went to the undertaker tonight. but fear not, it's not a dead person typing here, and i'm not due to go to a funeral (touch wood).
the undertaker is the name of a new-ish restaurant in hawthorn. not your typical suburban thing, thank goodness, but not really city-standard either. prices are less reasonable than the city - probably due to lack of direct competition - there aren't many real restaurants in the eastern suburbs. let me be fair - to be precise, mains were reasonably priced, while 'small plates to share' and desserts were not. the 'small plates' were indeed 'small', but unless you have a scalpel on hand, not so easy 'to share'. desserts lacked skill - very little cooking or even assembly is involved, and the servings were small, but nonetheless they cost the price of a decent lunch with coffee (around $12). i had a chestnut cake with roasted quinces and a yogurt/cream thing. the cake was something i could have easily made, and the serving was easily one sixteenth of the whole cake. the quinces were cold. no, not room temp, cold.
anyhow, to their credit, nothing was bad. my little quail was actually quite tender and juicy, though a little lacking in flavour, but the combination with fresh grapes was pleasing and unexpected. the grilled sticks of polenta on the side were very well made. this is probably the only dish i'd ever recommend here. my gnocchi with black cabbage and something else (i've forgotten) was tiny - though it would've helped, visually, if it weren't served in finger bowl sized crockery. hmm, and i just realised - where was my black cabbage? i had loads of spinach but surely...
the wine list is decent; there are several choices by the glass, which was great cause it was just dad and i and he was having fish. (i hardly ever have white wine by choice.) my milkwood 2003 pinot noir was surprisingly nice for an australian pinot. flowery on the nose, light but rounded on the tongue - i shan't go into it any more cause i'm no wine commentator. i'm worse than an amateur :P all i can say is i want to go out and buy a dozen.
a value for money suburban place it is not, but for a mid week i'm-too-lazy-to-cook-or-go-out-and-i-feel-rich-this-week night, it's a decent bet. and apparently, they can do bookings for up to ten people (without it being a 'function' with reduced menus and all that crap), which is pretty cool if you tend to have dinners with extended family (yes, i am speaking from many years' experience). it's got a nice looking bar too, so it might be a good place to pop into for a late night drink and dessert with friends. speaking of good-looking, the decor isn't bad - you can tell they spent heaps on it; though i've never understood why restaurant interiors in melbourne are becoming increasingly ignorant of acoustics. too many places end up sounding like sunday yum chas on busy nights.
it's very popular with the easterners, so remember to book. (though beware that they do have one of those horrid "press 1 for X" recordings...)
the undertaker
329 burwood road (near cnr glenferrie road)
hawthorn 3122
tel: 98183944
open: daily noon-3pm, 6-10pm
[edit]
forgot to say that this place has this funny name because they took over the site of a real undertaker... scaryyyyyyy kakaka
Tuesday, May 09, 2006
Friday, May 05, 2006
Intellectual property - Journal
Okay, fine. I admit. I’m a nerd. Letting me loose in a library or a bookshop is like dropping a strawberry into a chocolate fondue: you’ll literally have to fork me out; and simple conversations with me can lead to full-blown discussions about whether the concept of a truly global organisation is a myth.
Journal, a café on the corner of Flinders Lane and Degraves Street, tucked neatly into the City Library inside the CAE, is the perfect place for us nerds, ahem, intellectuals. And you needn’t worry about being glued to your book (and hence your seat) or have begun a never-ending debate, because fortunately, they’re open until late on weekdays, a rare sight for cafés in the CBD.
The timber bookshelves hanging above the communal tables complete the literary atmosphere without the stuffiness of an old bookshop thanks to the large windows opening up to the view of boho Flinders Lane and the equally chic Library.
In the evening they serve antipasto as well as a range of small dishes, such as salads, bruschetta and soup, and have ‘construct your own roll’ offerings greatly anticipated by the hungry CBD hoards at lunchtime.
My chickpea and vegetable soup was a tomato-based broth with small hunks of potato and carrot along with a generous handful (or two) of chickpeas, making it a very pleasant and comforting soup to have on that cold, rainy (aka typical Melbourne) night. It came with a slice of toast drizzled in olive oil, as do their salads, like the witlof, pear and ricotta salad, or the more traditional Italian rocket and tomato.
The roast pumpkin and fetta bruschetta was excellent. Thick, sweetly roasted golden wedges of pumpkin lay atop a large slice of toasted sourdough, the whole thing finished off with a generous slice of fetta and a sprinkling of spices.
As for sweets, they have several danishes as well as Portuguese egg tarts and little bars of rocky roads. They’re all displayed up front, so leave your debating opponent to conjure up new arguments for a minute and wander up for a glimpse. They act more as an accompaniment to the coffee (which is superb, so why you would want anything else to steal the show?), rather than shine on their own, but my pear danish was pleasing nonetheless.
