Tag Archives: Melbourne

Famous Blue Raincoat

9 Comments

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Today it’s pork:

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

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

And the unexpected – two lovely bits of beetroot.

All are beautifully cooked.

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

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

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

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

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

Is that a parallel universe or what?

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

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

Perfect!

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

The Famous Blue Raincoat website is here.

Famous Blue Rain Coat on Urbanspoon

Hong Kong Noodle Bar

Leave a comment

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

There’s a good supply of bok choy.

As for the meats …

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

The pork is sinfully rich, fatty and delicious.

It’s a cracking lunch for $8.

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

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

I wish we had one in our immediate neighbourhood.

Hong Kong Noodle Bar on Urbanspoon

Salaam Namaste Dosa Hut

6 Comments

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

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

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

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

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

Bemused, maybe.

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

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

That seems a long time ago now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You would be wrong.

This is a killer dish; a sensation.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It matters not – I love every mouthful.

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

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

Salaam Namaste Dosa Hut on Urbanspoon

Filming Love To Share

3 Comments

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So what am I doing here?

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

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

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

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

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

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

My table companions are Amber and Jess.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The rest of the crew are admirably professional, too.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s been an entertaining and enlightening experience.

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

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

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

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

The Plough

12 Comments

The Plough, 333 Barkly Street, Footscray

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

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

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

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

Footscray foot institution to close its doors

3 Comments

Anyone with one or more children knows how hard – and expensive – it is keeping them shod in good footwear.

Actually, that applies to anyone of any age in this era of cheap and nasty “runners” that require replacing about four times a year.

So it’ll be a sad day when Hicks Shoes in Barkly St closes its doors – it’s long been a provider of good-quality and affordable shoes of many kinds for all ages.

Sure, they stock budget-priced lines from various parts of Asia, but they also stock shoes, sandals, boots and more from Europe and elsewhere. 

Happily, the family store in Altona (72 Pier St, 9398 2939) will remain open.

The business was started 64 years ago by Eric Hicks, who is 94 these days, at 209 Barkly St and has been at the current premises, 203 Barkly St, for just under three decades.

The business is run by Eric’s son and daughter, Julie and Murray.

Julie tells me the closure has more to do family reasons than with escalating rents or the current economic climate.

Indeed, the family owns the building, plans to retain ownership and has already fielded several inquiries from potential tenants, including possible eating houses.

The closure is still several months away, as the decision to close was made only about eight weeks ago and after the summer stock had been ordered.

I dig my new Converse sneakers!

The Real Greek Souvlaki

3 Comments

The Real Greek Souvlaki, 315 Brunswick St. Phone: 9417 1414

More than two years, way more than 300 posts … and no Greek eateries on Consider The Sauce?

There’s a few reasons for that, I reckon.

One is that they’re not thick on the ground in our immediate neighbourhood and only slightly more common in the greater west.

Another is cost.

Not that Greek restaurant in Melbourne are necessarily out of our budget reach – though a couple in the west certainly fall into the “special occasion” category.

It’s more that we mostly feel we can get pretty much the same flavour hits from very similar food that is of the Middle Eastern derivation at significantly lower prices.

As previously noted, that sort of much-loved thing is not ubiquitous in the west, either; hence our regular journeys to Coburg!

So it’s lovely to visit The Real Greek Souvlaki in Brunswick St.

We reckon it is right up there with the best Greek restaurants in Melbourne, with perhaps only the absence of seafood counting against in terms of comparison with its more formal counterparts.

That’s an assessment that may surprise its regulars.

Because this place, I’m certain, finds a really, really big share of its turnover coming from the souvlakis that are also known these days as wraps.

Most of these would be sold, I’m equally certain, at hours when we’re sure to be tucked up in bed and are no doubt especially brisk sellers around closing time … if Brunswick St actually has a closing time.

But you can get sit down plate meals at the Real Greek Souvlaki – and at prices much lower that at more famous Greek places, including one just a few blocks away.

Moreover, just on the basis of its wonderous displays of mouthwatering Greek meze, this establishment deserves to be regarded far more highly than as a mere souvlaki joint, regardless of its informality and basic stock in trade.

This extensive range of pies, pasties, dips, stuffed vegetable, pickles, balls, salads and more starts in the exterior window display …

… and continues inside …

Perversely, today I feel like a Greek meal of far more basic type – lamb from the spit, salad and chips.

It’s terrific.

The chips are just OK – a little flaccid and heavily chicken-salted, but hot and very edible.

The salad is fine and includes enough olives and sharpish fetta cheese to satisfy.

The lamb is superb – crunchy, top-of-the-line delicious and cuddling up to your basic garlic/yogurt sauce.

I get all this for $17 – including an extra dollop of chilli dip and a small dolmade.

The chilli dip is more like hot pepper dip, so has only a mild spice kick but is very piquant and just plain great with the meat.

I wish there was a whole lot more of it.

