Luna 1878 – Vic Market at night

4 Comments

Luna 1878 Night Market, Victoria Market

A normal school week requires quite a degree of discipline for us to survive with aplomb.

School, work, school and work lunches, homework, two rugby practices, dinners to be cooked, sufficient sleep to be had, alarms to be set, breakfasts to produced – there’s a lot going on.

But it takes only a slight shift in emphasis, especially in winter, for a nice, tidy routine to become bleak drudgery.

So, of course, we are adamant about taking the occasional opportunity to throw off the shackles and hit the town.

Thus it is we find ourselves happily skipping towards Victoria Market with food and fun on our minds.

There’s been night markets going on here for several years, but this is our first outing – well, our first as  a team anyway; Bennie attended a few years back in the company of others.

The night festival setting is superb and lovely.

The lighting, the gloom, the excited chatter of the punters, the rain pounding on the roof – and most of all the swirling of numerous cooking aromas cooped in by the roof – all contribute to a profoundly glamourous, sophisticated vibe.

We know full well that such a dynamic can distort and inflame the appetite adrenaline and that we’ll probably order a lot of stuff that will fall short of outstanding. And that, in some cases, similar and much better food can be had for significantly less just a few blocks away.

But we don’t let that transgress on our fun as we enjoy a couple of hours of what seems like rather naughty pleasure.

There’s a meatball stall with amazing giant woks of bubbling balls. There’s a Polish stall doing pierogi and the like. There’s wine and beer and even mulled wine.

But the dominant theme seems to be overtly carnivorous, what with American-style BBQ, Argentinian BBQ and Spanish, Sicilian and Colombian stalls all cooking up a storm to a meat beat.

The biggest thrill of the night comes as Bennie spies the ribs at the BBQ stand.

“That’s what I want!” he says with enthusiasm.

They’re also doing pulled pork, but ribs it is – in what, AFAIK, is Bennie’s first taste of this style of food.

At a price of $14 for five ribs plus coleslaw, they’re not cheap but they are good and tender and tasty. And we wangle a sixth rib so we can share equally.

Bennie absolutely loves them, just sharpening my anticipation of the pleasure that will be experienced when I eventually take him to the other side of town for a splash-up meal at Big Boy BBQ.

Calling the rather scraggly and mostly undressed cabbage and carrot strips “coleslaw” is a bit of stretch, though.

Our friends from La Morenita are in attendance, doing chorizo and empanadas and more, but we choose to move on to the less familiar.

We have a $5 plate each of Colombian marinated chicken-on-a-skewer, three cassava balls and a dab of whipped avocado.

The chicken is superb, the cassava nicely chewy, a little bit bitter and very filling.

There’s two back-to-back Asian stalls, one with a Viet flavour, the other Malaysian.

From the former, Bennie grabs and gobbles a small serve of chicken ribs – $5 for four.

From the latter, I secure what is called Sarawak laksa for $10.

It’s a thinnish and nicely spicy broth. There’s a heap of goodies, including lots of rolled-up segments of omelette, but sadly the plentiful and handsome-looking prawns are tasteless.

All the while, Bennie has been agog at the tantalising array of sugary stuff available.

He finally settles on a bretzel from Kingsville’s Bretzel.biz.

His choice is chocolate-filled, topped with nuts and slathered with more chocolate … and he loves every mouthful.

And seemingly every one of those mouthfuls is recorded by a keen photographer who takes a fancy to the spectacle of Boy Eating Dough With Extras.

Appetites finally sated, we wander about for a while enjoying the sights and sounds and smells.

But we head home happy well before the more formal musical entertainment of the evening commences.

After all, it is a school night.

Luna 1878 night markets at Victoria Market will be held on August 22 and 29.

Beatrix

1 Comment

Beatrix, 688 Queensberry St, North Melbourne. Phone: 9090 7301

Like so many people, I have mixed feelings about Facebook.

On a macro level, some of the politics, ethics and sneakiness just plain creep me out.

On a micro level, I’d have to say it’s a fabulous tool.

Tool being the operative word.

It’s there to be used, in my book. If you want to use it, that is.

If you don’t … um, then don’t.

And please, let’s have no more lame-o opinion pieces about FB, social media and the end of the world as we know it … written by people, I’m pretty sure, who are as fixated and rude in the use of their mobile devices as those they criticise.

I’m delighted with the way my use of Facebook has evolved into a multi-pronged, life-enhancing … tool.

I’ve “liked” a slew of western suburbs organisations that hip me to all sorts of events, festivals and happenings that I would otherwise be blissfully unaware of.

Likewise, I’m always up to speed on the special events, menu changes, specials, news and sometimes whacko humour (Hi, Adam!) from a wide range of eateries and food suppliers.

Thus, while the initial inspiration for a visit to North Melbourne cafe Beatrix has most certainly been a drool-encrusted post by Ms Bakover at Footscray Food Blog, what gets me in the car and headed that way is the joint’s fabulous Facebook activity.

Each day, the Beatrix folks post details of that day’s goodies, particularly their sandwiches. This is Facebook newsfeed of seriously seductive proportions.

The sandwiches are small in number – just two a day – but packed with allure.

As I joyfully discover, that allure is of real and magnificent substance.

It’s a tiny but chic place, but as I am reliably early, finding a seat at the window counter is no problem. By the time I leave, it’s considerably more crowded.

The day’s heavier, richer offering involves sardines. Tempting for sure, but I go for the lighter, cheaper and unmeated option.

The Ricotta (large $12, small $10.50) is described as “Simply warmed That’s Amore ricotta, caramelised onion, radicicchio and black olive”.

My large sandwich is perfection is every way.

The bread is fresh and warm, yet happily minus the sometimes gum-shredding factor that often comes with ciabatta loaves.

The sweet onions are the perfect foil for the astringency of the sparingly used olives and the bitterness of the leaves.

The ricotta is smooth and creamy – more about texture than flavour, and given the other protagonists, that’s perfection, too.

It’s a super sandwich and experience.

If this is taking the science and craft of sandwich-making, and doing so with a small but rotating list of superb ingredients, and turning them into an artform, then all I can say is: Bravo!

The cakes here looking killing, too. Maybe next time with Bennie for company – he’ll love the place for sure.

And maybe the go here for paired-up dining is what I’ve seen a couple do today – a large sandwich and a slice of cake, shared.

Meanwhile, tomorrow there’ll be another unrelenting Facebook missive from Beatrix; and another one the day after that; and so on.

There is, it seems, no escape.

Except maybe clicking on “unlike”.

As if …

Beatrix on Urbanspoon

Gulati’s

1 Comment

Gulati’s, 23 Harrington Square, Altona. Phone: 9315 9655

The process of stumbling upon Gulati’s had been an unusual one.

Reading online news stories about a shocking, brutal incidence of urban violence, on one level my mind had been in something akin to shock.

On another, it had been asking questions: “Book shop? Harrington Square? Altona? What?”

Some quick twiddling with Google maps soon verified the whereabouts of an Altona nook on which we’d never laid eyes.

More quick twiddling – this time with street view – allowed me to play cyber rubbernecker.