The service is friendly enough, though timing could be better. Having arrived early in the evening with the place not exactly buzzing, we weren’t expecting to be asked every three seconds whether we were ready to order yet. We had made it clear we were to order food, so giving us a couple more minutes to study the menu (especially when written on a chalkboard a fair way from our table) would only seem natural. When we were ready to order however, staff attention seemed to have diverted from us.
Everything at Journal, the lighting, the surroundings, the general hum of the place, the food and the coffee (oh my goodness, did I mention the coffee?) is almost faultless, and it exudes that kind of welcoming sensation that you get when you arrive home and know you can just curl up with a book and forget about the trivial things in life like who’s going to do the dishes. I mean, when did you last hear of Sartre or Confucius worrying about chores?
Journal
253 Flinders Lane (corner Degraves Street)
Melbourne 3000
Tel: +613 9650 4399
Open: Mon-Fri 6.30am-late, Sat 8am-6pm
Journal, a café on the corner of Flinders Lane and Degraves Street, tucked neatly into the City Library inside the CAE, is the perfect place for us nerds, ahem, intellectuals. And you needn’t worry about being glued to your book (and hence your seat) or have begun a never-ending debate, because fortunately, they’re open until late on weekdays, a rare sight for cafés in the CBD.
The timber bookshelves hanging above the communal tables complete the literary atmosphere without the stuffiness of an old bookshop thanks to the large windows opening up to the view of boho Flinders Lane and the equally chic Library.
In the evening they serve antipasto as well as a range of small dishes, such as salads, bruschetta and soup, and have ‘construct your own roll’ offerings greatly anticipated by the hungry CBD hoards at lunchtime.
My chickpea and vegetable soup was a tomato-based broth with small hunks of potato and carrot along with a generous handful (or two) of chickpeas, making it a very pleasant and comforting soup to have on that cold, rainy (aka typical Melbourne) night. It came with a slice of toast drizzled in olive oil, as do their salads, like the witlof, pear and ricotta salad, or the more traditional Italian rocket and tomato.
The roast pumpkin and fetta bruschetta was excellent. Thick, sweetly roasted golden wedges of pumpkin lay atop a large slice of toasted sourdough, the whole thing finished off with a generous slice of fetta and a sprinkling of spices.
As for sweets, they have several danishes as well as Portuguese egg tarts and little bars of rocky roads. They’re all displayed up front, so leave your debating opponent to conjure up new arguments for a minute and wander up for a glimpse. They act more as an accompaniment to the coffee (which is superb, so why you would want anything else to steal the show?), rather than shine on their own, but my pear danish was pleasing nonetheless.
The service is friendly enough, though timing could be better. Having arrived early in the evening with the place not exactly buzzing, we weren’t expecting to be asked every three seconds whether we were ready to order yet. We had made it clear we were to order food, so giving us a couple more minutes to study the menu (especially when written on a chalkboard a fair way from our table) would only seem natural. When we were ready to order however, staff attention seemed to have diverted from us.
Everything at Journal, the lighting, the surroundings, the general hum of the place, the food and the coffee (oh my goodness, did I mention the coffee?) is almost faultless, and it exudes that kind of welcoming sensation that you get when you arrive home and know you can just curl up with a book and forget about the trivial things in life like who’s going to do the dishes. I mean, when did you last hear of Sartre or Confucius worrying about chores?
Journal
253 Flinders Lane (corner Degraves Street)
Melbourne 3000
Tel: +613 9650 4399
Open: Mon-Fri 6.30am-late, Sat 8am-6pm
Fine wining - Gertrude Street Enoteca
What would Melbourne be without its rightful scattering of cafés? For a long time we’ve boasted the most restaurants per capita in Australia, as well as claiming our superiority for all things foodie. Recent years have seen the emergence an increasing number of casual but wine-focused eating places around town, such as City Wine Shop on Spring Street, and Gertrude Street Enoteca in Fitzroy.
Gertrude Street is definitely the food-lover’s street of the season, with an organic baker and food store, a great pizza place (Ladro) that’s worth every ounce of hype it’s received since opening, even a bookstore that specializes in cookbooks (Books for Cooks). Gertrude Street Enoteca (enoteca is the Italian name for a wine shop which could also be a bar/café) completes the landscape beautifully.
Passing by in a car, the enoteca’s humble exterior reveals little of the greatness within. Look into the deep space and you will gasp upon seeing the abundance of wines lining the walls. Step in and you will stand in amusement of the chains of garlic, bay leaves and cured meats descending from the ceiling, their aromas filling the Scandinavian-chic marble and blonde wood room, wafting amid the gratifying scent of coffee.