Fresh On Young gets a revamp

1 Comment

Fresh On Young, 34 Young St, Moonee Ponds. Phone 9375 3114

Fresh On Young – the subject of the second Consider The Sauce story – remains a reliable favourite for us.

It’s a bit out of the way, but when it fits in with our rambling, it’s a fine place for great prices and produce, fresh and otherwise, of many kinds.

So we’re excited to note the place is undergoing a significant revamp that involves use of space, until now used for loading/storage purposes, that will in effect double the width of the premises.

When I talked to him, manager Lee was reluctant to give too much away before the unveiling in a couple of weeks’ time.

But the gist of it seemed to be an accent on an extended fresh meat and seafood section.

He cited the retail environment, including of the ongoing Coles/Woolworths battle, as being proof aplenty that standing still is tantamount to going backwards.

Konjo Cafe & Restaurant

Leave a comment

Konjo Cafe & Restaurant, 89 Irving St, Footscray. Phone: 9689 8185

It’s a passing mention of Konjo Cafe at Footscray Food Blog that has seemingly and subconsciously steered me to Irving St, despite having pleasantly meandered along many streets and alleyways since parking at the market a half an hour before.

I’m very happy to find it open for business at lunchtime on a Monday, despite the upheaval presented by the heavy-duty roadworks currently underway right outside.

I’d popped in once a few months previously, so am used to the idea a limited menu may be available – the handful of dishes jotted down on a small blackboard doesn’t phase me.

From that list I choose lamb kai wot, which is described as “spicy lamb stew simmered in berbere”.

I soon discover the blackboard choices are mere suggestions and that the full menu – see below – is available.

The menu seems to have all the usual Ethiopian bases covered, with all but one dish selling for $12 – at the end of 2012, that seems like really good value.

No matter, I’m happy with my choice – especially once my request for a little salad on the side is granted.

That turns out to be the zingy jumble of cos lettuce, tomato and green chilli slices I was hoping for.

The kai wot is only mildly spicy but the gravy is rich, quite oily/buttery and delicious; the lamb is in small pieces and plentiful.

A single piece of injera suffices, and I even leave a little of the kai wot – it’s a serve that should really be shared between two diners in tandem with a vegetable dish or salad proper.

My cool lunch matches the cool cafe vibe here – the furniture is dark wood, the tables long-legged to match the stools. There is seating of a more traditional-style in a rear room.

The service is warm and obliging. The volume of the sweet African music is just right, too.

I’m told the roadworks are as much a pain because of the dust and noise as they are for deterring customers.

Still, no doubt just like the other restaurants and businesses on this stretch of Irving St, they’ll be very happy when the work is completed.

Flat-screen TVs: No.

Konjo Cafe & Restaurant on Urbanspoon

Crowded House

3 Comments

 

Crowded House, 48 Ferguson St, Williamstown. Phone: 9397 5526

With its copious amounts of vintage wood, open kitchen and hip vibe, Crowded House no doubt is a magnet in an area of many worthy but often uninspiring eateries.

Thankfully on this Saturday lunchtime, the feeling is far from being one of trendier-than-thou, with a cheerful hubbub surrounding many happy tables of folks, including a lot of families, tucking into various meals and post-noon brekkies.

We find the service terrific and the wait time for our meals pleasingly brief.

We’re only after light meals, so I steer Bennie away from the more substantial fare and towards the blackboard menu of paninis and bagels.

He does good with his panini of “bacon, egg, jacks cheddar and mayo” ($9.50). The mayo looks decadently scrumptious.

He rates his classy, sophisticated BLT variant “yum out of 10”.

Seeing as the soup of the day, parsnip and carrot ($13.50), is being served with “artichoke chips”, I am expecting something a little sexy on the side to join the Phillippas toast.

So I am disappointed when the chips are more like shavings that act as little more than a garnish. 

The soup is fine – it has good parsnip flavour and tastes quite peppery.

But the admission price doesn’t seem to equate to particularly good value for money, especially when I see some of the more substantial meals about us.

We specifically eye with envy the “tempura calamari salad, chorizo, roasted capsicum, olives, roquette, fetta with lemon and olive oil dressing” and the “lamb koftas with traditional tabouli, hummus, labna and pita”.

That both these and half a dozen other meals (see menu below) are selling for $17.50 would seem to constitute a sooper dooper bargain.

Next time, you bet!

Flat-screen TVs: Nope.

We depart happy to have spent time in this cool cafe, if a little wistful about menu items untried.

Next job for the day is to deal with the messy result of some inept, clumsy parking skills by our driver – that would be me.

It’s at this point we discover our new(ish) car lacks a jack.

Oh how we wish we’d done the flat-tyre business before lunch – then we could’ve enjoyed supping as we waited an hour or so for the RACV …

Crowded House on Urbanspoon

Mona Castle Hotel

8 Comments

Mona Castle Hotel, 53 Austin Street, Seddon. Phone: 9687 7636

It’s the end of the working/schooling week and we’ve made it through in pretty good nick.