Ambling around the square with my mouse, I soon gazed upon the book shop in question.

And right next door – Oh, yes! – was an Indian restaurant.

A few weeks later, and I am standing in the car park of Harrington Square, a medium-to-small suburban shopping precinct.

Book shop? Check. Indian restaurant? Check.

Even better, on the other side of the eatery is a Thai joint, while another of Indian persuasion lies across the square.

Gulati’s itself is quite different from the cheap eats/takeaway shack I had in my mind’s eye.

In fact, it’s quite chic and a pleasant space to spend some time in.

Gawd – there’s even cloth napkins!

(This is usually taken by us a symbol of fine dining …)

This means I’ll be spending more than had been anticipated when setting out on my eat-and-run Saturday night adventure.

But what the hey – I figure a low-key Kenny treat is definitely in order.

The service is friendly but a little on the slow side to begin with – but that’s OK; it is early in the evening.

Gulati’s is pretty much a straight-up suburban Indian eatery with all the usuals, including tandoori goodies, and none of your dosas or Indo-Chinese options.

Meat/fish mains cost $12, vegetable mains $9.50.

I break my own “plain naan only” rule by ordering onion kulcha ($3) and am really happy to have done so.

The small onions pieces add a sweetness and complexity to a very good piece of bread that has a nice chewiness to it.

Machere jhol ($12), described as “fish cooked with eggplant – a taste of Bengal”, is marvellous.

There’s a goodly number of small, boneless and firm but beautifully cooked cutlets of what I subsequently discover is rockling mixing it with tender, delicious chunks of eggplant.

I later discover online numerous versions of this Bengali recipe, but there are so many variations I find it hard to discern any single theme.

And none that I find include the mustard seeds that provide such a fine pop and texture to the lovely and apparently unoily curry gravy of my dish.

My plain rice ($2.50) is OK, the raita ($3) thick and creamy and with scant cucumber quotient.

As I wrap up a most enjoyable dinner, Gulati’s has become companionably busy with locals.

I envy them having this place as a local.

In the meantime, I’ll have to return on another day to peruse the book shop.

Given the scarcity of book shops in the west, I’m excited by the prospect

Gulatis Indian Restaurant on Urbanspoon

New York Minute update …

2 Comments

New York Minute, 491 Mount Alexander Rd, Moonee Ponds. Phone: 9043 1838

Just a couple of weeks after first visiting New York Minute, word is out that the full menu line-up is of offer.

It’s time to return to check out their list of American-style sandwiches.

Saturday lunchtime becomes a cheery social occasion, with yours truly joined by foodie-all-over-town Nat Stockley, Ms Baklover of Footscray Food Blog and her girls.

My Brisket On A Roll makes a nice lunch, but it’s not something I’ll order again.

The cold beef is OK and accompanied by a Picalilli-style pickle; the advertised cheese seems to have made no appearance.

The chips are something else again – and a big step up from that first visit, going from satisfactory to near-sensational.

They’re hot, crispy but tender inside – it’s a good thing Ms Baklover relents and orders a big bowl for her brood, or we could’ve had a riot on our hands.

She and Nat both order the Pulled Pork Roll with “creamy coleslaw and smoky BBQ sauce” (top photo).

Their sandwiches look damn fine to me and I’m envious.

But thy both mention a sweetness in the sauce that becomes tiresome as their meals unfold.

The girls share the Philly Cheese Steak, which I foolishly don’t nail with a usable photograph.

Somewhat to my surprise, as we are organising our departure, Ms Baklover opines that it has been the best of the lot; so that’ll be my lot next time out.

I suspect New York Minute may struggle to impress ardent and picky fans of such American-style sandwiches.

But I’m not complaining after splitting while having paid a mere $14 for sandwich, terrific chips and a a full-size can of that Coca Cola stuff.

See earlier story and menu here.

New York Minute on Urbanspoon

GRAM birthday party

3 Comments

Prime Creative boss John Murphy looking chuffed after successively opening a round of beers as dessert is served.

GRAM birthday party, Malvern.

It’s midweek, it’s a full moon, I wish it was on a Friday night … but I am looking forward to the GRAM birthday party.

It’s not so much a celebration of the magazine itself as a party about its eventual handing to the stewardship of Prime Creative Media.

As a food blogger, I’ve been involved from the magazine’s earliest days and am happy to have an ongoing involvement.

In the face of some resistance, I even wrote a piece expressing my support – you can read it here.

The party is in a function room far from my usual stomping grounds, the finger food is good and the beer is free.

I take the earliest opportunity to quiz Prime Creative Media boss John Murphy about how GRAM is going, given that it has expanded to Brisbane and Adelaide, Sydney is on the way and national distribution not too far away either.

Prime Creative boss John Murphy with GRAM editor Danielle Gullaci and yours truly.

I dig, too, catching up with Roberto Cea, whose brainchild GRAM has been and who has enjoyed an ongoing relationship with his “baby” as it has been rolled out in other cities.

Roberto Cea, Maria and yours truly.

I enjoy hanging with Nat Stockley, my handbag for the night. Sorry, buddy, none of the pics worked out. It was a challenging situation, as I’m sure you understand.

I believe there are other bloggers in attendance, but get to talk with just a few before bedtime deadline looms.

I forget to take a GRAM showbag with me as I depart.

Oh, well, it’s been cool and a treat to attend the sort of party that not so long ago was a weekly, almost daily, part of my life.

Dahon Tea Lounge

13 Comments

Dahon Tea Lounge, Shop 5, 111 Cecil St, South Melbourne. Phone: 9696 5704

Other business having necessitated a visit to St Kilda Rd, it’s a satisfying to stop in South Melbourne on the way home and finally get around to a visit to Dahon Tea Lounge.

It’s here I’ll renew my sometimes rocky relationship with Filipino food.

The place is done out in a comfy yet quite sleek cafe style.

Things start very well.

A single skewer of BBQ pork ($2) is just right – tender meat, smoky flavour and an easily acceptable level of oiliness.

The delight and pleasure in the ability to order a dish containing okra mean I pay scant attention to the rest of the menu options, ordering instead pinakbet with rice ($9.20), the former described as “Filipino vegetable stew with okra, bitter melon, snake beans, pumpkin and eggplant”.

Reflecting on my meal as I write, I figure there’s only really two viable scenarios here.

One is that this is a typical, average, good or even excellent version of this Filipino staple and that fundamentally this is a dish not for me.

The other is that it is simply awful.

I am thoroughly underwhelmed.

There seems to be little impact by way of garlic, ginger, onion or shrimp paste.

And there seems to be little or no overall harmony in my meal – just a bunch of vegetables carelessly slapped together.

There is very little of the okra that triggered my order.

If this were to be served in a vegetarian cafe, it would be ridiculed.

The most abiding presence is a nasty bitterness – caused not only, I suspect, by the bitter melon but also by the undercooked eggplant.

I can go with the flow of slightly cooked beans and even pumpkin – but undercooked eggplant?

I subsequently look at a lot of photos, read a lot of recipes and even watch an interesting cooking video, and realise that, yes, what I have been served very much resembles a real-deal pinakbet.