We arrive for lunch a little early, but unfortunately not early enough for breakfast, so we wait, musing at the range of wines – Italian (of course), French, Australian, New Zealand, but to list a few of the origins – while the small selection of lunch choices are being made in the back kitchen by the lovely Rosa with whom we chatted while enjoying a refreshing prickly pear salad. (Although I think poor Rosa was feeling less than refreshed about having to handle the spiky fruits.) The golden-yellow fruits have a pleasing texture, in between mango (a similar stringy, fibrous quality) and cantaloupe, and lay, assembled in a spontaneous manner, with rocket, prosciutto and parmesan. The salty cured taste of the wonderfully stretchy prosciutto, is helped by the shavings of parmesan to articulate how great antipasti ingredients can be. Though for more antipasti, they have a platter, which has been all the rave in Melbourne recently.
There are three sandwich-type offerings today – a focaccia with pickled artichokes, provolone and rocket, a panini with zucchini frittata, fetta, mint and rocket, and a porterhouse panini with horseradish mayonnaise, cheddar, caramelized onions and lettuce, which we chose. The porterhouse was thin, but would still be classified as a steak for its juiciness. The whole panini was spruced up by the great condiments, particularly the onions that were caramelized so well I thought those soft translucent strings were relish. We had been seriously prepared to ask them to warm it up for us, as we knew to do this by default in most cafés, but to our delight, it arrived crisp, tender, warm, and not too thick. The art of a good sandwich is revealed when the hungry customer raises it to a vertical and yet hardly anything falls out.
Gertrude Street Enoteca isn’t about fancy pansy food. It’s about having a relaxing time with good food, wine and company. I needn’t be reminded that I must be back soon for some late night drinks and antipasto, if I’m lucky enough to find a table, that is.
Average spending per person: $10-15 (excluding wine)
Gertrude Street Enoteca
229 Gertrude Street
Fitzroy 3065
Tel: +613 9415 8262
Open: Mon – Fri: 8.30am – late, Sat: 10am – late
Gertrude Street is definitely the food-lover’s street of the season, with an organic baker and food store, a great pizza place (Ladro) that’s worth every ounce of hype it’s received since opening, even a bookstore that specializes in cookbooks (Books for Cooks). Gertrude Street Enoteca (enoteca is the Italian name for a wine shop which could also be a bar/café) completes the landscape beautifully.
Passing by in a car, the enoteca’s humble exterior reveals little of the greatness within. Look into the deep space and you will gasp upon seeing the abundance of wines lining the walls. Step in and you will stand in amusement of the chains of garlic, bay leaves and cured meats descending from the ceiling, their aromas filling the Scandinavian-chic marble and blonde wood room, wafting amid the gratifying scent of coffee.
We arrive for lunch a little early, but unfortunately not early enough for breakfast, so we wait, musing at the range of wines – Italian (of course), French, Australian, New Zealand, but to list a few of the origins – while the small selection of lunch choices are being made in the back kitchen by the lovely Rosa with whom we chatted while enjoying a refreshing prickly pear salad. (Although I think poor Rosa was feeling less than refreshed about having to handle the spiky fruits.) The golden-yellow fruits have a pleasing texture, in between mango (a similar stringy, fibrous quality) and cantaloupe, and lay, assembled in a spontaneous manner, with rocket, prosciutto and parmesan. The salty cured taste of the wonderfully stretchy prosciutto, is helped by the shavings of parmesan to articulate how great antipasti ingredients can be. Though for more antipasti, they have a platter, which has been all the rave in Melbourne recently.
There are three sandwich-type offerings today – a focaccia with pickled artichokes, provolone and rocket, a panini with zucchini frittata, fetta, mint and rocket, and a porterhouse panini with horseradish mayonnaise, cheddar, caramelized onions and lettuce, which we chose. The porterhouse was thin, but would still be classified as a steak for its juiciness. The whole panini was spruced up by the great condiments, particularly the onions that were caramelized so well I thought those soft translucent strings were relish. We had been seriously prepared to ask them to warm it up for us, as we knew to do this by default in most cafés, but to our delight, it arrived crisp, tender, warm, and not too thick. The art of a good sandwich is revealed when the hungry customer raises it to a vertical and yet hardly anything falls out.
Gertrude Street Enoteca isn’t about fancy pansy food. It’s about having a relaxing time with good food, wine and company. I needn’t be reminded that I must be back soon for some late night drinks and antipasto, if I’m lucky enough to find a table, that is.