But the cook – that would be me – is sick of cooking.

Besides, we’ve skipped the grocery shopping on the way home.

Worse still, a classic, typical Melbourne “false spring” has been and gone, and it’s grim and bleak outside.

Getting something delivered doesn’t appeal, either.

What to do?

Oh well, I gee both of us up and we head for the car, knowing not at all where we’re headed.

It proves to be one of our joyful spur-of-the-moment outings.

As will be obvious to anyone who spend more than a couple of minutes perusing Consider The Sauce, pub food isn’t really our “thing”.

Nevertheless, we have eaten at the Mona Castle a few times – twice in the more formal dining room and once from the bar menu.

But all of those occasions are now just dim memories.

After this visit, though, we think: “Why did it take us so long?”

There’s been talk in the past year or so about the death of neighbourhood, inner-city pubs, especially in the western suburbs.

The Mona Castle seems to be happily bucking that trend.

The big public bar space is already busy early on a Friday night as we enter, with about half the merry crowd seemingly adorned with fluoro work gear.

The staff are wearing monogrammed Mona Castle shirts that also bear a strong resemblance to the colour scheme of a certain local AFL team that will not be competing in any of this weekend’s finals matches.

We give the more formal and expensive dining room menu – you can see it at the Mona Castle website – a miss and head straight for the blackboard bar menu.

Oh, gee, what a surprise – Bennie orders the hamburger ($14).

For his father, it’s pie of the day, which – according to the daily specials list next to the blackboard – is tomato and beef and which also costs $14.

The main bar area being jumping and well on its way to being jammed, we adjourn to the back bar, which is festooned with yet more sports memorabilia and is gradually accepting the bar overflow of patrons.

After a gratifyingly short time, our meals arrive.

Bennie’s burger is a mountain teetering on the very edge of the wooden board on which it arrives.

Indeed, as he attempts to get to grips with his sandwich, runny egg yolk oozes from the board to the table.

No matter – this is just the sort of two-handed burger he loves so much these days as the pre-teen growing spurts come and go.

“MMMmmmm, beefy taste – it was yummy,” he says the next day.

He gives it eight out of 10.

My pie turns out to be a real surprise – instead of beef and tomato, it’s chicken curry.

No matter about that, either.

Why return a perfectly good pie to the kitchen, when life’s a lottery anyway?

The pie, in a ceramic dish, is lava-like hot and contains heaps of chicken pieces along with chunks of potato and carrot. The seasoning, of course, is regulation curry powder, but frankly anything more funky or sophisticated would be grossly inappropriate.

I like my pie a lot.

My salad is fine and fresh, with an extremely lemonish dressing.

Our chips are good, but could be a tad hotter and are way, way over-salted.

We’ve loved our dinners and we love the homely, cheerful and welcoming vibe of the Mona Castle.

For a quick, hassle-free and cheap feed it strikes us as a winner when we’re not inspired to travel further afield for anything more exotic.

And as far as pub food goes, the bar menu certainly is an attractive proposition, especially when there’s goodies such as corned beef to try.

And don’t you just reckon this is the sort of place that will do an awesome spaghetti bolognaise?

Flat-screen TVs: Yes, heaps of them.

Mona Castle Hotel on Urbanspoon

Tandoori Flames

6 Comments

Tandoori Flames, 15 Vernon St, South Kingsville. Phone: 9078 2769

“So very disappointing, the place seemed to be full of family.”

This line from a recent diner’s comment about a new Yarraville eatery springs immediately to mind while we are enjoying our dinner at Tandoori Flames in South Kingsville.

Look, I know there’s horses for courses when it comes to restaurants, and that some folks like a quiet time.

Others are looking for a romantic vibe.

Others, too, don’t dig kids cluttering up cafes … and others again think flat-screen TVs have no place in any kind of eating establishment at all.

I’m sure it’s possible to have a quiet time at Tandoori Flames and even a romantic dinner, if that’s to your liking.

But based on this Father’s Day evening, you’d probably aim for a night earlier in the week.

By the time we’re halfway through our meal, the place is packed and the staff are very busy.

Even better, a passel of kids – half of them in-house variety, half of them customer offspring – are cavorting merrily all over the place and even playing tag between the tables.

No one minds.

No one cares.

No food is spilt.

Everyone is happy – including us!

And I see just a single admonishment issued to the young man who is the senior member of the group – something along the lines of, “Keep it down a little, eh?”, I presume.

I had earlier asked this character, who was polishing cutlery with his sister, how much he was getting paid.

His reply was instantaneous and emphatic:

“I don’t get paid – this is my restaurant!”

This would be Harnoor, son of Tandoori Flames proprietor Jimmy – and we’ll let them settle the ownership details.

We’re here as Jimmy’s guests (full disclosure below).

We were always going to make it to Tandoori Flames at some point, but his email spurred us into action – yes, we’d love to join the throng for Father’s Day dinner.