Filipino food and me – seems like we could do with some sort of mediation. Or a mutual pledge to stay well clear of each other.

Or maybe next time I simply need to order one of the good-looking Dahon baguettes.

Or anything else on the menu.

Dahon Tea Lounge on Urbanspoon

Yes, but is it authentic?

7 Comments

A comment on our review of Kawa-Sake and a couple elsewhere got me thinking about the notion of authenticity.

I spent a few months in India a long time ago – up north – followed by a few weeks in Nepal. A lifetime ago, really, in the context of this rave.

More recently, but getting older by the day, I spent a lot of time in New Orleans and South Louisiana, chasing food with the same fervour I chased the music. But all that’s of only limited relevance to the food covered by Consider The Sauce.

Those two examples aside, a quirk of my life is that I’ve never set foot in any of the countries whose migrants to Australian have so enriched or collective lives.

So my impressions about the authenticity of the food we eat and buy is based solely on what I learn along the way, from talking to the food business folk themselves, to friends who have travelled to the countries concerned and a great deal of enthusiastic reading.

I’m under the strong impression that the most genuinely unchanged migrant food is the humble pho.

I’ve met a bunch of folk who have travelled to Vietnam and maintain the pho there is better than the pho here.

But that’s a different issue.

As far as I can see and learn, issues of comparative quality and regional variations aside, pho is pho whether you be in Vietnam or Footscray.

It’s tempting to conclude that the food served up so lovingly by our community of Ethiopian restaurants is identical to that served in Ethiopia itself.

After all, these are newish residents whose memory and cooking of their homeland is still a first-generation living, breathing thing.

But even here, appearances are deceiving.

For one of the foundations of Ethiopian food – injera – has long been baked here using a mixture of grains chosen to replicate as closely as possible the tiff with which it is made in Ethiopia.

Does that make it not authentic?

How about Indo-Chinese food – so much the mongrel it incorporates its fluid nature in its name?

In fact, I’d wager that within the Indo-Chinese food style pretty much anything goes and there’s not a soul who could question its authenticity.

From central and eastern Europe, Greece and Turkey through the Middle East and on to East Asia, the food styles appear to overlap and borrow from each other with such chaotic abandon that it is sometimes hard to gauge where one ends and another starts.

Japanese food is, like all the other cuisines covered here, these days very much an international food, and like all the others is bound to change as it travels.

Whether that means the various mutations can or should be called “Japanese” is arguable.

Just as it is arguable that vegetables deep-fried using panko crumbs should not be called tempura. (They should rightly be called, I believe, fuurai.)

But if panko crumbs can not tempura make, what to make of the widespread use in Japanese food of mayo? Or noodles and curry, for that matter. I’m sure there are other examples of Japanese food harnessing outside concepts and products.

These are just a few examples of the sort of issues that are raised in all sorts of foodie media – which methods or ingredients go, or do not, into making a perfect, “authentic” laksa or biryani or  curry or goulash.

Being peeved as a punter if a restaurant does not live up to its own self-description is one thing and is up to each individual, although I believe the very notion of authenticity is very much a moving target anyway.

Being irate at deliberate misrepresentation is not the same thing as criticising a restaurant’s food on the basis of what it is not, which can seem a little on the perverse side.

Pork ‘burger’ at La Morenita

Leave a comment

La Morenita Latin Cuisine, 67 Berkshire Rd, Sunshine North. Phone: 9311 2911

As Consider The Sauce has evolved, we’ve become a lot more comfortable about posting on particular places two – or even more – times.

Indeed, feedback leads us to believe that not only is this perfectly OK but also to be ardently desired.

As well, there is an aspect of this being an ongoing narrative – of our journey, that of the western suburbs and those of our friends and visitors.

Accordingly, we have no hesitation in giving the thumbs up to the latest menu addition of one of our favourite places.

The El Chanchito, made from the ingredients listed in the above photo, joins a list of terrific sandwiches.

Our first idea was to share one and try their chips for the first time.

However, we were talked out of this with a stern warning about the new sandwich’s, ahem, instability.

The warning was fully warranted, as this is a real handful.

We hesitate to say the El Chanchito aces its La Morenita colleagues – but it is very tasty thing.

And given the gooey presence of mayo, avocado and fried egg, it’s also the messiest – and that, too, is a fine thing!

See our earlier La Morenita posts here and here.

La Morenita Latin Cuisine on Urbanspoon

Pandu’s

2 Comments

Pandu’s, 351 Barkly St, Footscray. Phone: 0468 378 789

It seems there are very few Indian restaurants in Melbourne – or, at least, in the wider western realms in which we roam – that do not offer at least a few Indo-Chinese dishes on their menus these days.

Pandu’s, however, is one of a very few that offers nothing but.

Before venturing out to dine at the new Pandu’s in Footscray, I fossick around online trying to find out more about this intriguing food style – without much success.

So before Bennie and I order our meal, I ask Pandu himself.

Having presumed Indo-Chinese tucker is the spawn of metropolitan India and/or the worldwide Indian diaspora, I am somewhat surprised to hear him attribute it largely to states close to the border with China such as Assam.

He tells me there is no use in his kitchen of traditional Indian spices such as cumin or coriander. There is a heavy use of ginger and garlic, and sauces such as soy and Sichuan.

There’s a zingy aspect to it all that I have attributed to vinegar and/or lemon juice. These are used, I am told, but not so heavily as I have imagined.

(If anyone can offer more by way of the life and times of Indo-Chinese food, we’d love to hear from you!)

We’d enjoyed a couple of cool meals at the previous Pandu’s premises in Buckley St, so are very much looking forward to checking the new place out.

The fit-out of the rather large eatery is rather unusual.

On the one hand, the seats are plush in a way that cheap eats us are quite unaccustomed to.

As opposed to a recent comment on our Pandu’s preview post, we found them perfectly comfy and fine for dining.

The dark-stained tables, on the other hand, appear to be have been constructed out of glorified plywood.

The overall effect is one of ritzy cheap eats – and we like that a lot.

If that means this specialised restaurant delivers Indo-Chinese food cheaper than do your average Indian places who have some Indo-Chinese on their menus, then we’re all for it.

And it does. Indeed, the prices seem to have hardly risen at all in the transition.

Pandu knows perfectly well who we are and what we’re about, so we score a couple of complimentary offerings, though I have no doubt these or our actual menu choices are no different from what other customers receive.

Just saying …

A complementary salad is just some simple spinach leaves and shredded vegetables. A spiced eggplant sludge and yogurt combine to make a dressing for what is a nice appetiser.

The choice of vegetable-chicken sweet corn soup ($4.95) is down to Bennie, but I’m interested to see what the kitchen does with this Chinese staple.

The answer is … not a lot different.

It’s less viscous than we’d receive in a Chinese place, and there are a few more vegetable varieties, but nevertheless it’s a nice, plain starter given what we know is to come.

Chicken 65 ($8.95) is another Bennie choice on account of his fondness for the version at Hyderabad Inn up the road. He’s an expert!

This is OK but could be hotter and the chicken lacks flavour.