Average spending per person: $10-15 (excluding wine)
Gertrude Street Enoteca
229 Gertrude Street
Fitzroy 3065
Tel: +613 9415 8262
Open: Mon – Fri: 8.30am – late, Sat: 10am – late
Saturday, October 08, 2005
Good ol’ steak - A & V Lazar Charcoal Grill
The story begins with an accusation that I am on the way to becoming a vegetarian. So I like my vegetables, but no offence to those amongst us who have decided not to kill and ingest animal matter, but to me, the two must coexist. Hence I was led to begin a quest for the greatest vego-unfriendly place, and where better to begin than from steakhouses, where flesh and blood reign, and hopefully where a good glass of red wouldn't be far off.
I'd been past Lazar on the way to Brunswick Street plenty of times, though its drabby, graffiti-attacked red brick exterior never much inspired me to find out what was inside. Honestly, it wasn't until The Good Food Guide crowned it the Best Steakhouse for 2005 that I noticed its prominence in our dining landscape. Their price range looked substantially better than what would've been my first choice, Charcoal Grill on the Hill in Kew, and their BYO policy with no corkage was a huge incentive - it would guarantee us a good drop of red and keep our wallets safe from harm. (Charcoal Grill, on the other hand, is known to have a veritable tome of a wine list, with prices to match.)
The chance came to try it out when we were to celebrate a birthday amongst some meat-loving friends. Hardly costing any more than the TGI Friday suggestion, I practically leaped at the opportunity to book a table at Lazar, and a spot on leap it was.
The menu consists of not much more than (surprise, surprise!) beef. Mains are definitely the highlight here, so feel free to lay low on the entrees, though there’s a rich beef broth, beef cevapcici, as well as fiery pork sausages for those in need of a little departure from the red stuff. Then, to the lead acts: choose from rump, scotch fillet, porterhouse (sirloin), and eye fillet, all aged on the bone in a cool room on this very premises and chargrilled to your liking. The result is steak that is fibrous yet tender, and so juicy that you’d think they'd injected liquid into it. As I was chewing through the wonderfully crisp and flavoursome charred exterior, the rich juices filled my mouth like no steak had ever before. It was impossible to imagine that each small morsel could contain so many juices, especially after such intense grilling that lends the outside to become almost blackened.
The steak is cooked to perfection with almost scientific accuracy. A medium, for example, remains red inside, but juices no longer flow out of it. This is also helped by the resting of the meat, letting the fibres to relax after cooking, hence allowing maximal fluid retention.
The observant among us may realise that the places are not set with steak knives, and neither will they bring you any, not because they’re mean, but because you simply won’t need one. Their steaks almost magically divide into bitesized portions upon application of minimal effort with your ever so average looking knife. Note to competing steakhouses: buy high-quality grass-fed beef, age your steaks well, and you’ll save on buying expensive steak knives.
Unlike beef such as wagyu that relies on heavy marbling of fat for its suppleness, the tenderness of the steaks at Lazar is from the ageing and the sheer superiority of the produce. Using good ol’ Australian beef means that we are assured of the bold flavours and aromas of this delightful meat.
For the uncompromising vegetarian in me, I was relieved to find that all steaks are served with a simple and agreeable potato, lettuce and tomato salad.
The wine list has a reasonable range and labels, but we were slightly worried by the fact that no vintages are mentioned. While this is probably an indication that the same vintages are always offered, we weren’t too bothered as we’d brought along our own. However if you’re bringing an extra special bottle, the miniature stemware may disappoint.
Desserts were never meant to be a steakhouse’s forte, and Lazar doesn’t stray from the mainstream in this respect. Apart from scoops of ice cream, there are crepes with huge strawberries, ice cream and cream that can easily be shared between two, as well as simple lemon and sugar ones. Not quite as 'orgasmic' as suggested by the witty and conversational waiter, but nonetheless homely and satisfying in its predictability.
Nothing ever changes at Lazar – the bricks, the wooden panels and mirrors, the bow-tied waiters, the menu – it can hardly be called an ‘it’ place. But if it ain’t broke (and oh no, it ain’t!), why fix it?
A&V Lazar Charcoal Grill [edit: now sadly closed]
87 Johnston Street
Fitzroy 3065
Tel: 9419 2073
Open: Mon-Fri noon-3pm, Mon-Sat 6-10pm
I'd been past Lazar on the way to Brunswick Street plenty of times, though its drabby, graffiti-attacked red brick exterior never much inspired me to find out what was inside. Honestly, it wasn't until The Good Food Guide crowned it the Best Steakhouse for 2005 that I noticed its prominence in our dining landscape. Their price range looked substantially better than what would've been my first choice, Charcoal Grill on the Hill in Kew, and their BYO policy with no corkage was a huge incentive - it would guarantee us a good drop of red and keep our wallets safe from harm. (Charcoal Grill, on the other hand, is known to have a veritable tome of a wine list, with prices to match.)