Jimmy tells me he and his crew have been at these premises for five years and that previous to that the building housed, variously, a Yugoslav social establishment, a sports club and a gay/lesbian hangout called My Sisters Lounge.

The interior is quite different from what I am expecting.

An irregularly-shaped room, plain brick walls, exposed beams, chandeliers, dancefloor and even a disco ball.

It’s funky and welcoming and we feel right at home.

As we enter, the band is cranking out – much to my surprise – a rowdy version of Cannonball Adderley’s Mercy, Mercy, Mercy.

After that, they throttle back for wide-ranging mix of soul and pop covers that sit right well with the crowd – by the time we leave, the dancefloor is doing good business.

In his email, Jimmy had stated: “I would love to serve you with our speciality items …”

So we take the bold option of leaving our meal in his hands, just mentioning that we’d like to try some stuff from the tandoor oven and a little seafood.

This proves a mistake – but not because the food we are provided is bad or even unenjoyable.

I just wish I’d kept my wits about me and said: “Please, Jimmy, no butter chicken!”

Being only a moderate fan of paneer, chilly paneer lazeez ($14.90) – “cottage cheese cubes battered fried then wok fried with shallots, bell pepper soya sauce and red chilli sauce” – finds only moderate favour with me. I actually prefer the accompanying vegetables more.

But, to my surprise, Bennie really likes the paneer, happily stabbing successive cubes until our next platter arrives.

Tandoori mixed grill ($19.90) is the goods and one of two outright food highlights of our night.

“Seek kebab”, like shish kkofta and nicely chewy but maybe a little on the dry side.

Two succulent lamb cutlets.

And, best of all, chicken tikka and tandoori chicken.

The various bits of chook are outstanding and juicy.

Maybe a little less of the lurid orange of typical tandoori chicken, and a whole lot more herbs and spices and a big flavour whack of lemon.

And all the meats go even better with the onions into which the cooking juices have soaked.

We scarf the lot, no problem.

Butter chicken ($15.50)? This is probably a good version, but it’s simply not my thing – or even of much appeal to Bennie.

Tender chicken, but it’s so rich and so sweet!

(Any ideas why this is THE dish most people order in Indian restaurants?)

Dal makhani ($12.50) is creamily rich, too, but the blend of black lentils is silky and smooth.

After all that richness, prawn malabar ($17.90) comes as a relief and is our other big thumbs-up for the night.

There’s a lot of prawns, every one of which have that “bursty” thing going on that fine prawns always do.

The gravy is just right – coconut-based and laced with mustard seeds and flavoured, too, with curry leaves.

Our meal is completed by one apiece of good garlic ($3) and mint ($3.50) naans.

We’re full and then some – but, naturally, Bennie has no problem finding room for his tall glass of jelly, ice cream and fruit that goes by the title of Tutti Frutti.

Aside from getting a couple of dishes we wouldn’t normally choose – no one’s fault, that, except mine – we’ve had a ball at Tandoori Falmes and really adore the happy family vibes.

There’s Indian music of a more restrained variety on Friday nights and belly dancing on Saturday nights.

And, yes, the place has a couple of wall-mounted flat-screen TVs!

Check out the Tandoori Flames website, including menu, here.

Our meal at Tandoori Flames was provided free of charge by the owner in return for a story on Consider The Sauce. The food we enjoyed was chosen by the management. Tandoori Flames had no editorial control of this post.

Tandoori Flames on Urbanspoon

Wyndham Cache Cafe

Leave a comment

Wyndham Cache Cafe, 1 K Ave, Werribee South. Phone: 9742 1526

The first official day of spring is supposedly later in the week, but it sure feels like today should be so anointed.

The sky is mostly blue, studded with big, white fluffy clouds.

The sun is shining and for the first time in a long while – too long – I am not rugged up in the heaviest jumper I can lay my hands on.

Perfect, in other words, for a relaxed spin to a location I think of as one of the west’s country sojourn’s when you don’t really want to go bush.

It’s possible to get a country vibe going from the western suburbs with relative ease and in short time – think the wonderful Point Cook Homestead, for instance, or TeaPot Cottage Cafe at Werribee South.

Wyndham Cache is a rather quirky and charming – in its own way – cafe/restaurant about a kilometre past the turnoff for Werribee Mansion.

An outgrowth of a long-established polutry business on the same site, it does breakfast and lunch seven days a week and dinner on Fridays.

The ambiance seems to show the influence of the joint’s association with a small business of another, eggy variety entirely, with two sets of electric doors leading through to a rather clinical canteen-style dining room, its severity leavened by lovely country vibe service and a plentitude of photos depicting historic people, places, buildings and scenes from the area.

The menu ranges from wraps, sandwiches such as BLT ($14.50) and four salads at about $16 up to mains starting at $17.50 for the wagyu burger and going on to the likes of  pan-fried salmon ($22.50) and steaks for $25.

It’s a clever menu.

Unfortunately, in the rolled-dice gamble that is table-for-one dining I come up empty-handed.

