Tag Archives: western suburbs

Wild Rice

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Shop 18/11-19 Ferguson St, Williamstown. Phone: 9397 5484

On leaving Wild Rice after a really fine lunch, we troop up Ferguson St for a coffee at what turns out to be a hidey-hole of the Italian variety that we resolve to explore in further depth at the earliest possible opportunity.

As well, well-known Italian chef Rosa Mitchell is busy injecting Sicilian zest into the Hobson’s Bay Hotel, just opposite Wild Rice, though the prices we scan in the display menu outside put that joint into the “special occasion” bracket for us.

So maybe we’re being a touch harsh in our long-running disdain for Willy as a dining destination.

Still, it remains odd to us that a suburb so stuffed with eateries should have found so little place in our hearts, compared to, say, nearby Altona and Newport.

We’ve liked Wild Rice for a while, though, and are always pleased to return.

After visiting Snowballs Ice-Cream, we’d headed for Altona for a Viet/Sino place that turned out to be closed for Saturday lunch.

Further rambling was rejected in the interest of a safe bet in Willy.


Wild Rice is a swell Thai place with an elegant cafe-style vibe quite a way removed from that of many low-price places we frequent.

The service, we’ve found, is always swift and smiling.

The night-time a la carte list would stretch our budget – salads around the $15 mark, curries and stir fries from about $16 to $20 and up depending on your choice of protein.

So naturally, we head for the “lunch specials” list, which is available from noon to 5pm.

This features pad thai, tom yum and red curry noodle soups, and fried noodles for around $13-15.

But again, and happily for our wallets, we are drawn to the cheaper dishes.

Bennie will never say “no” to satay of any kind, so says yes here to the chicken stay and rice ($11.50)

The meat on his four skewers is a little hard to remove from the wood, but he loves it anyway. The satay sauce is a on the skimpy side, but tastes grand – it has a really distinctive flavour that speaks, we presume, of some real care and lack of shot cuts in the kitchen.

The rice and salad bits are good.


My “savoury pancakes” ($11.50) are actually a single rice flour pancake of the kind familiar to us from its counterpart in Vietnamese restaurants.

This one is a blast and half. It’s bloody good, with Bennie casting envious glances as his dad barely suppresses moans of pleasure. The stuffing is a just-right mix beans sprouts and minced pork. The salad quotient, provided by lettuce, carrot strands, mint and fresh coriander, is likewise near perfect. The whole dish is set off by being dressed with a beaut housemade sweet chilli sauce.

We really like the way both our meals treat the herbs as more than just a matter of garnish – the coriander and mint are sufficiently copious to make them full team members.

A couple of commentators at the Wild Rice entry on Urbanspoon opine that the restaurant is the “worst Thai food in the West” and “Thai food for people that don’t want the authenticity”.

The first comment is, I feel, on pretty shaky ground.

The second quip? I simply don’t know enough about Thai food to offer an authoritative judgment. But based on the non-bottle flavour of Bennie’s satay sauce and the simple, profound pleasures of my pancake, I suspect Wild Rice may actually be among the most authentic Thai places going around.

Wild Rice on Urbanspoon

Snowballs Ice-Cream And Lollies

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320 Melbourne Rd, Newport. Phone: 9391 0711

We make a solemn and sober vow – we will restrict ourselves to three items.

Such a display of overt determination may seem a little extreme.

But we are, after all, entering a cathedral dedicated to all things sweet and sugary.

Worse – we are doing so on empty stomachs and just before lunch!

There’s plenty of lollie shops scattered across Melbourne – until quite recently there even used to be one in Anderson St, Yarraville.

But Snowballs is a doozie – a sort of superstore for those of a sweet tooth persuasion.

There’s a mind-boggling array of goodies stuffed into quite a small space.

There’s rows and rows of simply packaged lollies and liquorice, many of them quite traditional.

There’s much that is gimmicky and gives us many chuckles – metres of bubblegum, candy necklaces and much, much, much more.

The staff tell us that the American candy – Milk Duds, Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups, Hershey’s lines and so on – is very popular.

Likewise, the New Zealand products are popular.

My Dunedin childhood was packed with Whittaker’s Peanut Slabs, Buzz Bars and Chocolate Fish – but in my mind they were bigger and far more alluring than those on display here. And back in those days – yes, so very, very last century! – they were sold by milk bars and corner stores WITHOUT WRAPPERS.

Just being in this place, goofing around, discovering new, ingenious and weird excesses in tooth-rot marketing gives us something akin to a sugar high – with not a thing passing our lips.

The staff tell us this is quite common.

We settle on:

A box of Petit Ecolier dark chocolate bikkies – we’ve had them before, but not for a very excellent $2.

A small bar of Cavalier dark chocolate from Belgium ($3,80).

A Wonka Fabulicious Sour With Nerds for $1.80 … whatever that is (Bennie’s choice!).

And, from England, a Tunnock’s Milk Chocolate Coated Caramel Wafer Biscuit for $1.10.

I’m happy to report that while we love our sweeties, they by no means rule our lives or diets. That little lot will last at least a week with the exercise of little or no willpower. Honest! Besides, as we like our chocolate frozen, the biscuits and Belgian product will get bunged in the freezer. And it’s quite easy to forget there’s sweet stuff in there rubbing shoulders with the chicken stock and pasta sauce.

Jolly Rogers

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306-308 Melbourne Rd, Newport. Phone: 9399 4339

UPDATE 26/1/12: This restaurant has closed down. Becoming, according to a post on Urbanspoon, a Subway! Booo!

Stepping on to the train to Newport, I muse on the disturbing truth of how car-dependent we have become.

Our wheels are in the car doctor’s rooms for the weekend, hopefully with an affordable resolution the outcome on Monday.

In the meantime, a man has to eat.

And a blog is whispering about a scandalous week of neglect.

I am headed for the Souvlaki Hut outlet that took up residence a while back in what was once a fish and chip place, interested to see what resides at the intersection of Greek and Franchise.

I am thoroughly bemused and confused, therefore, when I near the establishment and see signs that say Jolly Rogers.

What’s going on?

After an enjoyable lunch, co-owner Anthony Scarlata gives me the lowdown.

He and his business partner bought Jolly Rogers a tad short of five years back.

Eventually, they signed up with the Souvlaki Hut people, but for various reasons that didn’t work well.

So now they’re back with the original name and have been open five weeks when I visit.


Along the way, they’ve retained a Mediterranean flavour – and hence signage that says: “Jolly Rogers … with a twist.”

So what does that mean?

Well, there’s still a heap of fish and chips going around.

But there’s also the likes of grilled halloumi cheese, dips, onion rings, burgers, souvlakis and salads. Gosh, there’s even brown rice for $3.95.

There’s kids meals for $5.95 – nuggets, calamari, F&C – which can upgraded with a slushie or soft drink for a very excellent $1.

“Mamma’s seafood salad” costs $15.95 while an entry level burger clocks in at $7.50 ($2.50 extra for chips) and char-grilled calamari at $9.95

Despite an ambiance that suggests fast food and franchising, this is a full-service restaurant. You can order a wine or a beer, my order is taken at my table, the cutlery and crockery are real and the service and welcome are efficient and chipper.