The chance came to try it out when we were to celebrate a birthday amongst some meat-loving friends. Hardly costing any more than the TGI Friday suggestion, I practically leaped at the opportunity to book a table at Lazar, and a spot on leap it was.
The menu consists of not much more than (surprise, surprise!) beef. Mains are definitely the highlight here, so feel free to lay low on the entrees, though there’s a rich beef broth, beef cevapcici, as well as fiery pork sausages for those in need of a little departure from the red stuff. Then, to the lead acts: choose from rump, scotch fillet, porterhouse (sirloin), and eye fillet, all aged on the bone in a cool room on this very premises and chargrilled to your liking. The result is steak that is fibrous yet tender, and so juicy that you’d think they'd injected liquid into it. As I was chewing through the wonderfully crisp and flavoursome charred exterior, the rich juices filled my mouth like no steak had ever before. It was impossible to imagine that each small morsel could contain so many juices, especially after such intense grilling that lends the outside to become almost blackened.
The steak is cooked to perfection with almost scientific accuracy. A medium, for example, remains red inside, but juices no longer flow out of it. This is also helped by the resting of the meat, letting the fibres to relax after cooking, hence allowing maximal fluid retention.
The observant among us may realise that the places are not set with steak knives, and neither will they bring you any, not because they’re mean, but because you simply won’t need one. Their steaks almost magically divide into bitesized portions upon application of minimal effort with your ever so average looking knife. Note to competing steakhouses: buy high-quality grass-fed beef, age your steaks well, and you’ll save on buying expensive steak knives.
Unlike beef such as wagyu that relies on heavy marbling of fat for its suppleness, the tenderness of the steaks at Lazar is from the ageing and the sheer superiority of the produce. Using good ol’ Australian beef means that we are assured of the bold flavours and aromas of this delightful meat.
For the uncompromising vegetarian in me, I was relieved to find that all steaks are served with a simple and agreeable potato, lettuce and tomato salad.
The wine list has a reasonable range and labels, but we were slightly worried by the fact that no vintages are mentioned. While this is probably an indication that the same vintages are always offered, we weren’t too bothered as we’d brought along our own. However if you’re bringing an extra special bottle, the miniature stemware may disappoint.
Desserts were never meant to be a steakhouse’s forte, and Lazar doesn’t stray from the mainstream in this respect. Apart from scoops of ice cream, there are crepes with huge strawberries, ice cream and cream that can easily be shared between two, as well as simple lemon and sugar ones. Not quite as 'orgasmic' as suggested by the witty and conversational waiter, but nonetheless homely and satisfying in its predictability.
Nothing ever changes at Lazar – the bricks, the wooden panels and mirrors, the bow-tied waiters, the menu – it can hardly be called an ‘it’ place. But if it ain’t broke (and oh no, it ain’t!), why fix it?
A&V Lazar Charcoal Grill [edit: now sadly closed]
87 Johnston Street
Fitzroy 3065
Tel: 9419 2073
Open: Mon-Fri noon-3pm, Mon-Sat 6-10pm
Thursday, August 11, 2005
Worth marketing - Coffea
It would be hard to imagine anyone who finds doing household chores genuinely pleasurable, but if I had to choose one I’d rather do, my first choice by far would be food shopping, not the supermarket kind though, mind you. Limp veggies under fluorescent lights, factory salami, and apples that taste like cardboard have never really been my thing.
I always volunteer to do this chore, pretending that it’s just as painful as vacuuming, while snickering discreetly as I drive out to the Queen Victoria Market, which is my best bet for crisp green beans, fresh salad leaves, honey scented apples, as well as polish sausages, and an infinite variety of cheeses.
As if I need any more motivation to come here, there are places to stop by for a coffee and a lunch too, like the famous Bratwurst shop in the Deli section (hotdog-type rolls with the aforementioned German sausage; if you don’t know where it is, just look for the longest line in the Section), or the humble Coffea on the Elizabeth Street side of the market.
Given its market presence and its name, the fact that Coffea is a coffee merchant as well as a café should be of little surprise. Coffee fanatics will love the brewing accessories for sale on one side if the shop, unless they’d been momentarily transfixed by the commercial roaster at work right in the middle of the room. With equipment and a name like theirs, they would be terribly wrong to dare offer mediocre coffee – and luckily, they couldn’t be more on target. Perfect is not a word I use lightly, but the coffees here are just that. Not too strong yet superbly aromatic and never, I mean never, bitter.
Most mornings Coffea is bustling with CBD workers and perhaps early market-goers, who, either grabbing a takeaway pastry or enjoying a sit-down breakfast, are all here for a stellar coffee.