There’s reasons why I very rarely order a steak sanger – and this one ($16.50) now joins that list.

Regulation white sliced bread, routine cheese slice, OK caramelised onions, some rocket and a tiny portion of meat – it’s mightily underwhelming.

It’s about what I would expect from a corner takeaway establishment for significantly less.

But the chips are good and hot, and I gobble each and every one.

That I have been lumbered with such a mediocre lunch is galling, because I see other tables with what appear to be fine meals – fish and chips, antipasto platters and even the dreaded and much over-rated wraps all look good.

And it’s hard to believe the burger – at just $1 more – could be so shabby.

Oh well – still worth a return trip with son in tow.

Check out the full menus at the Wyndham Cache website.

Wyndham Cache Cafe on Urbanspoon

Early heads-up: Combined FFB/CTS Spring Picnic …

Leave a comment

In its two years and counting, Team Consider The Sauce has enjoyed eating with, meeting and getting to know a variety of characters.

Inevitably and happily, a goodly number of them have been food bloggers or folks otherwise deeply involved in cyber foodiness.

We’ve even met some of them at a couple of blogger picnics and other outings.

As cherished and revered, though, are the many regular visitors who have left so very many entertaining, supportive and enlightening comments.

We’ve met a few of them, too!

And we love sharing a vision and purpose with Lauren aka Ms Baklover of Footscray Food Blog fame, whose advice and support has been invaluable.

So … we’ve decided to arrange a combined FFB/CTS Spring Picnic.

This will be held to coincide with the Yarraville Farmers Market in Yarraville Gardens on Saturday, October 27.

The market runs from 8am-noon, so we’re provisionally planning on picnic time being 10am until … whenever.

This way, we can all relax and enjoy meeting folks without the hassles and angst that go with arranging a more formal restaurant-based gathering.

And if you don’t want to bring your own eats, there’ll be goodies available from the market, as will coffee.

There’s a barbecue, toilets and a playground for the kids.

Stay tuned for further details, but get it in your diaries!

Biryani House

Leave a comment

Biryani House, 339 King St, West Melbourne. Phone: 9329 4323

Things change, bringing new routines and vistas.

Some work in Media House, requiring a two-minute walk from Southern Cross Station after a breezy 15-minute train ride.

Long may it last …

Another employment prospect requiring visits to the North Melbourne, West Melbourne, Vic Market area.

These may not qualify as western suburbs territory, but getting to them sure feels a lot more like nicking down to the neighbourhood shops than would getting to anywhere near Spring St, so I’m not complaining.

And, of course, there’s a lot of ever-changing foodiness going and worth exploring.

Business beckons, but before I heed its call I head across Flagstaff Gardens for a place on the CTS hit list.

I’ve long ago made my peace with the seeming fact that restaurant biryani is not perhaps always – if ever – what biryani should be.

I don’t care about tiresome debates about authenticity, and really like – for instance – the biryani at Indi Hots in Footscray.

And I have high hopes of a good rice meal at a place named after the dish is specialises in.

It’s a cheerful CBD cafe-style eatery that attracts a wide range of workers from nearby offices and workplaces. A lot of them are Indian and the service is brisk.

I’m surprised – maybe even a little shocked and dismayed – to be presented my chicken biryani ($9.90) minus any curry gravy.

It’s explained to me they’ve run out of the gravy specifically made for biryanis, but that I’m welcome to an equivalent pot of sauce from one of the bain marie curries.

That’s cool by me, and in fact the sauce from the chicken madras is just right for the job, with a nice, rich texture and flavour and nowhere near as fiery as its name suggests.

The raita is good, too, in that lovely, runny way that is commonplace with restaurant biryani.

The rice is more of a uniform yellow than is the norm, which is a mix of yellow and white grains. And it’s bit more moist than usual.

But it’s fine, redolent of the expected perfume of cinnamon and cardamon.

The chicken is a single maryland from a very small bird, but happily there’s enough flesh for a satisfying lunch and the meat comes from the bones with ease.

Heat levels in my biryani are typically rather high, but not overly so.

Just as good a bet here seem to be the regular curries served in combos ranging from $6.90 up to $8.50.

For the lower price you can get a single meat curry or two vegetable curries and rice – quite a deal considering the heaping size of the serves I see around me.

The paneer and peas is very popular.

Biryani House on Urbanspoon

Al Sharouk Woodfired Oven

Leave a comment

Al Sharouk Woodfired Oven, 544-546 Mahoneys Rd, Campbellfield. Phone: 9359 5773

On a previous, mid-week visit to Al Sharouk with Bennie and Nat, we’d been greeted by a well-stuffed Middle East-style grocery but little by way of eat-in food – or, at least, none that tempted us sufficiently to linger.

Second time around, and flying solo, my desires are a little different.

Lunch, a meal, for sure – but I’m also seeking some specialised Middle East ingredients.

This is so I can roll up my sleeves and get cooking some of the marvellous recipes in Delights From The Garden Of Eden by Nawal Nasrallah, an epic Iraqi cookbook I received in the mail a few days earlier.