As such, the prices seem very fair and I suspect I’ll be returning quick smart with Bennie on hand to explore the menu in greater detail.

It presents as a really good place of the “family restaurant” variety. Moreover, it also seems to be a place where we will be able to pursue our occasional longings for seafood without going broke in the process.

Your flashier seafood joints, of none or any ethnicity, are usually well beyond our means, so this could be the beginning of a cool friendship.


Take, for instance, my “Seafood for 1 deal”, which costs $12.95.

The three calamari rings are as good as any I’ve ever had, the batter light and dry, the calamari tender and tasty. Outstanding!

The fish – rockling, I am informed – is just about as good, the nice-sized fillet encased in a batter that could be crisper. The fish itself is really, really good and flavoursome.

The chips are OK, likewise the salad, although both come across as a bit of an afterthought.

Upon inquiring about tartare sauce or mayo for chip-dipping purposes, I am presented with a bowl of good aioli for which I am not charged.

I’m having such a grand time – eating, relaxing, reading the newspaper – that I linger a while longer over a truly fantastic latte.

Extra brownie points to Jolly Rogers for in-house music that runs through the likes of the Temptations, Van Morrison, the Zombies, Dusty Springfield and the Monkees. Sure as hell beats the high-volume and teeth-grindingly awful Led Zep I endured at Mankoushe a week or so before!

I figure my enforced train trip to Newport has been a good omen, so I catch another choo choo back to Yarraville. As if I have any choice, walking side.

Jolly Rogers with a twist on Urbanspoon

John’s Nuts & Deli

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Shop 30, Metro West Shopping Centre, cnr Paisley and Albert Sts, Footscray. Phone 0419 138 992.

For some reason I’ve always had Johns Nuts & Deli pegged as just another continental deli, the kind found in various other Footscray venues, in Sunshine, Carlton, Brunswick – and even in Chapel St.

The kind of delis that were a signpost of an earlier wave of migration to Australia, from Italy, Greece and continental Europe.

Well, in this case I simply hadn’t been looking hard enough. Or rather, my eyes didn’t see what wasn’t there.

Yes, there are many, many staples of your standard Melbourne-style deli – tinned tomatoes, jars of many different kinds of pickled vegetables, jams, wafer biscuits, a big range of dried fruit and nuts, stacks of sacked rice and beans and other pulses and much more.

What there is not, however, is meat in general and the many byproducts of pork in particular.

Owner George Sallama tells me his parents come from Jordan and Lebanon and that the family has run this business for 16 years.

And that Middle Eastern heritage no doubt explains a change I have been noticing at Johns – in a way that reflects the immediate changing community, the clientele is taking on a pronounced African slant.

For George, this is just simply doing smart business.

He tells me his African customers know where to head in his store for products and ingredients specific to their cooking and other needs.

These include the likes of sorghum and white cornflour for making injera.


But this new wave of customers also buys the same rice and beans and more as his other customers; they just use them differently, as we all know to our grand benefit!

Another speciality African item George stocks are what he calls mafraka.

These look like rudimentary walking sticks for persons of diminutive stature.

Wrong!

They’re actually a form hand-held beater used to help the cooking process of molokhia, the spinach-like dish found at many nearby African eateries.

George demonstrates by placing a mafraka between his hands, with the beater end downwards, and then briskly rubbing his hands together.

So simple!

My needs at Johns on this outing are simple – roasted almonds, dried apricots and white sultanas.

I include a couple of pieces of juicy baklava as an afterthought.

John’s Nuts & Deli is a living, breathing mirror to the changing face of Footscray.

Harmony Feast

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Maidstone Community Centre, 21 Yardley St, Maidstone. Phone: 9317 0747

This free event at the Maidstone Community Centre ticks so many excellent boxes for me I am entertaining visions of hordes of hungry, happy locals descending on Yardley St to graze hungrily among many dozens of food stalls.

So I am somewhat bemused to find the feast is considerably more low key than that, though no less enjoyable than expected – far from it.

The food serving is spread throughout several of the centre’s rooms and out the in the beaut back yard.

If the crowd is less populous and frenzied than I’d imagined, it is certainly a happy one, its members ranging as far and wide in size and age as they do in their dizzying array of skin colours.

And I expect many of them are just like me and enjoy a bash in which the term “multicultural” is one to be embraced and celebrated.

How did multicultural come to be such a dirty word with such negative connotations in Australia?

Rhetorical question folks! We all know their names.

Anyway, this lovely party is a poke in the eye for them – and especially those who of late have been making preposterous comparisons between Australia and the vastly different situations in, say, Germany, France and Scandanavia.

Oubt, you damn dog whistlers!


At each serving table there are neat stacks of a complementary cookbooks containing all the days recipes – very cool, eh?

I start with vegetable alicha and ye misir wot – a simple Ethiopian vegetable stew and a very dry lentil dish, both served with dark brown injera. Even before venturing elsewhere I return for a second serve!

Outside, I score a nice long snag on a slice of white bread, topped with South American roast tomato salsa. Ethiopian zilzil and satay sauce round out the topping choices.

In the centre’s kitchen, I obtain a homely and hearty bowl of polenta, white bean stew, basic short pasta in tomato sauce and a single meatball.

Outside again, I enjoy herb paste pizza that emanates from the wood-fired oven –  basic thin flat bread smeared with an oily, herby paste.

Seeing a range of drinks being dispensed in small cardboard cups that make the process look like mass medication, I jokingly ask if they have multicultural LSD before knocking back a couple of homemade lemonades.


Of the savoury dishes on hand, I miss only the rice paper rolls and tandoori chook. There are queues for both.

I pass by the lemonade scones and head for the Filipino buco pandan, a slithery, sexy, extremely green mix of grass jelly, condensed milk, cream, coconut, tapioca pearls and more.

The speechifying is kept to a minimum and every soul in the pace is having a fine old time as Ray Pereira gets a willing group of volunteers together for an African drumming session.

I believe this is the second Harmony Feast to be held at the centre, and I’ll be sure to make a point of attending the third.

Sourdough Kitchen

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172 Victoria St, Seddon. Phone: 9687 5662

Heading out for breakfast used to be a major part of our routine a few years back.

Mind you, we’re talking coffee and toast mostly – not the egg-heavy chow-down fry-up favoured by so many.

But our morning habits have evolved and changed.

We make our own muesli, and we know that’s very good for our insides, allowing us to be a little bit naughty during the rest of the day.

Besides, for cereal/muesli most cafes charge double the price listed for toast/jam.

Isn’t this exactly the wrong way around?

I mean, toast is grain made into something – bread.

Jam is fruit that’s been made into something.

Butter is milk that’s been churned.

Muesli is just grain, plus a few bits and pieces, yet in many places it goes for $10 or more.

We’d go the bacon/eggs/spinach/hashbrowns/snags/mushies/avocado/tomatos/kitchen sink route less than once a year.

And in terms of eating out, isn’t lunch or dinner so much more alive with potential for miracles and greatness?