The seasoning and accompanying jumble of curry leaves, onion, capsicum and chilli is ace, however, and is the same flavour explosion we’d loved about vegetable 65 and mushoom 65 on previous visits.

Mixed noodles ($11.95)? They’re Bennie’s choice, too. Why isn’t he writing this instead of slothing it on the sofa watching Cartoon Network? One of life’s mysteries …

A big bowl of squiggly egg noodles is packed with finely chopped vegetables and pieces of chicken, omelette and prawn.

This is a mild but pleasing dish, with each of us seasoning to our specific requirements from the small bowls of tomato and soy sauces and chilli oil and chilli vinegar provided.

This seems like an Indo-Chinese version of the revered Nepalese chowmin.

Cauliflower Manchurian ($8.95) is the hit of the night – although I’d in no way suggest this is due to the fact it’s not a Bennie selection.

In contrast to the dryish chicken 65, the large and battered cauliflower chunks are coated with a dark, sticky and sweet sauce. The vegetable pieces are pleasantly firm and – best of all – the cauliflower flavour comes through despite the high level of seasoning.

Another flavour bomb!

We’ve stuck mostly to water during our meal, but have also enjoyed complementary long, tall glasses of housemade cashew milk, which the restaurant sells for $3.95.

This is divine – lusciously creamy, sweet and perfumed with cardamom.

It’s less drink and more like dessert – think pannacotta or creme brulee!

We’ve enjoyed our debut repast at the new Pandu’s – the mix of plain (sweet corn soup, noodles) with rampant seasoning (cauliflower, chicken) has been spot on.

Pandu’s Indian-style barbecue is scheduled for action the day after our visit, so awaits our next visit, at which time we’ll seek to explore some of the fish and prawn options.

Pandus on Urbanspoon

Kawa-Sake Sushi Boat & Grill Bar

11 Comments

 

Kawa-Sake Sushi Boat & Grill Bar, 3 Anderson St, Yarraville. Phone: 9687 8690

So excited had we been about the opening of this flash-but-cool Japanese noshery in Yarraville as the fit-out was still being completed, that we fully expected to be front of the queue on opening night.

Such did not turn out to be the case, and indeed the opening night was put forward a couple of weeks and a new, better name chosen.

But it is with springs in our steps, smiles on our dials and hearty appetites on board that we head up Anderson St.

It’s a full week after opening night and we’re happy with that.

As well, having stuck my head in the previous week very briefly, I have a hunch that space is going to be an issue, so Monday night feels right.

Having spied some beautiful sushi rolls on my earlier visit and having checked out the menu – and its prices – I’m bracing for a food-and-drink bill that will bust above all our usual limits.

After all, with food this pretty and sexy going by endlessly, the same temptations exist as do in any sushi train joint or even tapas bar.

Happily, courtesy of a cash gift from Bennie’s Grandma on the occasion of his father’s birthday the previous week, we’re all cashed up and ready to go.

It’s a relief to be entering Kawa-Sake knowing there will be no need for me to keep a mental abacus going as I fret over the mounting financial toll.

As I hint above, this is a small space, but it appears to be well used.

There’s an oval bar with stools around which the sushi boats sail and tables – mostly for two – along a wall adorned with a gorgeous hand-painted Japanese scene.

The other side of the room appears to be only used by the staff.

The sushi chef works at one end of the bar, and behind him is what appears to be a small kitchen for other dishes.

As we enter, the restaurant is as empty as the dozen sushi boats going around.

But within quite a short time, the restaurant is humming, most bar stools are taken and even most of the tables.

And the boats are being loaded.

My understanding is that these vessels contain dishes almost all of which are already listed on the laminated menu, which we find to represent a very accurate picture of the food we receive during the course of a highly enjoyable meal.

The boat plates are all black but the different prices are denoted by lettering in four different colours.

As they are bereft of cargo as we settle in, we order first from the menu. There have always been a few things we were always going to order, and happily they are the cheaper end of what’s available.

Seaweed salad ($5.50) is the standard offering – except for the simple fact it’s better.

More slippery and slithery than the usual, seemingly both sweeter and saltier, with a lovely chilli tease from the visible chill flakes, this finds both Bennie and I nodding our heads vigourously.

Miso soup ($3.80) is also a standard affair, with the beautifully delicate tofu a highlight.

“This tofu is really good!” Bennie enthuses.

(Wow – a lot has changed in a year!)

If there is a disappointment in our meal, it is the gyoza ($7.90 for five).

They’re OK, but the filling seems to be pork  and pork alone – no other textures or even seasoning. There’s a stickyish sauce in attendance, but I prefer the more traditional method of dipping them in a more vinegary and thinner sauce.

I concede, therefore, my ambivalance about the dumplings could have as much to do with my expectations as anything else.

Tofu Wrapped ($5.50), described as tofu and avocado with special sauce (which seems to be a creamy mayo with just the slightest hint of chilli), is definitely one of the more distinctive Japanese dishes we’ve tried.

The smooth mixture in the bowl is spooned on to the accompanying seaweed sheets, which are then rolled up and eaten – a bit like making your own rice paper rolls.

The process is foreign to us, so consequently we struggle a bit. The filling is nice enough but maybe a bit on the bland side.

Interesting rather than captivating.

At this point, we opt to choose two of the sushi boat offerings.

Kawa-Sake Rolls (above, $9.50) are grilled salmon skin, eel and avocado wrapped in salmon.

Orchid Rolls (below, $7) are pickled radish, tofu, cucumber, cream cheese wrapped in avocado.

Both are very classy and enjoyable sushi efforts, with the salmon skin adding a crunchy, chewy texture to the former.

“That tempura looks good!” says Bennie, spying the portion being provided to a couple of nearby fellow sushi bar patrons.

He’s wrong – it doesn’t look good; it looks fantastic.

So we have no hesitation in ordering it.

This is the star of our meal – yet it’s quite unlike any tempura we’ve tried previously.

That’s for the simple reason that the batter is of the panko variety rather than your usual tempura batter.

The batter is crunchy and virtually grease-free, the vegetables are hot and mostly crunchy, too.

There’s capsicum, pumpkin, green beans, zucchini – all brilliant.

At $11.80, it’s pleasingly priced.

And we’re starting to understand that vegetarians and those seeking lighter fare are well catered for at Kawa-Sake.

The knockout blow of deliciousness is delivered by the black sesame ice-cream ($6.50), ordered at Bennie’s insistence but with zero protestations from his dad.

It’s fabulous, although I confess to never having tried anything like it before.

It’s a little bit nutty, a little bit chocolate-y … and speaks eloquently of some similar flavour I cannot identify.

So … our first meal at Kawa-Sake, destined to be a Yarravile fixture, has been an outright winner.

There’s been areas of the menu we have not breached.

There’s sushi platters going for $18.80, $37.80 and $49.80 that look sublime.

There’s skewers in the $3-5 range – beef, squid, chicken, scallops, octopus balls.

There’s even salads – tuna/salmon and mushroom, both for $12.80.

Downsides? I struggle to find any.

The pickled ginger served with our soy sauce seemed to have been put in bowls and left out in the open air for some time, so was dried out and rather unappetising.