This tome – packed with recipes for mostly home-style Iraqi food, countless anecdotes and much food history going back several thousand years – has been secured on the no-doubt righteous recommendation by Annia Ciezadlo in her cool book Day Of Honey.

I feel sure Delights From The Garden Of Eden will be the cause of many, many future years of pleasurable reading and cooking.

But I feel nonplussed as I step through the door of Al Sharouk and discover … that it is now all restaurant and no grocery.

Oh well – I take an upbeat, half-full approach and thoroughly enjoy my lunch and talking with Al Sharouk proprietor Martin.

He’s an Iraqi Christian who moved to Australia more than three decades ago, although his Campbellfield eat shop has been open for just nine months.

It’s no surprise, then, he knows all about the ingredients I seek – baharat, a spice mix that is a sort-of Iraqi equivalent of garam masala; and noomi basrah, which are dried limes.

Martin reckons I should have little trouble securing them from the likes of Al-alamy in Coburg or International Foods in Altona.

As he’s expressed an interest in having a quick look at my new book, I scarper back to my car as he’s knocking my lunch together.

There’s a range of salads and dips on display. Pies and pizzas from the mighty wood-fired oven are available, too.

But I quickly zero in on the two stews available – one a pale number with lamb shanks, the other more of a tomato-based effort with lamb on the bone and chickpeas.

I go for the latter, which turns out to be a variation on Iraqi stews called tashreeb. These are traditionally served on a base of flat bread.

But I’m plenty happy to have mine with Martin’s rice, which he calls an Iraqi biryani.

It’s beaut and studded with peanuts, peas, currants and – most appropriately – the dried limes called noomi basrah, which impart of sublime tartness. Think of something along the lines of a mild Indian lime pickle.

This is very homely food much to my liking – the rice riches work well with the tashreeb chickpeas, and I even get a silky, tender whole onion.

But that’s not all – my single piece of lamb is superbly, predictably tender and toothsome.

Martin has two kinds of chooks getting the heat treatment from his spit pit – the first lot are whole stuffed birds referred to in Delights From The Garden Of Eden as Pregnant Chicken; the second are butterflied birds in lemon and garlic.

I buy a half animal of the latter to take home, but wish I’d gone with a whole of the former – they look so plump and sexy, and are likely a fine bargain at $12.

Other than that, I forget to check prices – suffice to say Al Sharouk is a genuine cheap eats haven, as my lamb rice lunch, a can of soft drink and half a chook to go come to $22.

It’s been cool meet Martin and enjoy some of the kind of food I soon hope to be cooking my own self.

Al Sharouk Woodfired Oven on Urbanspoon

Incident on a train

4 Comments

Missed this weeks Epicure section in The Age.

No biggie, but still …

Rude as it may seem, I couldn’t help but glance at the copy a passenger next to me on the train from work was reading.

My eye was caught by a long single column of responses by readers to a question about what are the top signs you’ve entered a Bad Restaurant.

Top of the list was … flat-screen televisions.

What?

What kind of parallel universe is that?

In our world, wall-mounted flat-screen TVs are a harbinger of delicious food on the way.

South American soccer games, Viet song and dance extravaganzas, Bollywood epics and – recently for me – even Fox News (sound off, thankfully) in a Foostcray Ethiopian place.

What could be better?

I even had the temerity to voice these opinions to the Epicure lady.

She seemed bemused I’d been surreptitiously reading her newspaper – but that’s better than snarky.

As we neared a station and she prepared to depart the train, she even presented me with her “pre-loved” copy of Epicure, God bless her.

I asked her where she lived; locally, obviously.

So I gave her a Consider The Sauce business card.

I hope she checks us out.

The Shed @ Terindah Estate

1 Comment

The Shed @ Terindah Estate, 90 McAdams Lane, Bellarine. Phone: 5251 5536

Scooting down the freeway, Geelong-bound, I am almost giggling with the joy of it.

This is quite different from the sometimes frenetic trips that until so very recently saw me making this journey for work purposes.

Because we are not headed specifically for that city, but through it instead for a lunch date on the Bellarine Peninsula.

I’ve roped in Brother Kurt for the experience and we’ll be meeting my pal and former Geelong Advertiser colleague Jane at Terindah Estate.

The catering, food and function aspects of the property have recently been assumed by Rue Cler Market, and it is as that outfit’s guests that we will be having lunch (full disclosure below).

Kurt and I are so busy playing catch-ups that carefully selected CD choices barely register and in what seems like mere minutes we are trundling down bumpy, rustic McAdams Lane, turning right into the grounds of Terindah Estate instead of left into Jack Rabbit Winery.

Unsurprisingly, the place is beautiful, the centre’s buildings looking out on vines and fields rolling gently down to the bay, the Melbourne CBD skyline visible on one side of the panorama, the You Yangs peeking through the trees on the other.