While sitting inside seemed the obvious choice for me in this weather, at lunchtime, hoards of hungry souls filled the many pavement seats, staying toasty under the outdoor heaters.
Lunch here is a ham and cheese affair. Well, except your “ham” could be prosciutto, pancetta or shaved leg ham, and your “cheese” could be parmesan or provolone – no plastic cheese here, thank you very much. Usually some salad greens like garden-fresh baby spinach or rocket are thrown in too, as well as relishes and sauces. A grilled vegetable ciabatta included artichokes, an interesting choice as a sandwich ingredient, as are salad-like combinations such as green beans and tuna. There are real salads too, as well as soup for those in need of a winter warmer.
My mushroom paté, prosciutto and parmesan ciabatta came toasted and on a warmed plate. Brownie points for attention to detail. The paté was more like a dense mushroom purée, its fragrance resonating in my mouth long after my final bite, rivaling the intensity of a madly expensive truffle purée I bought recently from a French farmer in London. The flavour of this truffle purée is tremendously rich, but hardly overpowering, satisfying one’s oral cavity like flowers blossoming all at once, filling a meadow on a spring morning. This mushroom paté is less exhilarating, but nevertheless an elating employment of this much more modest fungus.
The prosciutto and parmesan on their own are excellent ingredients. The prosciutto was moist and stretchy with that lovely cured flavour, while the parmesan was creamily rich and just pungent enough. The two together though, was less successful, becoming a bit too salty, even with the thick bread around it.
Non-coffee drinkers need not fret, as Coffea also offers a range of other beverages, such as chai, hot chocolate, and Italian bottled soft drinks.
You never know, with a visit to Coffea as a reward for doing chores, you might even see me polishing my roof soon.
Average spending: $5-15 pp.
Coffea
521 Elizabeth Street
Melbourne 3000
Tel: +613 9326 7388
Open: Mon 7.30am-3.30pm, Tue & Thu 7am-4pm, Fri 7am-5pm, Sat 7.30am-3pm, Sun 9am-4pm
Thursday, June 30, 2005
Alice in Tofuland - tofu shop international
I'd always had a belief that bad food can be made to taste good by adding more fat. Deep-fry a less-than-fresh piece of fish slapped in thick batter, and most people would happily munch away at it. Put enough butter and cream into your mashed potatoes and you¡¯d be called a master chef. But by no means am I suggesting that fats are nothing but evil ¨C quite the contrary. The famous Shanghainese "lion's head" meatball would be horribly tough and dry if only lean pork was used. It needs the moisture and lubricating qualities of evenly dispersed fat in the mince.
Or so I thought. My argument was quickly rebutted with a comment that the best ¡®lion¡¯s head¡¯ with the same (or even better) texture and flavour is made by mixing lean pork with tofu.
Most people are well-acquainted with these bricks of soybean derivatives, be they silky white or golden-skinned and earthily dense. They are now an essential part of vegetarian cuisine, of the east, west, and beyond, and culinary creativity with the humble ingredient has yet to see its limits. Some people swear by it, others loathe it, and I personally think that those in the latter category should be sent into mandatory tastebud training. If there was a qualified centre for this, it would undoubtedly be the Tofu Shop International on Bridge Road.
Here, soybeans are used for almost everything, from sweet slices to felafels, and even ¡®soyvlakis¡¯ (instant points for linguistic creativity). The soy felafel is brilliantly flavoursome and the addition of walnuts makes it all the more exciting as you crunch through the generous heap of salad inside the pita bread lined with all their sauces and condiments (tofu dip, peanut satay sauce, yogurt, chilli, Japanese pickled ginger). It looks deceptively tame as you sit at the stools in front of the glass counter watching the amiable staff assemble it before you, but it transforms into a bit of a roller-coaster ride in your mouth, with the vegetables and the nuts trying to outdo each other on the vertical crunch scale and the sauces and felafel making your tongue spin laterally, adding up to create a breathtaking ride.
The main offering at this cozy shop is, however, the array of dishes that one can pick and choose from to construct hearty lunches in bowls of three sizes ¨C small, medium and large. All are vegetarian and you can pick as many different dishes as you like ¨C staff will adjust proportions accordingly or as you request. We chose a medium bowl and tried four dishes. The curried parsnip with tofu was pleasantly spiced, and went well with the natural sweetness brought out of the parsnip. The coconut sauce penetrated well into the layers of the halved Brussels sprouts, and was an interesting and successful combination with the chunks sweet potato and cauliflower florets. The broccoli with vinegared lettuce and sliced mushrooms was superbly done, with all flavours and textures working in perfect harmony.