I wish we’d been offered dedicated dipping sauces with the gyoza and our wonderful tempura.

The cans of Coke were $3.50, but we’ve paid as much for much less soft drink twice on recent jaunts elsewhere, so actually count that pricing as a win.

The service was friendly and efficient, if a little on the nervous side – understandable, that.

And our dishes arrived briskly and with good pacing, a hiccup with the ice-cream aside.

As we conclude our dinner and arrange to pay for it, Bennie and I speculate over the damage done.

He reckons $50.

His dad reckons much closer to $100.

The bill is $70, although it’s only once home that I realise we have not been charged for the seaweed salad.

It’s been worth every cent.

Kawa-Sake is very highly recommended by Team Consider The Sauce.

We’d advise, though, a cavalier attitude towards the prices to be paid.

Just go for it, if you are able to do so – penny-pinching here is liable to be a frustrating experience.

We’d also advise folks to pick their time to visit with some care.

It’s a lovely room, but it’s already apparent that takeaway patrons lingering just inside the door are interacting with staff and eat-in customers in awkward ways.

As well, any time at weekends is likely to be on the crazy side.

So for locals especially, it’s simple – early in the week, early in the night.

Or for lunch!

Kawa-Sake Sushi Boat & Grill Bar on Urbanspoon

New York Minute

5 Comments

New York Minute, 491 Mount Alexander Rd, Moonee Ponds. Phone: 9043 1838

Enjoying lunch at New York Minute is especially enjoyable, as only a week previously I’d ruminated on the fickle nature of this stretch of Mount Alexander Rd.

So it’s nice to welcome a newcomer.

Having been tipped off about this place – Hi, Nat! – and scoping out its website, I lose no time in getting up there.

Because the New York Minute menu is so extremely well thought out – nothing over $8, very succinct but with several bases covered – and the fact it’s open breakfast, lunch and dinner seven days a week, it’s hard to see it becoming anything but a popular fixture.

It’s a small place, but the brown-toned fit-out is cool and there’s outdoor seating.

Unfortunately, as the place has been open only a few weeks, some of the sexier menu items are yet to eventuate – specifically the $8 Philly Cheese Steak, Pulled Pork Roll and Brisket On A Roll.

The super friendly staff assure they’ll be up and running in  a couple of weeks, but in the meantime I’m happy to make do with what’s available.

A super homely and rich minestrone ($5) looks awesome, but I order the grilled chicken burger ($8) with a side of chips ($3) and a soft drink ($2.50 for a 200ml can).

The chips are hot, delicious, just crunchy enough and just plentiful enough to accompany a burger.

The chicken meat is tender and juicy, but lacking a little in the flavour department.

Happily, the same can’t be said for the cheese.

I’ve actually given up ordering cheese with any sort of burgers, as almost always it seems doing so is for form’s sake alone. How often can you actually taste the cheese?

That ain’t the case here – the thickish slice of gooey, grilled Swiss is really good.

And flavoursome!

The burger is completed with some good spinach leaves, tomato and chilli mayo.

I linger long enough to enjoy a beautiful cafe latte ($3).

Even with a slightly parsimonious soft drink serve, my lovely lunch is a brilliant steal at $16.50.

And I’m excited about returning to check out the BBQ items …

New York Minute on Urbanspoon

In Melbourne … you never know …

2 Comments

Punctuality – and even rampant earliness – is a Weir family trait.

So we get to the Harlequin rugby home ground in Ashwood/Chadstone quite a bit too early for this morning’s game.

Early enough, in fact, to set off on foot to the nearby retail strip is search of coffee/hot chocolate.

I’m not particularly hopeful – the area, when we passed it earlier, seemed drab and devoid of interest, the primary fact of the place being the endless stream of traffic in both directions on busy Warrigal Rd.

We find coffee – just barely acceptable from a dowdy bakery.

We find something else, too, something that eluded us in car but that becomes readily apparent on foot.

This stretch of Warrigal Rd is an area of intense food activity. In fact, there eight Asian eateries crammed into barely 200 metres.

Several of them are Korean.

But there’s a bog standard Chinese, a Vietnamese and an Indonesian place, too.

That latter, Bamboe Cafe, appears to offer a substantial and intriguing list of variations on nasi goreng.

Of course, at 8.30am on a Saturday morning none of them are open.

And the chances of us ever being in the vicinity when they are seem slim.

But in Melbourne … you never know.

Mr Roast Carvery & Salad Bar

2 Comments

Mr Roast Carvery & Salad Bar, Shop 7 Coles Centre, 19-21 Douglas Pde, Williamstown. Phone 9397 7878

Being in a meaty mood and with other shopping endeavours taking me to Williamstown, I ponder a visit to Mr Roast, tucked away at the rear of the Coles complex on Douglas Pde.

I’d stuck my nose in on previous occasions, only to be dissuaded by the rather soul-less vibe and not particularly attractive meats and salads on display.

So today’s the day curiosity will be assuaged.

We’d been tipped to the existence of the Caroline Springs Mr Roast outlet by the bloke who sold us our car. He no longer works for that dealer and we have no idea what the phrase “good food” means to him.

Mr Roast sells chicken, beef, pork and lamb in styles and sizes ranging from rolls ($7.50) and kids meals up to more expensive Mr Roast Meals and Scalloped Potato Meals, both of which sell for $11.95 for a one-person serve.

After asking the “what’s hot” question, I opt for the roast pork meal, with spuds and peas, obtaining a swap of coleslaw in place of pumpkin.

Yes, yes, coleslaw and roast pork are perhaps not a natural fit – but anything is better than pumpkin. (Hi Mum!)

My meal, on real crockery and with metal utensils, is brought to my table with a gravy boat on the side.

The meat is not the super tender I’d been led to expect but it’s a huge serve and really tasty. I make happy with the gravy to make up for the slight dryness.

The gravy tastes good but I don’t want to think about how it’s made or what with.

It’s in a congealed state when it arrives and cold even before I finish my lunch.

It’s a sunny but nevertheless cold day and the doors/windows out to the Coles carpark are wide open, so the rest of my meal is likewise chilly by the time I finish.

There’s so much pork on my plate – I try hard to eat it all, but fail.

The thankfully small serve of crackling is crackly, utterly delicious and sinfully salty.

By contrast, two meager and undistinguished half roast potatoes and what seems less than half a cup of peas seem a bit miserly. The peas are not of the canned variety, but their dull green colouring hints that they may be close cousins.

Reads like a litany of disappointment, doesn’t it?

Funnily enough, though, the sum is much greater than the parts and I enjoy my lunch very much.

Best bet at Mr Roast is to get there soon after the food is ready, as I suspect it will become less appetising as the day wars on.

The Mr Roast website is here.

Big Boy BBQ

5 Comments

Big Boy BBQ, 764 Glenhuntly Rd, Caulfield South. Phone: 9523 7410

Had ribs on Haight St in San Francisco on my first visit – 1977 – to the US.

Have eaten at famous Kreuz’s near San Antonio – a spectacular temple to the carnivore ethos.

