to the overwhelming use of plastic cutlery and containers.

Why?

Because this neat Asian cafe with a fast food vibe inhabits a part of the western suburbs of dismal foodiness, so much so that this is our first Hoppers Crossing story.

On one side of Glory We is an unlovely piece of Old Geelong Rd that is a seemingly endless string of discount furniture stores, while on the other is a small local shopping strip and all around are soulless supermarkets and car yards and parks.

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Glory We sells a hybrid mixture of yum cha and dumplings, Asian snacks and sweet drinks, and larger but still very cheap plates of the laksa and nasi lemak variety.

I’m told our yum cha selections are imported but our chicken rice and curry puff are made in-house. But we’d much rather live with brought-in dumplings than disposable implements!

The Taiwanese-style chook ($6.90, top picture) – served on a disposable bento tray with rice, mayo and salad – is truly fine, tender and beautifully seasoned.

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Bennie likes the prawn and chive dumplings ($4.80 for three), but I prefer the small pork dim sims ($3.80 for four) – they’re chewy in the right kind of way and flavoursome.

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I leave the “good” pork bun ($1.80) to Bennie as I dive right into a fabulous curry puff ($2.40) – lovely pastry, big chunks of vegetables and even some hard-boiled egg, with a mild curry sludge holding it all together.

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Bennie loves his ice shaving lemon fig jelly ($4.50), his wide straw perfect for sucking up the jelly blobs, though he confesses it’s more lemon than fig.

My boy’s growing adoration of weirdo Asian beverages is of significant budgetary concern.

Glory We Cafe on Urbanspoon

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Stag’s Head – beer every day

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Stag’s Head, 39 Cecil St, Williamstown. Phone: 9397 8337

Whatever the merits or otherwise of Williamstown as a food destination, we very much enjoy cruising the suburb’s back streets, especially those around the beach and its station.

There are heaps of lovely old homes and buildings to be eyeballed and the area seems to be defying whatever gentrification and “progress” is taking place nearby on Ferguson St and Nelson Pde.

One such building is the Stag’s Head, first built in the 1860s and reconstructed in 1887.

It’s a golden oldie and feels like it, even if the current management, fit-out, locals and food aren’t quite of that vintage.

It feels oh-so-comfortable, right from the threadbare carpet and bar full of nick-nacks through to wooden floors seemingly springloaded with age and comical signage.

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Even better, there’s a perpetually free pool table. Maybe it costs that little because at either end there’s walls that get in the way of sensible cue management.

Whatever – one of our games is abandoned because of the arrival of our lunch and Bennie beats his father in the other on a mere technicality (sinking white off black).

There’s a more formal dedicated dining room and a sunny courtyard, but we’re happy to perch on bar stools for our lunch visit.

The menu is compact, runs to two sides of A4 and includes “old favourites” such as chicken parma and  porterhouse for $20, three salads for $15-18 and five lunch dishes for $12.50 apiece.

From the lunch list we choose salt and pepper calamari and fish tacos.

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Bennie’s calamari is really fine – tender, mildly seasoned and of extreme yumminess when dipped in the lovely aioli.

Only problem is, for a lunch dish it’s light-on, with only a small rocket salad with a few parmesan flakes to accompany.

Maybe the key here is to make sure of a dish’s heft before ordering if one is keen of appetite.

In any case, Bennie for sure could’ve done with an equivalent serve of the chips that come with my tacos.

As it is, he makes do with a bag of beer nuts from behind the bar.

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My fish tacos are wonderful.

The fish – hoki from New Zealand – is mildly flavoured but goes beaut with the tomato salsa, red cabbage, chilli sauce and coriander.

The taco shells are, I suspect, store-bought. But I’m cool with that, especially as each taco maintains its structural integrity right down to the final tasty mouthful.

With the good chips on the side, I really enjoy a lovely light meal that seems priced just right at $12.50.

By the time we leave, I’m wishing the Stag’s Head was our local.

Stag's Head on Urbanspoon

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Bennie and Kenny go to Avalon Raceway

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It was the corn dogs what swung it.

For the past year or so, Bennie has displayed increasing indifference and even passive hostility to the idea of getting out and about in pursuit of sport.

Rebels, Storm or All Blacks?

Maybe.

Heart, Victory, Socceroos or – heaven forbid – T20 cricket?

No way!

But somehow he intuitively knows an outing to check out Avalon Raceway will be more to his liking.

And when his question about the likely availability of corn dogs is answered in the affirmative, it’s a done deal and off we go on Boxing Day.

Actually, it’s been at least three decades since I’ve had one of those battered critters, so I’m quite open to having one myself.

More pragmatically, I expect the food offerings to be on a par with what’s available at AAMI Stadium, but probably not as good.