But it is the near-complete absence of out-and-about brekkies from our lives that makes a Friday morning visit to Sourdough Kitchen charged with novelty value and a sense of refreshing change.

We’d not noticed preparations for the bakery before it opened, so were surprised when Deb trumpeted its debut at Bear Head Soup.

Since then we’ve visited several times – for coffee (very good) and takeaway scrolls (fruity, heavy, delicious).

We’ve also enjoyed several slices of primal pizza, including a fragrant chewy number topped with  zucchini, eggplant, some capsicum, olives, fresh rosemary, olive oil. The slices are scrumptious, cost $5.50 and have already become a lunchbox option for us.

Just like that (sound of fingers snapping) Sourdough Kitchen has become a splendid part of the local scenery. As I read my newspaper and enjoy my breakfast, a steady stream of customers come and go. Takeaway coffee, bread, rolls. Another couple of tables host locals deep into their caffeine hits and conversation.

My toast and jam costs $5.50 and is fine. I get three slices of good sourdough and more than enough butter. The strawberry jam, though, is a bit on the runny side and is almost all syrup and very little fruit.

As I’m going about my business I imbibe two outstanding lattes.

The brekkie tab is just a tad over $11.

The bakery is restricting its options to fairly light fare for both breakfast and lunch – see menu below – for what I have been told are reasons connected to power supply issues. For lunch, in addition to the pizza slices, there are some fine-looking filled rolls.

Sourdough Kitchen already feels like it’s been around for a lot longer than a mere month or so – and I mean that as a compliment!

Sourdough Kitchen on Urbanspoon

bowlz @ the deck

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

We love the way doing Consider The Sauce has changed our world – with the trying of more and different food just the start of it.

Happily, we are also finding ourselves meeting and conversing with a dazzling range of western suburbs folk whom we might never have otherwise met.

Equally happily, CTS is helping us look at our surroundings with a whole new set of eyes – not to mention tastebuds.

For this lunch on an overcast Thursday, though, I am merely hoping my lunch tastes better than it looks.

It does.

Heading out for my standard routine of Lebanese pie and shopping at the Circle in Altona, I surprise myself by turning right, suddenly inspired by the idea of checking out the Yarraville-Footscray Bowling Club.

After all, this is prime-time western suburbs – a venerable institution on Francis St past which we’ve driven a gazillion times without ever stopping to have a look. Or a feed.

I shudder at the mere glimpse of poker machines but march on and in – eventually discovering that not all “pokie venues” are the same.

The club’s bistro is called bowlz @ the deck, and it’s in that direction I head, sidestepping the lure of a snacky bar menu on which just about everything is under $10.

Most of the proper menu is beyond my lunch budget, but I zero in on the “seniors” section of the main list, every item on which goes for $11.90 at lunchtime Tuesdays through Thursdays.

On it are such things as rissoles and mash, whiting fillets and roast of the day.


The club also nominates Mondays as steak night, on which rump goes for $13.90, scotch for $5.90 and 600g T-bone for $21.90.

It’s no surprise my shepherd’s pie is quite unlike that what was made by mum – and maybe still is. She’ll no doubt let me know when she reads this. (Hi Mum!)

Her way is the traditional way and involves leftover roast lamb, hand-minced.

The bowlz variation, by contrast, is your basic beef stew topped with mashed spuds. Having said that, it tastes real good – the meat is tender and there’s plenty of it in a rich brown gravy.

The broccoli is overcooked, but the corn, carrots and cauliflower are good.

It’s simple, homely fare and I dig it a lot.

Maybe when I return with Bennie we’ll go for the $6 bar menu roast roll with gravy.

After eating, I wander around taking photos and talking to the staff. It’s a bowls club, yes, but has a warm and lived-in feel. The pokies are somewhat tucked away and obviously not the main game here. Hooray for that, too!

There are only a couple of the bistro tables taken, and it is from one of them that an elderly gent eventually peels away to check out what the weird guy with camera is up to.

This turns out to be Kevin Brown, a former secretary and long-time servant of the club.

After assuring him of my honourable intentions, he spends the wonderful next half hour or so regaling me with stories about the club and the struggles involved in keeping such an enterprise going in the face of threats from various quarters and no government funding at all.

We examine some of the photos that adorn the bistro walls, one of which is a 1950 shot of Anderson St – and still recognisably the same thoroughfare we use today.


I find him inspiring.

We even have a chuckle about the fact that among the club sponsors is a funeral service.

“Just about all bowls clubs have funeral directors on board,” says Kevin. “I’m 80.”

Seems obvious, eh? And somehow both brutally real AND comforting, reassuring.

I leave with a spring in my step, vowing to return sooner rather than later.

The Yarraville-Footscray Bowling Club website is here.


Kim Quynh

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56 Alfrieda St, St Albans. Phone: 9364 3872

Is there a dud eatery on Alfrieda St?

Even the charcoal chicken shop looks worth a go.

Truth is it’s still an adventure for us – and lots of fun.

But we really have little or no idea what we’re about when we’re there – it’s hit and miss for us, and that’s a kick all on its own.

For this holiday Monday lunch, once again we take our time, enjoying the sunshine as we stroll the full length of both sides of the street, just taking it all in.

We got lucky last time with the Chinese roast meats at Just Good Food – and we’re hoping our luck continues.

We veer away from the several restaurants that are jam-packed, with every table taken.

Likewise, we shun the single place we spot that has just a single table of customers.

We choose Kim Quynh based on the simple if unscientific premise that it’s busy and crowded with enough locals to guarantee a good feed while also having a few spare tables – which we hope means we’ll be welcome and not receive the sort of sloppy service and food that sometimes emanates from restaurants operating at fever pitch, with staff rushed off their feets.

We do good and a fine lunch ensues.

Kim Quynh is a mixed Viet/Sino joint that is across all the usual soups, noodles and rice dishes, with a menu that as usual has more formal sharing dishes of the Chinese variety towards the rear of the menu. Unlike most such places, it does pho, too.

After some reckless ordering the previous week at Dong Ba in Footscray, resulting in a meal unsatisfactory for us, we keep it simple and conservative by both ordering dishes we’ve had many times elsewhere.

Bennie goes for the tomato rice with stir-fried marinated diced beef (com bo luc lac, $10).


It’s damn fine.

The beef is lovely – so tender! The onions do that clever trick of being both crisp and sweet. This dish can sometimes be really heavy on the oil, but this is not such a one. The rice, laced with eggy bits and a few peas, has a nice nutty flavour.

The accompanying bowl of chicken broth is only lukewarm but good, while Bennie loves judiciously using the seasoned salt and lemon slice as his meal disappears.

Stupidly, though, when I photograph his meal I include the fish sauce/chilli/carrot concoction that is actually meant to go with my banh hoi bo la lot (grilled beef in vine leaves with fine rice vermicelli, $12).

My lunch looks a little on the dull side at first blush, but it, too, is fully satisfying.

It’s all there – crunchy peanuts, lettuce, herbs, spring onions, cucumber, carrot, bean sprouts.

The stubby bullets of beef wrapped in vine leaves are a little smaller than I am familiar with, but they are of delightful chewiness and pronounced cow flavour.