Everything was cooked to perfection ¨C the broccoli soft enough to be easily bitten into yet retaining its fresh green colour, the parsnip preserving a hint of tangy heat, the sweet potato, cauliflower and brussels sprouts all just right, despite differing requirements in cooking times, and the pumpkin roasted so tenderly that I forgot about removing the skin.
The bowls are offered with a small amount of rice, which does a good job of absorbing the lovely juices and sauces.
Sweet things forever catch my eye, and here, in the glass cabinet, they may be in the form of an innovative Chinese red date and coconut slice, or an impossibly stone-fruity peach and tofu slice. The tofu gives it a surprisingly smooth and creamy quality, but cleverly stays away from the overwhelming density that slices tend towards.
No matter where you sit, you will undoubtedly see some interesting merchandise for sale ¨C I saw a hangover cure behind the counter, as well as a good range of teas (including chai) on the shelves that line the walls on one side of the shop.
We've stuffed our faces with great food, yet we leave feeling refreshed and satisfied, detoxified, almost.
Big brand theme parks can be fun sometimes, but your trusty, local, down-to-earth amusements are often more delightful (on your hip pocket too).
Tofu Shop International
78 Bridge Rd
Richmond
Melbourne, Australia
+613 9429 6204
Or so I thought. My argument was quickly rebutted with a comment that the best ¡®lion¡¯s head¡¯ with the same (or even better) texture and flavour is made by mixing lean pork with tofu.
Most people are well-acquainted with these bricks of soybean derivatives, be they silky white or golden-skinned and earthily dense. They are now an essential part of vegetarian cuisine, of the east, west, and beyond, and culinary creativity with the humble ingredient has yet to see its limits. Some people swear by it, others loathe it, and I personally think that those in the latter category should be sent into mandatory tastebud training. If there was a qualified centre for this, it would undoubtedly be the Tofu Shop International on Bridge Road.
Here, soybeans are used for almost everything, from sweet slices to felafels, and even ¡®soyvlakis¡¯ (instant points for linguistic creativity). The soy felafel is brilliantly flavoursome and the addition of walnuts makes it all the more exciting as you crunch through the generous heap of salad inside the pita bread lined with all their sauces and condiments (tofu dip, peanut satay sauce, yogurt, chilli, Japanese pickled ginger). It looks deceptively tame as you sit at the stools in front of the glass counter watching the amiable staff assemble it before you, but it transforms into a bit of a roller-coaster ride in your mouth, with the vegetables and the nuts trying to outdo each other on the vertical crunch scale and the sauces and felafel making your tongue spin laterally, adding up to create a breathtaking ride.
The main offering at this cozy shop is, however, the array of dishes that one can pick and choose from to construct hearty lunches in bowls of three sizes ¨C small, medium and large. All are vegetarian and you can pick as many different dishes as you like ¨C staff will adjust proportions accordingly or as you request. We chose a medium bowl and tried four dishes. The curried parsnip with tofu was pleasantly spiced, and went well with the natural sweetness brought out of the parsnip. The coconut sauce penetrated well into the layers of the halved Brussels sprouts, and was an interesting and successful combination with the chunks sweet potato and cauliflower florets. The broccoli with vinegared lettuce and sliced mushrooms was superbly done, with all flavours and textures working in perfect harmony.
Everything was cooked to perfection ¨C the broccoli soft enough to be easily bitten into yet retaining its fresh green colour, the parsnip preserving a hint of tangy heat, the sweet potato, cauliflower and brussels sprouts all just right, despite differing requirements in cooking times, and the pumpkin roasted so tenderly that I forgot about removing the skin.
The bowls are offered with a small amount of rice, which does a good job of absorbing the lovely juices and sauces.
Sweet things forever catch my eye, and here, in the glass cabinet, they may be in the form of an innovative Chinese red date and coconut slice, or an impossibly stone-fruity peach and tofu slice. The tofu gives it a surprisingly smooth and creamy quality, but cleverly stays away from the overwhelming density that slices tend towards.
No matter where you sit, you will undoubtedly see some interesting merchandise for sale ¨C I saw a hangover cure behind the counter, as well as a good range of teas (including chai) on the shelves that line the walls on one side of the shop.
We've stuffed our faces with great food, yet we leave feeling refreshed and satisfied, detoxified, almost.
Big brand theme parks can be fun sometimes, but your trusty, local, down-to-earth amusements are often more delightful (on your hip pocket too).