As far as the racing goes, I’m not a serious petrolhead by any means, though I’ve always had a soft spot for what I consider to be the blue-collar, everyman variations – as opposed to the billionaire playground that is Formula One.

On that basis alone, I’m up for it.

We get to the track just before 6pm and I’m quite impressed by the number of cars and people already in attendance, even though the “hot” practice laps are just about to start.

Most punters, including many families, appear to have brought their own furniture and/or food.

Not us, of course, though we nevertheless find a cool pozzie against the fence, with wooden sleepers to park our bums on when we’re not eyeballing the racing.

Where we’re at, on corner three, means we’ll be splattered with mud for the rest of the day/night, but after a while we barely notice. Bennie thinks it’s all an absolute hoot.

Various groups around us utilise different and innovative ways to protect themselves from the slung mud, ranging from blankets and umbrellas to screening pinned to the track perimeter fence.

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The food situation turns out to be every bit as dire as I had expected – at first.

A single shack is selling hot dogs, pies, dodgy looking chips – with gravy for $6 – and that’s about it.

There’s not corn dog in sight.

Bennie later rates his hot dog as a six, once again raising for me doubts about the veracity of his rating system.

The chips are underdone, limp and awful.

My Routley’s beef pie is not hot enough and just OK.

Our food and drink costs us $15, which isn’t too bad. We’ve certainly spent more for worse at sports events in the past.

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Like speedway bikes, sprint cars have no transmissions.

And – according to this informative story at automedia – nor do they have differentials, the lack of which is covered by having the inside rear tyres significantly smaller than their outside equivalents.

We’ve packed ear plugs, though they turn out to be non-essential. But I do keep mine in for most of the night.

The sprint cars – ranging from about six up to 18 per race – put out a deep rumble in the laps leading up the green flag. The racing tenor itself is, of course, a good deal higher pitched but still quite pleasant when compared to the killer dentist-drill mosquito-whine pain of F1.

And even Bennie enjoys the racing.

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We don’t know one driver or car from the other, of course, but what with bearable noise levels, the smell of burning race fuel, some torrid racing and numerous bingles and prangs, it really is quite thrilling.

The cars are shunted on to the track by ATVs then push started by a team of utes.

It’s a buzz being so very close to racing vehicles yet feeling quite unthreatened. I suspect the cars may not be going as fast as they appear to be, and certainly no drivers are hurt in the various mishaps.

And still the mud flies!

After a half-dozen or so heats, I leave Bennie at our pozzie and go for a wander.

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Punters can get a beer at Sliders Bar – VB for $4 – but they don’t appear to be doing great business.

Maybe because all booze must be consumed “in-house”, although the racing can be watched on TVs while doing so.

A little further on I stumble upon the Dirt Track Diner.

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The food here appears to be somewhat different but of similar standard – think wilted burgers and leather-tough fried dim sims.

But wait – there’s more!

Yes, they have corn dogs.

I buy a couple for $5 each and make my way back to a wildly grinning Bennie.

He loves his and devours most of mine.

I’m disappointed. I expect the outer batter costing to be crispy – instead, it’s rather doughy.

I discover, courtesy of this informative piece at Wikipedia, that corn dogs appear to have originated in the US in the 1920s and that they have become a multicultural, multinational foodstuff.

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And so it goes …

I’m surprised we make it right through to the evening’s conclusion, the 18-car Gold Cup final.

Then we make a hasty exit, beating the crowds and getting on to the highway home in about five minutes.

For a family day/night out, we can recommend a visit to Avalon Raceway. Our tickets prices of $25 and $5 certainly compare real well with any significant sports event in Melbourne.

You may want to pack your own picnic lunch/dinner, though Bennie snorts with contempt at such a suggestion.

Sophisticated juice vending machine

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Wonder juicing machine, Moonee Ponds.

If this apparatus – situated in one of the generic mallways off Puckle St – simply dispensed juice it would not have grabbed our attention.

But this one does more than that – it squeezes the oranges to make the juice, too!

This is a new one on us, even if that does make us look like westie rubes.

For sure, we’ve got to give it a go …

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We’re not keeping precise score, but as far as we can tell about four or five of the smallish oranges go into our small glass of juice.

We don’t actually see them being squeezed, that part of the procedure being hidden from view.

But the whole operation goes really smoothly.

The juice is excellent – chilled and pulp-free.

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Had the full price of $3.50 been charged, we may have been hesitant. But we figure the “summer special” price of $2.50 is pretty much what a dedicated juice joint would charge anyway.

The receptacle is plastic, but what can you do?

It’s only later that a couple of questions occur to us:

Who cleans the machine?

And how often?

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