Substitute non-meat spring rolls for the beef and I reckon you’d have a perfect – and supremely healthy – vegetarian meal.

As there are options for these dishes closer to our Yarraville pad, it may be that visits to Kim Quynh will be rare for us.

But if we lived in its vicinity, we’d be steady regulars.

Leaping Lizard Cafe

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Brimbank Park, East Keilor. Phone: 9336 3909.

By the time we get to the Leaping Lizard Cafe in Brimbank Park, a great appetite is upon us.

Which is just as well, as the only thing memorable about the food is its pervasive dullness.

That assessment is based solely on foodie aesthetics, and as such may seem a little unfair.

After all, our lunch components are all of an edible nature; are not sprouting mould; involve no other critters, alive or dead, than those advertised; and are of colour schemes generally expected with such fare.

Moreover, the lunch is not much different from what have long been standard offerings at park-style kiosks as found in, for instance, Fitzroy Gardens in the city or Queens Lake Park in Moonee Ponds – even if such is not always the case these days.

And, in an odd sort of way, our trio of bacon and egg bagel ($5), ham-cheese-tomato toasted ($5) and chicken-avocado-cheese parcel ($6.50) are a perfect fit for the old-school ambience and furnishings of the Leaping Lizard.

The cardboardish bagel is a tasteless foil for even more tasteless bacon.

The sanger is OK, but also a tad tasteless and lacking zip.

The parcel has a nice cheesy tang, with an avocado presence that is all but subliminal. The accompanying salad bits and pieces are passable, but we hastily hustle the alfalfa sprouts from the plate. The stuff of vego ’80s nightmares!

Our lunch, with a small bottle of Pepsi, clocks in at $20.80.

As well, there are old-school made-to-order sandwiches and cakes/slices available, but nothing – as far as we can tell – more substantial.

It’s all very snacky.


But really, this sort of catering is doing such a beautiful setting a grave injustice.

The cafe building itself is low-slung, lovely and nestled amid trees.

The park, of which we have been oblivious for a decade, is of stunning beauty – as we ascertain in a brief amble around after our lunch.

Brimbank Park was a tip given to us by our mate Keith, at Heather Dell, and it was in the direction of another of his tips that our Saturday adventure commenced.

Heading for Mt Atkinson Olive Grove & Cafe in Rockbank, we are eventually confronted by half-closed and rusty gate, a winding, rutted road and an old homestead with corrugated iron roof warped and twisted in surreal ways.

Neighbours inform us that the whole shebang had suffered severe fire damage a few weeks earlier.

Disappointed, as no doubt Keith will be on hearing this sad news, we consult the Melways and conclude there is still time for a quick dash to Brimbank Park and a meal that can still viably be labelled lunch.

After some frantic driving, a few missed turns and some backtracking, we get there eventually – only to have a lacklustre meal.

Our post-lunch walk takes in just a small portion of the sprawling park.


We check out a pretty waterfall, while on a bluff overlooking the creek a Muslim family is happily enjoying a low-key picnic of their own making – including a gas burner atop which sits a coffee maker.

And I just know, without even daring to ask, that their picnic is a lot tastier and more interesting than our blandola lunch has been.

With a bit of love, imagination and flare, the Leaping Lizard Cafe could be a shining star of the western suburbs.

Any argument that their offerings are simply devised to give park patrons what they want doesn’t wash with me – not in a region of Melbourne bursting with cosmopolitan, multicultural flavours and character.

Meanwhile, Brimbank Park has shot right to the top of our list for places to hang on school holidays – it’s safe, accessible and gorgeous.

We’ll be packing a picnic for our next visit, though.

The Parks Victoria Brimbank Park page is here.

Music: Johnny Lytle – testifyin’ vibes; Howard Roberts – slinky west coast guitar; Stranger Cole – mega-soulful rocksteady.


Kabayan Filipino Restaurant And Asian Groceries

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Cairnlea Town Centre, 100 Furlong Rd, Cairnlea. Phone 8390 1346

In its relatively short life, Consider The Sauce has written about just two Filipino eateries – Kabayan and Kowloon House.

Yet because of the nifty, superb blogging platform provided by wordpress.com, and some additional data from StatCounter, I know for a fact that the entries on both those Filipino western suburbs joints, along with Filipino food and restaurants in general, generates more interest and search engine terms than just about anything else.

The interest comes from all over the world, but mostly from the Philippines – of course! – and Melbourne.

And each time we’ve been to Kabayan, one or more of the Filipino customers has made inquiries:

“Do you like Filipino food?”

“Are you enjoying your meal?”

That interest and intrigue mirrors my own as I set off to check out the newly revamped and reopened Kabayan.

It’s been moved around the corner to larger premises that allow the incorporation of a modest grocery section.

Other than that, much seems the same as on our previous visit.

This time, though, I give the grilled-to-order meals a miss and try my luck with the pot food arrayed in the bain marie.


And this time, thanks to a young Filipino man who talks me through the dishes available, I have a good idea of what I’m eating.

Here’s the deal – two dishes with rice for $9.50.

I settle on afritada and paksiw.

The chicken afritada is a braise/stew affair, with chook pieces on the bone and vegetables in a reddish sauce/gravy. It’s a sweet dish with a dash of the piquant about it – thus making it a little like your old-school  Cantonese sweet-and-sour concoction, but much wetter.

It’s OK, but the chicken pieces are of negligible flavour.

The paksiw is something else entirely.

From what I’ve since learnt, paksiw is apparently a vinegar-based stew, in my case of pork. The various recipes and info I find online make it sound interesting.

I wish what’s on my plate was half so appealing.

The dish has some tasty gravy that nevertheless seems bereft of vinegar zing, some fine and tender pork – but, oh my, there’s soooooo much fat.

In at least a couple of different contexts – traditional roast pork crackling and Chinese roast meats – I am usually easily swayed into enjoying such decadence.

But in this dish, there is nothing at all crackly or crunchy or alluring about the fat and skin – it’s all flabby, revolting, and mixed in with the sauce/gravy

Gross!

After eating what meat there is, I leave more than half the dish on my plate.


And so I depart Kabayan once more feeling that I am missing something, that I am simply not “getting it”.

Ah well, maybe that’s the way it’s meant to be – still, I find it surprising.

I am far from the most courageous diner around, but I like or love a wide range of cooking that ranges from the Mediterranean and the Middle East to the farthest reaches of East and South Asia.

Given that, I’ve been thinking Filipino food should be a natural fit.

But based on my very limited experience, the textures and flavours – not to mention the fat content! – are just too rich and unappealing for my palate.

Kabayan does fine grilled-to-order meals, of course, but at $12+ even those seem a stretch, given I can easily grab some Viet dishes that are similar, have more vegie contrasts and trimmings, and are cheaper and tastier.

And maybe that’s the rub right there …

Perhaps not so incoincidentally, as I am writing this Ms Baklover – reviewing First Taste at Footscray Food Blog – has opined:

My palate is heavily skewed towards fresh, light Vietnamese, Malaysian and South Indian flavours.

Very eloquent!

And, I suspect, the very reason I am struggling with Filipino food.