Have had random and very sporadic contact with BBQ traditions, food and culture.

But can in no way claim any kind of expertise despite being a life-long Americanophile.

That’s simply because the area of the US I subsequently came to favour with my time and money – New Orleans and South Louisiana – is bereft of any kind of BBQ tradition at all. I mean … there’s nothing.

Oh, OK there’s a few places.

But really, the various inter-twined food traditions of the creole, Italian, cajun and French varieties seem to have left no room at all for a BBQ equivalent.

That’s a cause of regret for some New Orleanians I have known, particularly those not natives – as is the case with so many Crescent City residents.

There are, of course, upsides to living in New Orleans – culinary and otherwise.

But I digress …

As with attempts at New Orleans and South Louisiana food in Melbourne, my experience here with BBQ in general and ribs in particular has not been joyful.

Still, I’m optimistic about a first visit to Big Boy BBQ – the word, actually many words, are good.

The joint is done out in modern diner style – stools at the front, comfy booths at the back.

Unfortunately, this is a mid-week lunch, so neither budget nor tummy stretch to ribs, which range from $25 for a half rack up to $55 for the full version. Our pal Nat rates them, so I’ll be back soonish I suspect to gnaw galore with Bennie.

My order:

Regular onion strings – $4.95.

Regular coleslaw – $3.95.

Sandwich … The Carolina (pulled pork scotch fillet with coleslaw and BBQ sauce, $9.90).

I’m awful confused by the onion strings – no onion flavour, no sweetness. They taste like fries.

Whoops … they ARE fries. The Big Boy serving me later apologises, promising me a free serve of the onion jobbies next visit. He says he’ll even put my name in his book. I wonder if it’s called The Balls-Up Book?

The fries are OK, but have been heavily doused with some sort of supercharged variant of chicken salt.

The coleslaw is perfect, crunchy yet not too much so, tangy, tasty and all-round brilliant.

It’s made, I suspect and later learn, using the European method of letting the cabbage and carrot sit for a good, long while in a whole lot of salt, sugar and vinegar. Rinsed, it is then dressed in more modest amounts of vinegar, oil, salt, pepper.

A lesson there, I reckon, for a very many charcoal chicken shops.

My sandwich is of modest proportions for the price.

But the meat is real fine – in strands as it falls apart and with good sauce and some more of that slaw.

Serious appetites could do some serious financial damage here, but as a treat and for food that has a sense of authentic BBQ about it, it’s pretty cool.

As well, there are combo deals that make a lot of sense.

The Little Boy combo ($49), for instance, has pulled lamb shoulder, saucy beef brisket and a half-rack of lamb ribs with two regular sides.

The Big Boy BBQ website is here.

Big Boy BBQ on Urbanspoon

Pho Chu The

1 Comment

Pho Chu The, 92 Hopkins St, Footscray. Phone: 9687 8265

What’s your pho ritual?

Mine invariably goes something like this …

1. Order medium (slice beef sliced chicken) when I know quite well small will do fine.

3. Sip soup for a bit.

4. Add a few slices of fresh chilli.

5. Sip more soup.

6. Empty chilli/lemon bowl and fill it with chilli sauce.

7. Sip more soup.

8. Add basil and bean sprouts to soup/noodles; mix well.

9. Eat, all the while dipping meat in chilli sauce and sipping soup.

10. Near the end, squeeze lemon juice over soup to freshen it up.

11. Finish.

12. Sigh happily.

My Pho Chu The experience differs from this near-rigid norm in several regards.

There’s no fresh chillies with my basil-and-sprouts. Instead, they’re provided in bulk in jars on each table. I’m not sure this is such a good idea, as these look a little tired. But they do – and I end up dosing my meal with more than usual just because I’m in the mood for heat.

There are stacks of those little bowls, though, and I fill one of them with chilli sauce AND hoisin sauce. I won’t try this again – it goes OK but I prefer the lean, clean chilli hit over the sweetly compromised blend of both sauces.

My beef is unusual – it’s sliced quite thickly. But it’s still the top-class lean beef you’d expect in any pho joint with pride, and I rather enjoy the experience of chomping on what seems like real steak.

My chicken is likewise more chunky than is usually the case. But that’s OK, too. It’s minus the gnarly bits that often accompany chicken that is not just sliced breast meat.

The broth is OK but lacks any sort of wow factor.

The basil is fresh, all class and plentiful.

And it’s all mine – one of the undoubted cool benefits of eating pho at a table for one.

My meal is a good, honest pho effort and I eat far more of it than I expect.

Pho Chu The is a lot more bright and cheerful than the exterior hints at.

It has one of the most succinct pho-joint menus I’ve ever seen.

But there are photos on the wall of beef stew and spring rolls.

There’s a photo, too, of a meal – “Rump Steak” – that looks like it may be a Viet version of steak ‘n’ eggs.

Steak, fried egg, tomatoes, basil, bread rolls and what appears to be a small bowl of mustard.

My efforts to discover the availability and price are thwarted by a too-high language barrier.

Still, I’m intrigued.

Pho Chu The on Urbanspoon

Gumbo Kitchen

6 Comments

Gumbo Kitchen website

The good news is very good indeed.

Melbourne’s mobile Gumbo Kitchen has secured a licence for Maribyrnong and its first visit to the western suburbs is in mere weeks, as opposed to months.

These glad tidings are delivered to me by Jimmy and Kurt, who are manning the truck for a Sunday visit to Brunswick Bowls Club in Victoria St.

They promise to keep me up to date with the when and the where, so when I know, you’ll know … right here on Consider The Sauce.

This news may not have been greeted by myself with such delight before sampling their wares, such has been my mood in venturing out for a first taste of Gumbo Kitchen offerings.

That mood has been laden with very low expectations and even pessimism, fostered by a number of factors …

Many visits to New Orleans and South Louisiana, so standards are high.

The cooking at home – though not so much in recent years – of my own very fine gumbos.

Inevitable disappointment spread over many years when Melbourne restaurants tried to cook anything remotely New Orleans.

Cajun this, creole that, blackened whatever?

Bah!

As well, based on the behaviour of friends and some comments on Gumbo Kitchen on blogs and social media, I know very well that Australians generally just don’t understand gumbo.

It’s a soup, not a stew.

It’s meant to be runny.

Rice is just a small part of the experience – maybe 10 to 20 per cent; certainly no more than half a cup of rice per bowl of gumbo.

The rice is not a leading ingredient as with African, Asian or even Middle Eastern food.

This rice-heaping habit is NOT the fault of the Gumbo Kitchen crew, of course.

They nod their heads knowingly when I mention it and seem relieved to be serving someone who knows the ins and outs of New Orleans.

They respond to my pessimism by offering a small sample serve of their chicken and sausage gumbo.

No chicken or sausage, just soup and trinity vegetables – celery, onion, capsicum.

All doubts are removed with the first ecstatic mouthful.

This really IS a gumbo.

The flavour is deep and rich with the twinned magic of just-right seasoning and a flour-oil roux.

Fantastic!

Stupidly, foolishly, I ignore this most obvious of hints and order something else.

My beef debris po’ boy sandwich ($12) is the real deal, too.