The place undeniably has an air of new business arrangements being bedded down.

So much so, we wonder if these folks have been a bit hasty in inviting a blogger and his mates down for a feed, especially when we lay eyes on the very succinct blackboard men.

Happily, our lunch more than makes up for menu brevity with class and quality.

We three make ourselves at home in a corner table of the vast, bright and airy dining area before mulling our lunch choices as sourdough, focaccia and olive oil are placed before us. 

Our first foray into Shed tucker is a sublime delight and triumph – the produce plate is not your typical antipasto platter.

That they sell it for $14 makes it a preposterous bargain.

Its contents are all locally sourced, fresh as can be and uniformly superb.

Smoky, tangy discs of Otways chorizo.

Tomato relish.

Creamy chevre.

Sweet, oh-so-tender steamed mussels.

Baby vegetables – spring onions, carrots, turnips – that manage the lovely trick of being both profoundly and lightly pickled, meaning the original flavour of the vegetables can be enjoyed.

Calamari strips, supremely unchewy and tender, and equally skillfully pickled.

Brilliant!

An adjacent table for two has received an identical plate of goodies, so it’s not like we have been given favourable treatment. Just saying …

As we await our main course, unbidden we are presented with a lovely blue cheese and potato pizza ($14).

This simple affair goes a long way toward blunting my cynicism about the cost/benefits of thin-crust Italian-style pizzas.

Blue cheese very flavoursome but not overbearing, slices of purple congo spud evincing real potato taste, base not particularly thin but fresh, crusty and easy on the fang.

Kurt and I both choose the bay whiting with fennel salad ($22).

The fish is delicate of texture and taste, and very good.

The whiting works well with the fennel, but I am less convinced about the somewhat strident addition of grapefruit segments.

It’s a very spartan meal – another element or some more obvious salad dressing would’ve been welcome.

Jane likes her mushroom gnocchi ($18) – they’re roly poly, tanned and slightly crispy on the exterior, almost molten inside, and the way is smoothed with more of the chevre that graced our entree plate.

Kurt gleefully works his way through much of the wine list – he expresses fondness most of all for the chardonnay – with details provided by property owner Peter Slattery.

Jane enjoys her sticky date pudding ($6).

By this point, I’m fully full, so opt out of the dessert stakes – but I do nick a spoonful, just for review purposes.

The pudding is light and fresh, and the sauce is, well, super sticky.

The Shed @ Terindah Estate shapes as a handy, relaxing and affordable option in the fiercely competitive Bellarine winery scene.

The September 2 Father’s Day deal – $40 for adults, $10 for kids – looks like a great deal, for instance. Check out the Terindah Facebook page for details.

And certainly, I’d return in a heartbeat for another shot at the terrific $14 produce platter.

It’s been a hoot to catch up on the goss with Jane, but she’s off on other business.

Kurt’s happy to kick back, enjoy the moment and talk with the staff.

After a good cafe latte, I go for a ramble around the grounds, even making it right down to the bay beach.

Eventually, to the strains of the Flying Burrito Brothers’ classic third album, we zip across the peninsula to Point Lonsdale, where we dwell for a while watching a ship enter through the heads and seals frolicking in the surf.

After swinging through Ocean Grove, we head home with some raunchy, classic and wisecracking southern soul from Joe Tex for company.

What a cracking day we’ve had – thanks to all concerned!

Our meal at The Shed @ Terindah Estate was provided free of charge by the owner in return for a story on Consider The Sauce. With the exception of pizza noted above, neither staff nor management knew what we were going to order. The Shed @ Terindah Estate has not been given any editorial control of this post.

Charitable Vegetarian Restaurant

3 Comments

=

Charitable Vegetarian Restaurant (Quan Chay Tu Thien), Shop 11 Alfrieda St, St Albans. Phone 0435 397 129

Mock duck, vegan ham, vegan crispy chicken?

I’ve always been a bit sniffy about the concept of “pretend meat”, even if it is a venerable Asian tradition.

We love, eat and cook quite a range of non-meat food, especially Indian at home.

But I’ve long held that if we are to do without meat, then let’s not pretend … so to speak.

I now suspect my ambivalence about mock meat has had quite a lot to do with the fact the Chinese food is not way up high on our list of favoured cuisines – and it’s with Chinese cooking that I most associate these kind of products.

Because I find that when they are matched with Vietnamese food, my whole outlook is transformed.

I am intrigued and tickled pink as I take in the menu at Charitable Vegetarian Restaurant.

Pho, rice paper rolls, vermicelli, “beef” stew, crispy “chicken rice – the menu is packed with Vietnamese staples done in ways that are completely free of meat and seafood.

But whatever broadening of my mind that is transpiring here, I play it safe by ordering a dish that looks like it’ll be a very close cousin of its non-vegetarian version – bun bi cha gio (8.50).

Instead of shredded pork, there’s shredded tofu.

The spring rolls are much more genteel and smooth of interior than I expect, with none of the crunch and texture of nuts or mushrooms I had foreseen.