Kabayan Filipino Restaurant on Urbanspoon



African Affair/Croation Cultural Festival

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African Affair, Footscray Community Arts Centre

Croation Cultural Festival, Australian Croatian Association, 72 Whitehall St, Footscray

We love the idea of the Melbourne Food and Wine Festival, but in a practical sense never have really engaged with it – even this year’s “Feasting In Footscray” segment.

We are very much looking forward, however, to the Sunday arvo African Affair at the Footscray Community Arts Centre – hoping for some great sounds and tastes, and maybe a few familiar faces from our regular African haunts in the neighbourhood, all on the banks of the Maribyrnong River.

It is with some puzzlement then that we ramble around to the amphitheatre to find … nothing.

We subsequently find the above notice stuck to the centre’s office door – and feel a keen disappointment.

According to Only Melbourne, the event’s organisers – Diafrix and Footscray Community Arts Centre – “were unable to attract an event sponsor for 2011”.

No doubt they share our disappointment.

Nevertheless, it’s perplexing that such an event should have been included in the festival program, and widely promoted, only to be cancelled at the last minute – meaning we are surely among several hundred potential punters left with a sense of emptiness.


No matter – this is Melbourne, this is the western subrubs, this is Footscray, so all is never ever lost.

Leaving the car where it is, we simply stroll around the corner to Whitehall St and enter the raucous goings on of the Croation Cultural Festival, wherein we spend a very pleasant hour or so.

It’s a simple affair – a row of tents selling (mostly) food, a central marquee with tables packed families and more than a few blokes getting seriously into the festival spirit, a stage from whence Croatian-style rock pumps at a fairly hefty volume, and the centre’s bar/restaurant also doing grand business. It’s hot and noisy.

We scope out the food offerings before making our choices for what will amount to an early dinner.

This is festival food – lots of grilling going, mostly of bits and pieces of dead pig.

First up is a platter of grilled sardines and four skewers of prawns doused in garlciky olive oil, with a small serve of eastern Euro-style coleslaw and a couple of slices of bread – a mighty bargain for $5.

The prawns are of prime burstiness.

The sardines are rich, oily and very yummo. Rip the heads off and suck up the tender meat, with the spines coming away nicely. Bennie finds them not to his liking, but at least he tries one.

I send him off for a roll of pork neck and he returns with a hot dog – no problem, he likes it.


The pork neck roll ($5) I eventually grab is stuffed with meat strips of profound porkiness, unadorned and much like the meat served in a more formal setting of the adjacent centre’s restaurant, of which we are fans.

Finally, almost sated, we share a small serving of  goulas ($5), its sweet and rich gravy packed with tender meat on a bed of plump rice.

That’s it – enough food, enough noise, we’re off home, where a later supper is likely to be of little more substance than a few pieces of fruit.

Before departing, though, we sneak around the back of the food tents to watch the sardines and prawns being cooked.

After a while and a bit of friendly banter with the grill boys, we are presented with yet another plate of their lusty seafood, free of charge.

Oh dear!

We down the prawns, but only a few of the small fishes, whereupon we hasten for the gate before we are accosted by yet more friendly souls intent on killing us with their generosity.

 

Bennie’s birthday lunch at Grill’d

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Grill’d, Highpoint Shopping Centre. Phone: 9317 7455

Hey, a boy only turns 10 once, so Bennie got his wish of lunch at Grill’d followed by a movie with his mates Daniel and Tah, even if his mum and dad might have preferred yum cha.

I have vivid recall of our early days at Highpoint – just after we moved west, when Bennie was a somewhat fractious baby/toddler.

Those were my first experiences with the whole shopping mall gig, and the experience quite often made me profoundly batty, not to mention cranky and cantankerous.

The music, the lighting, the crap shops, the round and round – ugh!

We don’t share the outright hostility of some of our friends towards Highpoint, but we do keep visits to a minimum.

Moreover, we’ve refined our Highpoint technique to hit-and-run – we effortlessly filter out the stuff we don’t want or need; we know where to get a Medicare rebate, a cheap pair of shoes, a football or footy boots.

If the noise and piped music no longer sends me batty, it’s not because I’m a benumbed shopping zombie – more like I’m able to focus on our immediate task and ignore the rest to emerge unscathed, emotionally, spiritually and financially.

Food is another matter, of course, and on that score Highpoint is pretty much irredeemably awful.


Plum adjoins, but it’s never really hit the spot with us.

The food court at the southern end has a Laksa King – whether it’s any relation to the Flemington establishment, I know not. It does a passable Malaysian job, but like everything else surrounding, it is to be avoided if only because of the obscene wastefulness of the disposable plastic cutlery and bowls/plates.

The food court adjacent the Hoyts cinemas boasts a China Bar – again, whether it has connections with the identically named places around the city, I know not. Here you’ll get real cutlery and crockery and – in our experience – meals of a certain dullness. Scattered around are a faux 50s/60s diner at which our only experience was dismal and Nando’s, La Porchetta and Pancake Parlour outlets.

Based on a number of visits, though, Grill’d is the top pick.

As with previous meals here, the kids loved every bite and slurp, while the adults were once again astonished that such tasty, crunchy, fresh and real food was available from a franchise set-up in a shopping mall.

Our order was four basic burgers with bacon for the boys, likewise with beetroot for mum, soft drinks all round, two serves of chips with two serves of garlic mayo and five discount movie vouchers.

The chips were really, really good – ungreasy, beautifully seasoned with salt, perfumed with rosemary, simply superb.

The burgers were just about as good – bacon that added real flavour, beef patties with nicely chewy texture, sandwiches just right for a two-handed feast. Best of all, and in some ways disconcerting for being so unexpected, was salad greenery that provided tangible crunch.


The price four our meal and movies was – gulp! – $127.

But thinking it through, I realised this was quite reasonable – say $15 per head for the food and $10 for the movie, or even vice versa.

Not a screaming bargain, then, but not a ripoff either.

I’ve been asked a few times why we would even think of visiting Highpoint when we live a five-minute walk from Yarraville’s Sun Theatre – and a pretty good hamburger joint along the lines of Grill’d.

Well, the truth is that the Highpoint Hoyts/Grill’d combo provides precisely the sort of movie experience craved by kids – particularly a trio of stroppy 10-year-olds.

With time to spare, the boys headed to the whizzbangflash games arcade, each clutching a handful of gold coins, to expend some of their nervous energy and delight in each other’s company.

The movie? Gnomeo And Juliet was an OK animated feature, but the post-flick verdict was that it was a bit too girly for the four boys.

The Grill’d website is here.


Aksaray Turkish Kebab House/Stephz Gourmet Deli

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Aksaray Turkish Kebab House

74 Glengala Rd, Sunshine. Phone: 9310 1377

Stephz Gourmet Deli

64 Glengala Rd, Sunshine. Phone: 9364 7488

Having scoped this west Sunshine place out, unhungry, a few nights previously, I hold no great expectations on entering Aksaray for lunch – maybe a nice Turkish kebab plate: meat, salad, rice, dip, bread.