It’s big, so the $12-15 prices range for the sandwiches is more than fair.

The handsome, fresh French bread and the dressing of lettuce, tomato and two crunchy halves of pickled cucumber are right on the money.

The beef, though, is a bit of dud.

Beef debris means  to me the bits that fall off a roast beef and continue cooking, becoming crunchy and delicious. Like the crispy bits from a Greek souvlaki rotisserie.

This meat is more like shredded beef. It’s very moist to the point of being sopping wet, and the whole thing falls apart – that’s a roast beef po’ boy for you, so no fault there.

But the meat seems to have little or no flavour, even after a liberal dosing with Crystal sauce.

Some of the deep-fried seafood I see folks around me tucking into looks much more the go.

That’s where I’ll heading next time, hopefully in the west and much closer to home.

Or even better, I’ll go the gumbo.

That’s if I don’t make one myself in the meantime.

It’s been a long time!

While I’ve been eating, the music has mainly been by the Rebirth Brass Band and their former leader, trumpeter Kermit Ruffins.

But when I get home, there’s only one New Orleans tune I wanna hear … by the great Smiley Lewis:

Gumbo Kitchen on Urbanspoon

Rubble & Riches Market in Laverton

3 Comments

Rubble & Riches Market, 8-18 Leakes Rd, Laverton. Phone: 9369 6426

The shock of stumbling upon Rubble & Riches Market in Laverton is intense and pleasurable.

The reason?

Earlier in the day I’d been contemplating an entire day – indeed, an entire weekend – free and clear.

Extremely desirous was I of adventure, an outing, something good to eat and generally having my mind blown.

But not for the first time I was struck by a feeling that after more than a decade in the west, and after two years of full-on blogging activity that has entailed much exploration, I’d tapped our region out, that I’d been everywhere and done pretty much everything.

I even resorted to a slightly panicked perusal of Google maps in order to discover some shopping strip or industrial estate we had yet to examine.

As I say, this nagging feeling has visited previously.

It’s ridiculous. It’s misplaced. It always is.

So off I head, driving west on the freeway and taking the Kororoit Rd off ramp, with only some vague awareness of a Laverton market to steer me.

On Leakes Rd, I am happily stunned to see thousands of people and thousands of cars.

Many people are already departing, even though it’s just on noon, arms laden with market-bought goodies of many kinds.

I park in a vast, muddy parking lot and make my way to one of the market entrances, where I pay my $1 entry fee.

Yes, that’s correct – this is a market that charges an entry fee.

The market is pretty darn amazing – in the range of goods on sale, the diversity of the customers and the varied range of dogs, all of it underscored by amplified, slightly distorted Vietnamese Cheesy Pop Cover Versions such as Hank Williams’ Jambalaya.

The longer I spend in the west, the more I come to believe that Vietnamese Cheesy Pop Cover Versions are a lofty, refined and magical artform.

According to its website, the market has about 1400 stalls set on about 14 hectares, including two large pavilions.

Naturally, the market bears some resemblance to markets Victoria and Footscray.

But it’s also very, very different.

For Rubble & Riches also has elements that make it feel like part swap meet, part garage sale and part op shop.

There’s secondhand small machinery, furniture and brickabrack of a bewildering variety, along with all the usual clothing and knicknacks that are market staples.

There’s a quite nice range of food-to-eat-right-now stalls, but only a very small coverage of fruit and vegetables, and none at all that I could see of fresh meat, poultry or fish.

To my utter delight, there’s an outdoor Vietnamese eatery set up in an old bus and with patrons eating under adjacent canvas.

The food they’re eating looks fine – banh mi, rice and pork chop and even some interesting looking vegetarian soup noodle options.

But after checking out the entire site, I opt first up for a bratwurst from the grill shop set up by Radtke Catering, the intoxicating aromas from which permeate the hall in which it is situated.

As well as a range of snags, they’re cooking up ham and chicken steaks.

My sausage is sold to me under the name German bratwurst, but is quite different texture and even taste to those I am familiar with from the Vic Market. Still, at $5.50 it’s good.

Still, hungry I choose next a chorizo ($7) from a stall run by a lovely, smiling Chilean dude and his friendly staff (top photo).

I go with the green salsa, but soon discover it’s tame, so return for a big dollop of the its red sibling. It’s not red hot either, but spices things up nicely and leaves a tingle on my lips.

At this point, I say to myself: “Righto – enough of this health food stuff … fruit for the rest of the day!”

Accordingly, I purchase a baguette-shaped chocolate brioch loaf ($2.50) from Nikola, who is manning the Noisette baked goodies stall.

His company has been at the market for just three weeks and his verdict is still out on its merits.

On reflection, I have some doubts about the practical utility of this market.

I could never see us choosing it over our other favourites for stocking up the house with food or anything else.

But for a weekend visit of high entertainment value, it’s all class.

Having assumed that the folks who are collecting the $1 entry fee are doing so on behalf of some local community or sports group, I ask if that is the case as I am departing.

Not so, I’m, told – this is weekend work for them, they get paid and the fee dosh goes to the market operators.

The market, which I gather has been running for at least 15 years, is open from 7am-4pm on Saturdays and Sundays.

Bagel & Juice Cafe and Catering

2 Comments

Bagel & Juice Cafe and Catering, 736 Mt Alexander Rd, Moonee Ponds. Phone: 9375 2947

The signs on the wall above the coffee machine are eloquent and indicative.

“The deadline for complaints is yesterday,” reads one.

“Sarcasm – just one more service we offer here,” says the other.

As you’d expect, Bagel & Juice proprietor Leanne is a formidably tough, hard-as-nails broad.

Just kidding!

Actually, everything about this homely Moonee Ponds enterprise – the food, the welcome, the staff singing along to the music, the decor, the cooking aromas and more – is a lively, nurturing antidote to the hipper-than-thou coffee joints sprouting up like mushrooms across the west.

Hey, I can go with that flow quite happily, but Bagel & Juice is something else again.

Being no great fan of bagels, I’d previously ignored the place despite driving and even walking past it countless times.

But earlier in the day I’d set out with the determined purpose of finding somewhere interesting to eat on the stretch of Mt Alexander Rd between Kensington and Puckle St. That’s not as easy as it sounds.

As I discuss with Leanne after my lunch has been and done, it’s a weird stretch with a bit of a Jekyll & Hyde about it.

Heaps of traffic, a fish and chip joint that does sushi, lots of Asian places further up near Puckle St that seem generally pricier than we are used to in our other westie haunts, plenty of cafes and the like. And lots and lots of light industrial and commercial activity.

There’s not a lot of footpath traffic and many eats businesses are not open for lunch, though I suspect there’s a nightlife vibe generated by the pubs and clubs in the hours I am least likely to be in the neighbourhood.

Maybe all that accounts for why about 80 per cent of Leanne’s trade is found on the catering side of her business.

Actually, the word bagel in the name is a little misleading.

There’s plenty of them – brought in par-baked from Glicks and finished on the premises – but there’s a revolving cast of other goodies going as well, including these days what Leanne calls her “Winter Warmers”.