There’s lettuce, grated carrot, mint, peanuts and bean sprouts, of course, along with the vermicelli, and the accompanying chilli sauce adds a good seasoning kick.

It doesn’t quite have the same flavour kick of the various meaty versions, but a degree of subtlety is only to be expected.

But it’s a nice change, even if a certain mealiness becomes more apparent as I near the end.

It’s big serve and I don’t quite leave my bowl clean.

It’s not until later that realise there’s been no onion or vinegary tang. Perhaps the spiritual and philosophical outlook of the place prevents it, though I notice there are menu items that include garlic.

I’m very interested in this place in general and what’s in those spring rolls in particular.

But I find the robed and smiling staff are no more adept at English than I am at Vietnamese.

So we’re at a stalemate until I gently accost a customer seeking a takeaway lunch, and discover that, yes, she speaks English and will be only too happy to help out.

The spring rolls contain, I am told, nothing more than vegetables and tofu.

The restaurant has been open since late July.

It’s a Buddhist establishment, basically – as the name indicates – being run as a charity, with all the cooking done by monks and nuns.

My lovely translator, Mo, tells me she herself is Buddhist, as are her parents.

She says that while younger generations of Vietnamese are less likely to embrace such spiritual or food traditions, among older generations she believes adherence may be even higher than 20 per cent.

I’m excited about the idea of exploring the menu further – there’s Singapore fried noodles, some good-looking salads, steamboats, straightahead vegetable dishes such as sauteed pumpkin leaves and a whole lot more (see full menu below).

If anyone tries it, please let us know your hits and misses!

There seems every chance Charitable Vegetarian Restaurant will become a magnet for vegetarians, not only from the western suburbs but from all over Melbourne.

Thanks, Mo, for being so gracious about being asked to provide translation aid!

Sweet Rice again …

2 Comments

Sweet Rice, 102 Millers Rd, Altona North. Phone: 9315 3691

Having enjoyed our debut meal at Sweet Rice in Altona, with Consider The Sauce buddy Keri for company, we are keen to return to explore the menu further.

Truth is, yours truly dominated the ordering procedure on that visit, and not all that skillfully, either … we ended up with a lovely meal that was nevertheless dominated by fried items.

This time around, we’re joined by our lovely next door neighbours, Rob and Ming.

I am determined to order the green mango fish – for the simple reason it’s been tipped as the menu highlight by Andy of Krapow, which specialises in Thai food.

That’s good enough for me!

Other than that, I tell Ming and Rob, I plan to take  strictly hands-off approach – they can figure it out with Bennie.

So that’s what we do … and we have fine old time.

No entrees, five mains including a salad, rice.

The quantities and quality are all pretty much spot on, and our choices arrive in as quick time as can be expected..

Grilled beef salad ($9.90) has exactly the sort of zingy flavour, without much by way of a chilli hit, we are expecting.

But in other ways this dish puzzles us, as we are all used to Thai salads being made of much more finely chopped ingredients, or with meat that is finely shredded or comes in a crumbly mince form.

Here, the beef is simply larger slices of wok-cooked meat and the vegetables are equally large pieces of lettuce, cherry tomatoes and onion slices.

Nice, though.

Red curry chicken ($9) is smooth and creamy, with plenty of chicken and vegetables, including cherry tomatoes, capsicum and juilenned bamboo shoots.

But it seems almost shockingly mild in its seasoning levels.

Nice, too, but is this another case of an eatery catering to suburban takeaway expectations, perceived or otherwise?

Green mango fish ($12.90) – thanks, Andy! – is the big flavour hit of the night, even winning favour with the usually fish-hating Bennie.

A more than adequate array of crispy-battered and finely cooked fish fillets (we forget to ask what kind) are buried beneath a cheerful wig of mango strands, onion, chilli rings and coriander.

There’s a big lemon hit and everyone is happy.

You’ll be unsurprised to know that sweet and sour pork ($9, top photo) is a Bennie nomination.

But you may be surprised, as we are, that this dish – a Thai twist on a Chinese cliche – goes down a treat.

There’s little by way of sweet or sour, but the sticky sauce goes well with the light, ungreasy and nicely chewy battered pork pieces.

Prawns with chilli and basil sauce ($10.50) provides, at long last, the spice hit for which we have seemingly been yearning.

Indeed, the chilli levels are a bit too high for Bennie, but it’s all good and there’s plenty of prawns.

Oddly enough, I must have been suffering from chilli deprivation, because the remnants of the red curry chicken taste better after a run-in with high spice levels.

We’ve enjoyed a really nice meal that has never really reached stellar heights but that for sure places Sweet Rice in a niche significantly above your average suburban Thai restaurants.

Matched with incredible prices – our dinner for four, including three soft drinks, just barely tops $60 – and it’s easy and right to classify Sweet Rice as a true gem.

Thanks to Rob and Ming for the company and lending us their tastebuds!

Sweet Rice on Urbanspoon