That changes as soon as I walk through the door and am immediately served a sample of a freshly made soup – as is every customer who follows me –  free of charge.

It’s a fantastic vegetable concoction – just carrot, onion, celery and seasonings of pepper, salt, oregano. It’s blended just right – well short of being a creamy soup, leaving some grainy texture that gives it substance. Marvellous!

Turns out this is the start of a major overhaul of the offerings available at Aksaray – an overhaul I suspect will make it far more interesting than just another kebab/dips joint.

In a few weeks time they’ll be unveiling a revolving lineup of soups, casseroles, stews and more home-style Turkish food – and I reckon that’s exciting.

For all that we love the normal restaurant fare of our various Mediterranean eateries, we all know it’s just one aspect of the various cuisines involved – eatery food and home food is different.

Bring it on – I’ll be there with my bib on!

My adana kebab lunch platter doesn’t reach the same heights as the soup, but does the job.

Chewy lamb adana is overshadowed by the strips of doner kebab provided usasked for; nice rice, tabouli that is of my preferred wetness, OK bread, slightly fried.

The star is the cacik – a creamy yogurt dip zingy with garlic and chunky with cucumber.

As I’m enjoying my lunch a steady parade of regulars comes and goes, many leaving with kebab sandwiches to go, many with lovely looking boreks of chicken or lamb, all having sampled the super soup.

The chicken borek ($3) I take home for the night’s dinner is brilliant, the shredded chook stuffing subtlety flavoured with parsley and pepper and the mouthfuls of pleasure enlivened by finely diced  onion, cooked but still a little on the crunchy side..

From there I amble up the road apiece to Stephz Gourmet Deli.

This is classic western suburbs.

Sited in what once was a servo, it’s a mix of continental grocery, Greek bakery and coffee bar – all with a Maltese waitress!


I have a crash-hot $3 latte and a 50c piece of what looks like biscotti, but which is emphatically non-Italian. It’s plain, almost savoury, topped with sesame seeds, is called – as near as Athena, another waitress, can translate – pazematia. Subsequent research reveals that a more precise term may be paximathakia – in any case it goes great with my coffee.

Being too full from lunch to countenance richer sweet goodies, I nevertheless ogle the cake/cookie displays. All the goodies are baked on the premises, with a range of rum balls looking particularly evil and desirable. I settle for a slice of very fine baklava to take home with me.

Aksaray Turkish Kebab House on Urbanspoon




Amin Cafe

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Little Khartoum Arcade/The Footscray Hub. Phone: 0401 008 957

The signs at either end – one on Nicholson St, the other on Albert St – still describe it as The Footscray Hub “Business Centre” – but in some quarters at least it is known as Little Khartoum Arcade.

Walking through it has become one of the “secret” treasures of living in the west.

There are money transfer places, shops selling T-shirts and cosmetic products, others with perfumes and spices – and even a few old-style barber establishments, one that recently gave me a fine haircut.

All of it speaks of Footscray’s African diaspora with a relaxed and “we belong” vibe.

The only disappointment for me has been the lack of an eatery from which to chow down and enjoy the great atmosphere.

I walked past the only place selling food many times, but was unimpressed by scant display of large samosas – sambusas in African parlance – so ambled on, bound ususally for Babylon or some other food place.

Than I heard  a whisper that more substantial fare was available from Amin Cafe for the asking.  I think I heard this very valuable information from Ms Baklover of Footscray Food Blog, but have been unable to find proof in either emails or blogs.

In any case, thanks!

For this information inspired me to inquire – with happy results.


After a brief discussion with the welcoming proprietor – yes, I am hungry, yes meat and rice will be fine – I am served with a meal that, no surprise, was familiar from our delicious forays to another Somalian refuge, Safari Restaurant in Ascot Vale.

My $12.50 lunch had some pan-fried lamb (halib) that looked a little gray and lacklustre, but was fine and tender. Also on board was a terrific chicken drumstick (doora), slightly coated with bread crumbs and seasoned. And there were some lettuce and tomato for colour and crunch.

But the star was the rice – as with so many of our experiences with north African and Middle Eastern food.

This was magic – but magic of a minimalist kind.

No sultanas, strands of fried onion, peas, almonds or other colour – just the odd bit of translucent onion and perfect rice, cooked in chicken stock with some lemon pepper and a seasoning mix called Zacin.

All my lunch was very mildly seasoned, but a small plastic tub of a fiery chilli condiment helped kick things along.

There are only three small tables at Amin Cafe, but they’re all taken as I enjoy my meal – all by what appear to be regulars.

As well, there was a steady trade from what I take to be similarly frequent customers for the sambusas – either lamb or fish – so I buy two for my next day’s work lunch. Even cold they’re good – lamb in one, canned tuna in the other, both with fine chewy pastry and filling given texture from cooked but still crunchy onion.

I’ll be back to Amin Cafe, for it gives me the same delectable satisfaction as eating at the communal table in the kitchen at Pelligrini’s in the CBD


Sekai Japanese Ramen

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Shop 194, 81 Hopkins St, Footscray. Phone: 9687 1088

Best to be upfront about it: If you hold to notions of purity when it comes to Japanese food, if you like real Japanese tucker – not Japanese-style – then Sekai will likely disappoint.

It is, by our reckoning at least, firmly of the latter persuasion – but our latest visit there tasted fine and seemed more, ahem, “Japanese” than the lacklustre “sushi rolls” hordes the have become so popular as lunchtime fare.

As such, Sekai is virtually identical to many ramen/udon joints found the length and breadth of Melbourne’s CBD.

Nor would I go as far as one punter at Urbanspoon, who opined there was “nothing Japanese about it”.

Our visit came about by way of Bennie’s determination to eat “on the other side of the street”, indicating the Footscray Market – and less restaurant-cluttered – side of Hopkins St.

On a much earlier visit, just after it had opened, I had the gyu tan don – ox tongue in red wine sauce  on rice ($10). It was wonderful.

This time, with son on hand, a mandatory order was always going to be a serve of their seaweed salad ($4).

Bennie loves it, and I do too, so I figured it was about time to find out what makes this dish tick – and if, as I suspected, it wasn’t half as healthy as it appears to be at first blush. Could something as slinky, sexy and delicious be all good?

Some subsequent research reveals that other than seaweed, the dressing commonly includes sugar, vinegar, a little chilli, sesame oil and seeds, soy sauce and even dashi.

Far from the evil I feared, then.

In any case, the Sekai version was sensational – more coarse and crunchy than we’re used to, but every mouthful was a slithery taste delight, with a lovely balance of sweet and sour flavours. It lasted – maybe – two minutes.

I really dig the way Bennie is fast developing a feel and intuition for what will work for him when scanning a menu.

A paternal guiding hand is still sometimes required, but this time he got it right – his katsu don ($8.50) was just what he needed and desired.

A generous serve of crunchily crumbed pork doused in tonkatsu sauce rested atop what amounts to an omelette laced with carrot, peas and red onion, which in turn sat on a solid bed of rice.

Bennie loved it.