There’s soups and wraps and pastas and stews – the range from week to week varies, sometimes for no better reason than staff preferences.

“We don’t want to eat the same stuff all the time either!” says Leanne.

What draws me through the door is the list on sandwich board outside, and specifically its mention of “Beef or Moroccan stroganoff”.

I opt for the beef version – and it’s a doozy.

Made, Leanne informs me, by using beef, beef stock, mushrooms, onions, sour cream, wine, garlic, black pepper and lots of love, this is classic stroganoff territory.

Served over nice penne pasta, its richness is ameliorated in just right way by the wine. The beef could be a little more tender, but it’s the mushies, sour cream and pepper that dominate the flavour proceedings in a grand fashion.

It’s very good and I luxuriate in every mouthful.

It’s a good-sized serve, too, making the $10.95 price tag something of a bargain.

Bagel & Juice is open 8am-4pm five days a week.

Leanne has all sort of special deals and customer loyalty schemes going on.

And a big mouth.

There’s a nifty courtyard out back, too.

Who knows? Given the great vibe, I might even opt for a bagel next time around.

Bagel & Juice Cafe and Catering on Urbanspoon

Abbout Falafel House

7 Comments

Abbout Falafel House, 465 Sydney Rd, Coburg. Phone: 9350 4343

My third visit to Abbout Falafel House.

My third visit unaccompanied.

My fervent desire to share this great place and its amazing food with one or more of my eats buddies is thwarted again.

Last time I was in this Coburg neighbourhood, I had brother Kurt with me, but Abbout’s was closed; we found a more than acceptable alternative anyway.

As for today … oh well, I have the foodie bits from a newspaper and a door-stopping American classic by John Sayles for company.

Meet “Hommos Belahma”.

The zingy hommos is topped with pan-fried lamb mince and pine nuts.

It’s incredible!

The slightly sweet grease of the lamb works like a perfect teammate with the mild astringency of the dip.

Unlike on my second visit here, when perfectly acceptable commercial pita bread was served, today I once more get the rotund house-made bread. It’s beaut – a bit thicker than its commercial cousins and emitting steam when punctured.

No olives today, but the sour, crunchy pickled cucumbers, pickled chillis, pickled turnip, tomato slices and a profusion of mint are all present.

My lunch is perfect, even if I am unable to even go close to finishing it.

It costs $8 and at a pinch could serve as a light lunch for two people..

As I am packing up to leave, the young Asian cat sitting at the next table says to me: “Don’t you do a food blog? Consider The Sauce, right?”

His name’s Sern.

And not only is he familiar with Consider The Sauce, he’s evidently studied it quite closely.

In fact, his presence in this particular Middle Eastern noshery is a direct result of the previous CTS review of Abbout Falafel House.

Sean is of Malaysian derivation, lives way, way on the other side of town and works in the northern suburbs.

But in his soul and in his tummy, he’s a westie at heart.

He’s familiar with almost all of Footscray’s African restaurants and is a big fan of Safari in Ascot Vale.

“The food in the west just seems to have more soul somehow,” he says.

He’s a fellow traveller, he’s a soul brother.

We swap phone numbers and email addresses with a view to a lunch arrangement the following week.

I ask him what other food blogs he likes: “Ms Baklover!”

Abbout Falafel House on Urbanspoon

Sweet Rice

9 Comments

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

We arrive for our early and long-awaited dinner at Sweet Rice to find a rather dowdy cheap eats cafe.

The atmosphere seems a little gloomy, perhaps because the place is empty except for us and is barely warm on a very cold evening. And even though the lighting glare is soon to play havoc with photography.

Happily, by the time we are well into our meal the room has filled considerably, presenting a much more merry impression.

We are delighted about being joined by Consider The Sauce regular Keri – for the fine company, for the extra breadth three folks confer on the ordering process and the fact she gets into the swing of things by reminding me on a couple of occasions to take photos.

I get that way sometimes when I’m hungry and excited about eating in a new place!

The food here is cheap by any standards – by the standards of Thai restaurants in Melbourne, it seems exceptionally cheap.

Making us more excited is the fact there are quite a few novel items on the menu.

Some things we want to order – spicy lamb roti, beef noodle soup (whatever that is in a Thai context) – are unavailable.

The vegetable curry puffs ($4.50) are nice enough. But they’re so tiny that they seem almost all pastry and the filling gets lost in the jostle.

Keri’s no big of fish cakes; neither am I, to tell you the truth.

But these ($5.90), in my experience, are as good as we’ve had.

In this case, the rubbery effect is rather pleasing and it’s obvious by the internal greenery of sliced spring onion that these are house-generated.

The chicken satay skewers ($6.90) are ordered by command of Bennie; the rest of the team is happy to go along.

He loves them; his dad finds the chicken meat OK but a little fibrous.

But it’s the sauce that impresses – not so much peanutty, but with a lovely flavour that has a tang of curry about it.

Soft shell crab (top photo, $12.90) is Keri’s choice and it’s an outright winner.

The tiny crabs are tender and a little crunchy at the same time, while the batter and seasoning seem very much along the same lines of those found on salt-and-pepper calamari and chicken ribs in Malaysian joints.

Chu chee curry fish ($9.50) is, I’m later told, like a cross between a red curry and a panang curry.

Some rudimentary online sleuthing indicates that is very much the case, while I find one reference that maintains that it “is based on a red curry sauce and distinguished by the use of kaffir lime leaves and basil – it is a thick spicy sauce that is different from other Thai curries because of the texture“.

In any case, it’s delightful that in our dish the battered fish (we forget to forget to ask the species) is both crispy and covered in the gravy.

The accompanying vegetables are both vibrant of colour and lovely to eat.

Only problem is the parsimonious quantity of sauce.

When I’d earlier asked about the pork shank ($12.90), I’d been told it is deep fried.

We thought: Why not?

Still, we are surprised by the sheer size and imposing presence of our dish. Definitely a first for all of us!

The whole thing has been rubbed with five-spice and cinnamon.

There’s quite a lot of meat, which is pleasantly tasty and chewy in a nice way but a long way short of fall-off-the-bone tender.

The crackling is dry but actually quite tough, but yours truly gobbles a fair amount of it anyway.

Just as well there’s three of us – this dish would be ludicrous for a single diner and a bit on the over-the-top side for a couple. It’s made, we suggest, for group dining.

The presence of some unusual items on the Sweet Rice menu may have led us – oh, OK, me! – astray.

Had we stuck with a more orthodox order that included, say, a tangy salad, a regular curry and a vegetable-heavy vegetable wok dish, we may have enjoyed a more well-rounded dinner.

However, despite some oddities along the way, we’ve seen and tasted enough to reckon Sweet Rice may provide not only some of Melbourne’s cheapest Thai food but also some of its very best. There’s a home-cooked vibe here that defies any expectations of sauce-out-of-a-bottle.

The service was obliging and our food arrived in good time.

It’ll be interesting to see what the experts at krapow think about the place when they get around to it.

Ms Baklover at Footscray Food Blog is certainly a fan.

Thanks to Keri for being part of the team!

Sweet Rice on Urbanspoon