My pork ramen ($9) was more murky when it comes to matters of Japanese heritage – another Urbanspoon poster had a point when he quipped: “Ramen?? More like 2 minute noodles…”

It’s true the broth seemed more Sino than Nippon, and had little or no miso/soy tang, while the noodles likewise seemed far from authentic.

But it tasted good, the roast pork being generous of serve, both tender and chewy – and profoundly unlike Chinese roast pork. Greenery came via some nice spinach.

It was a quick, cheap and satisfying lunch.

If you’re happy with Japanese-style food and are prepared to select carefully, Sekai remains worthy of consideration.

Sekai Japanese Ramen on Urbanspoon

Hyderabad Inn

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551 Barkly St, West Footscray. Phone: 9689 0998

We’re surprised how many folks assume that because we’ve embarked on a food blog that we’re eating out more than ever.

That’s simply not the case – we’re just doing what we’ve always done, which means we dine out three, maybe four times a week.

I’ll concede that’s more than most people do – even in the cheap as chips west – but it hardly seems excessive to us.

The highlight, though, is always Saturday lunch – work/school done with, chores/shopping performed, it’s time to get on the fang with relish. So to speak …

This Saturday we are delighted to have our buddy Kurt along for the ride.

He broke his ankle a few weeks back, and has been experiencing varying degrees of pain, discomfort and inconvenience ever since, so we’re chuffed to get him out and about for a few hours.

Even better, this is his first dosa experience – and we’re thrilled it turns out be an excellent one.


We’d been keeping an eye on this place, half a video store refurbished, for a couple of weeks, waiting for it to open – ever since Bennie noticed the new signage.

In fact, we’d turned up a few days previously only to find it was their first day and they wouldn’t be opening until 5pm.

Happily, another new place – Wok Noodle – was a more than adequate stand-in on that day.

But it’s all on at Hyderabad Inn for Saturday lunch!

This is a nice, big room, tastefully kitted out in a somewhat spartan fashion – which suits us fine.

Unlike so many other places that serve doas, idlys, vadas and the like, this is a full-service Indian restaurant.

The menu boasts a full range of curries, tandoori dishes, Indo-Chinese tucker and so on. Most curries are priced around the $11 mark.


But we’re here for the south Indian goodies. They suit our budget better, we like the flavours and textures, and a fully satisfying meal doesn’t leave us feeling full … as in over-full.

There’s a wide range of dosas, uttapams and the like from which to choose – including a variety of combos.

Kurt goes for the Dosa Deal – dosa of choice (chicken in this case), one apiece of idly and vada, sambar, the usual coconutty sides and a can of soft drink.

This is an outstanding deal for $9.95.

The crumbly minced chicken is delicious, the vada doughnut is unique of flavour and surprisingly soft on the tooth, and the whole deal, including the sambar and coconut chutneys, is a delight. The idly, served on a separate plate, is less to Kurt’s fancy at first … but it, too, disappears in due course.

Bennie and I order the Chef’s Dosa ($10.50) and a lamb biryani ($10.50).

The Chef’s Dosa is stuffed with the same chicken and also separate portions of equally crumbly lamb, spiced paneer with coriander and the usual spuds. It’s all great, with the potatoes more gooey than found in your average masala dosa – almost like a stew.

I’ve never seen Bennie enjoy a dosa more.


The biryani is fine, if not quite meeting the same top-shelf standards as the rest of our order. Embedded in the spicy rice are fried onion strands and three tender portions of lamb on the bone, while the dish is rounded out by a lovely hard-boiled egg, runny raita and a gravy that also seems to have a high coconut quotient.

Cheap Indian food can sometimes mean cheap service.

Such is emphatically not the case at Hyderabad Inn – and that alone seems to make its chances of prospering, in what is becoming an ultra-competitive neighbourhood, very good.

We’ll be back for sure!

Hyderaabad inn on Urbanspoon

Hyderabad Inn website here.


Wok Noodle

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Shop 1/92 Charles St, Seddon. Phone: 9689 9475

Noel, Wok Noodle’s front man, reckons his joint is the first Malaysian restaurant in the western suburbs – and I reckon he’s right.

There’s a few places in Foostcray central, and a few more in Williamstown, from whence you can order a laksa or a mee goreng, but often the only relationship such dishes ordered in such places have with Malaysia is strictly nominal.

The nearest dinkum Malaysian, and really fine Malaysian at that, is to be had in Flemington – well within Consider The Sauce territory but not, as Noel points out, strictly speaking in the western suburbs.

So Wok Noodle is it – and very welcome it is, too.

In fact, it seems truly bizarre in a neighbourhood wherein within a few kilometres one can dine Vietnamese, Chinese, Indian and various African styles that it has taken this long for a Malaysian eatery to set up shop.

The previous inhabitant of these Charles St premises had lived a relatively long but obviously hard-going life as an awkward compromise between a snacky cafe and one of those places that sells pre-made meals for heating up at home. But their curries, stews, salads and soups always seemed so preposterously over-priced that I am suspicious of Wok Noodle in case there is connection or hangover from the previous tenants.

No, there is not.

Indeed, the prices are all ball park for this kind of food – soup and wok noodles all $10.50, Hainan chicken rice for $11.50, sambal dishes for $14.50 and up depending on your taste in seafood, two curry puffs for $5.

A plain roti costs $3.50, or you can have it with potato ($7) or chicken curry ($8.50), or peanut sauce ($6).

Gado gado costs $9.50.

As the above illustrates, the menu range at Wok Noodle is orthodox Malaysian – but that’s fine by us, particularly if the food is as consistently good as that presented us in our first meal.

The interior is bright and breezy, there is a good view of the kitchen action and chilled water is delivered unasked to our table.

My mee goreng is minus the tomato tang often part of this dish, and very mildly spiced, but nevertheless delicious. Big and bursty prawns, fishcake, tofu, chicken, egg, sprouts, some greenery all dance delightedly with a lip-smackingly fine dark brown curry gravy and egg noodles. It’s topped with shredded lettuce, while a slice of lemon on the side does good work near the end of my meal, tarting things up just when needed.

Not for the first time, Bennie finds the lure of both dumplings AND roast pork impossible to ignore, so orders the wonton broth – a basic brew of thin egg noodles with very good dumplings and slices of pig, greenery courtesy of choy sum, all in chicken broth. It’s plain but satisfying.

And that’s our first of what is likely to be many meals at Wok Noodle.

Wok Noodle on Urbanspoon

Lemat Injera Bakery

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157 Nicholson St, Footscray. Phone: 9689 006

There is much more to Ethiopian food – and the broader north African food culture that has become such integral part of western suburbs life – than injera.

But in many ways, injera is emblematic of colours, flavours and aromas that are so alluring.

So I am thrilled beyond words to be invited to witness injera being made at Lemat Bakery, in the heart of Footscray’s lovely African hub of Nicholson St.

The establishment is managed – and the injera made – by Sesen Assefa. Her genial and voluble husband prefers to stay in the background, but is happy to provide me all the information I need.

The couple met in the very early ’90s, in Sudan, and like so many endured many long years in exile and of menial jobs before opening their bakery in 2006 – just as the influx of north African diaspora into Melbourne’s west began in earnest.

In Ethiopia, injera is made with teff.

As it will soon be in Australia, restrictions on its importation apparently having been lifted or soon to be.

Given that teff is a grain of mightily ancient heritage, I reckon this can only be a good thing in a world in which the shrinking gene pool and diversity of seed stores is under threat.


In the meantime, like the Vietnamese community and others before them, the folks at Lemat have been doing just fine with what’s at hand, modifying recipes with locally available ingredients for the best, most authentic results.

That means the injera we have all been enjoying is made with a mixture of flours – maize, self-raising and wholemeal wheat, sorghum and barley.

The batter is fermented for 24 hours – no yeast or other agents are used – before being deftly poured on to hot, round platters.

In a minute or so, the injera – smooth side down, spongy side up – is ready to be equally skillfully slipped on to straw mats and placed on long tables with the rest of the day’s order.

As well the bakery produces “sweet”, unfermented injera for its Sudanese customers.

The Lemat output is split between restaurants, groceries and families.

The aroma is like that of any other bakery – but in many ways so very different. And quite intoxicating!


Out front, I delight in a half-hour conversation with Mr Lemat – a virtual crash course for me that ranges from injera and Ethiopian food in general through to Coptic Christianity, the dynamics of “facebook revolution” and the role they are playing in north Africa (including Algeria that very morning), the equally fascinating nuances and subtleties that accompany inter-actions between the various African communities in Footscray (and Melbourne in general), contemporary Ethiopia, the Sundanese separation referendum and much more.

As we are talking, the manager of Awash comes and goes with her daily order of injera, but it is no less likely that the staff of Khartoum – just a few doors up the street, and nominally a Sudanese restaurant – will drop in for injera to go with the Ethiopian dishes on their menu.

My humble thanks to the people of Lemat Injera Bakery for sharing with me their stories and their baking skills.


Yarraville Festival

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Yummo: Bennie hooks into a super iced chocolate ($6.50) at Co’klat; his mother wishes she was doing likewise.

Yarraville Central, February 11, 2011

The number of Yarraville Festivals we’ve hung out at is a bit of a blur, memory wise.

It’s always fun and cool in that it’s manageable in terms of size – just a few blocks and maybe 3-4000 people, tops. The St Kilda Festival it is not.

In terms of food, as with all festivals – it seems to me – the idea is better than the execution. All too often it seems we all get excited about paying for food that is not as fine and funky as we’d normally get, pay more for it and consume it in less than ideal circumstances from plastic containers.

This year I made do with a platter of rogan josh, rice, onion bhaji and samosa from the Tandoori Times stall – with a can of that Coca Cola stuff, the damage was a tad under $10.

I also had a cheapo sausage on a roll with heaps of mustard from one of several stands selling such like and gyros. I gobbled it up while talking to Keith from Heather Dell.

I got the day’s caffeine hit from Co’klat, a small, new place specialising in all things chocolate that had escaped our attention until our next door neighbour, Dulcie, spoke of its excellence.

I had two good coffees there, the second with Bennie and his mum. The boy loved his iced chocolate.

Co’klat was reasonably busy, but also like a little calm oasis in the middle of the festival noise and bustle.

As always with festivals, especially one as neighbourhood-oriented as this, was running into friends – crash, bang, wallop!

As I was wearing the official Consider The Sauce Spongebob T-shirt, a regular reader, Kristine, spotted me in the crowd and introduced herself. She’s also a fan of Footscray Food Blog, Bear Head Soup and the Africa Taste salad.


I saw the Ross Hannford Trio playing Tequila.

We marvelled at the mindblowing diversity of dogs in attendance – everything from microwave oven size to outhouse size, from drop dead gorgeous to the most ordinary of mutts.

We noted the high number ageing hippies, of both genders, in the crowd.

We walked round and round.

We went home.

Doing research into Winston Churchill’s third nipple.


Steampacket Hotel

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13 Cole St, Williamstown. Phone 9399 9600

I was in it for the company – which was all to the good, as I’m hardly enamoured with pub food.

Especially after our recent disappointment at the Ashley.

Our most local “local”?

Yikes!

But this was a fun night out – $12 steaks and free entry into that night’s trivia quiz.

My three dining partners – Deb from Bear Head Soup, her bloke Dave and Ms Baklover/Lauren from Footscray Food Blog – had heaps of good things, mind you, to say about the Station Hotel in Footscray.

And between the four of us we fancied we had enough all-round general knowledge – and few areas of arcane expertise up our sleeves – to put in a good showing in the trivia.

My previous visit to the Steampacket had been about five or so years before – to see my mate Ashley and his pals from the Louisiana Shakers pounding out some of their old-style New Orleans jazz.

Like so many pubs in the west, it has undergone change – although not so much as to completely ruin the place.

And there are no pokies!


The place was packed on Thursday’s steak/trivia night – and therein lies the biggest criticism we had.

The noise level was very, very high.

For most of the night it seemed to be at almost rock concert levels, forcing tablemates to shout instead of converse.

Indeed, such was the racket that we – cocooned in the pub’s dining room – were utterly unaware there had been a no doubt loud and raucous thunderstorm outside until I split for a few minutes to move my potentially ticket-attracting car.

The Steampacket boasts an inviting menu and a blackboard of specials at the rear of the dining room. It covers a broad range of steaks, seafood, pastas, salads, burgers, parmas and so on. If I return with Bennie in tow, it’ll likely be for the $11.90 main meal specials that are served on Mondays, Tuesdays and Wednesdays from 6pm – see poster below for that week’s line-up.

But as pre-trivia repast, our entire table ordered the same meal – medium rare porterhouse. There are other, more pricey cuts available as part of the Thursday night deal, but none over $20.

We were all pleased with our meals – they did what was expected, if without sending us into raptures.

Steaks of a decent size and little on the chewy side. Yeah, yeah, I know – what did we expect for $12?

My chips were on the flabby side, and I could’ve done with more of them, and the salad bits and pieces were a tad straggly.

But the onion gravy I asked to be served on the side came in a little bowl, and was sweet and delicious for dipping into it every forkful of beef.

Yes, tartare sauce does float in beer.

The trivia was something else.

Bracing ourselves to be quizzed on all sorts of wide-ranging topics, we were instead assailed with probing queries on what amounted to little more than bogan pop culture.

We even had to take a punt on one of five entrants in a pot-skulling contest. We got that one right.

Still, we far from disgraced ourselves – or should that be the other way round, given that we did quite well and considering the general nature of the questions?

Dave stepped up with a few sports answers, and I opined – correctly – that if Winston Churchill had a third nipple I’d have known about it.

In the “sink or swim” section, and basing our answer on the fact that oil floats, we correctly guessed that tartare sauce would float in beer.

The trivia guy proved it – and then got a punter to skull the result. Heck, I don’t think he got any points for his for his brave efforts, either!

But mostly it was a matter of movies, TV programs, pop music and celebs that I’d barely heard of, let alone seen or heard.

When I returned the next day to take some pics, the staff said the previous night’s line of questioning should not necessarily to be taken as normal, and that the trivia quiz differed from week to week.

The Steampacket Hotel website is here.

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