Tofu Shop International
78 Bridge Rd
Richmond
Melbourne, Australia
+613 9429 6204
Wednesday, May 18, 2005
The Mammas and the Papas - Pellegrini's Espresso Bar
[edit - 20 June 2011]: sometimes I wonder why I wrote sh*t like this. Pellegrini's coffee is horrible, and the pasta, well, it's "nostalgic" yes, like macaroni in soup in Hong Kong is - it's not exactly the pinnacle of pasta dishes... Anyway, that's what a blog is for isn't it, so you can reminisce and cringe.
Mother's day has come and gone, and as with the past four or five years, I've spent it without the day's protagonist, my mother. It's at times like these that I miss her most, her cooking in particular (a skill she now rarely displays as she has long since transferred it to our maid in Hong Kong, but that's another story), with that snuggly warmth that even the best restaurants could not reproduce.
Luckily, I've found an adoptive mother in Melbourne. She's Italian and she makes me hearty meals whenever I pay her a visit in her little corner bar at the top of Bourke Street in the City.
For all I know, my "mamma" at Pellegrini's could be a twenty-five year-old male chef working in the kitchen out the back, but when the plates of pasta are dished out, I can't help but imagine that they are the creations of a middle-aged lady in a paisley apron who sings sweetly as she stirs the garden-fresh napolitana sauce into my perfectly al dente penne.
The dish looks, smells, and tastes wholesome, thanks to the finely chopped celery, julienned carrots and melting globules of tomato that act as the base of this clean, minestrone-like sauce. It¡¯s not cloying in the least, and strikes just the right balance of acid and salt with the fresh sweetness of the vegetables. Simple yet satisfying.
The dish is plenty for one, and could probably be shared between two if you weren't too hungry, and a lot of the time I intend to do so. But for some bizarre reason, as soon as the Papa-esque gentleman serves me my plate with a "Grazie, Bella", my arms wrap around the warm plate like a fortress on the wooden bar table as I hiss "Mine! Mine!" like a five year-old.
The same happens when I order the risotto primavera, a non-creamy rendition of this rice dish that uses long grain rice. Again, it is moistened by a light, tomato-based broth dotted with peas, carrots and other vegetables. It is yet another formidable dish.
The use of cream is negligible in these dishes, if any was used at all. Its addition would only have undermined the natural balance of flavours in the sauces.
The menu of mains is brief, and all the available dishes are listed on one side of the wooden noticeboard stretching across the middle of the narrow seating space. It will have several pasta basics such as lasagna, gnocchi, ravioli and spaghetti bolognaise along with other interesting dishes such as mozzarella bolognaise, which by my translation, seemed to mean just cheese and sauce. As it turns out, it is actually a thick slice of bread smothered in a rich bolognaise sauce, something that even the pickiest of my dining companions was pleased with.
If you were generous enough to share your main meal, you may have space left for some tiramisu or other sweets beckoning to be devoured, on display at the lower end of the bar. If not, one of Melbourne's best coffees, or their super-sour lemon granita, awaits.
The dining space essentially consists of two lines of bar stools, as well as a communal dining table at the back. Despite the extremely narrow space, the bar stools are surprising comfortable and I personally have spent many an afternoon (and evening) sitting facing the mirrored wall, chit-chatting away while relishing a delightful pasta, with intermittent strikes of fear that Mamma will come out to tell me off for speaking with my mouth full.
Instead, after I recite my meal (so they can work out my bill), the waiter behind the bar makes me blush and giggle as they give me my change, along with a wink and a mischievous "Ciao Bella!"
Though I have no childhood memories of growing up in an Italian village, Pellegrini's food is nostalgic. And at their friendly prices, you can feel free to visit Mamma whenever you need a bit of homely warmth.
Pellegrini's Espresso Bar
66 Bourke Street
Melbourne 3000
Tel: 9662 1885
Open: Mon-Sat 8am-11.30pm; Sun noon-8pm
Mother's day has come and gone, and as with the past four or five years, I've spent it without the day's protagonist, my mother. It's at times like these that I miss her most, her cooking in particular (a skill she now rarely displays as she has long since transferred it to our maid in Hong Kong, but that's another story), with that snuggly warmth that even the best restaurants could not reproduce.
Luckily, I've found an adoptive mother in Melbourne. She's Italian and she makes me hearty meals whenever I pay her a visit in her little corner bar at the top of Bourke Street in the City.
For all I know, my "mamma" at Pellegrini's could be a twenty-five year-old male chef working in the kitchen out the back, but when the plates of pasta are dished out, I can't help but imagine that they are the creations of a middle-aged lady in a paisley apron who sings sweetly as she stirs the garden-fresh napolitana sauce into my perfectly al dente penne.
The dish looks, smells, and tastes wholesome, thanks to the finely chopped celery, julienned carrots and melting globules of tomato that act as the base of this clean, minestrone-like sauce. It¡¯s not cloying in the least, and strikes just the right balance of acid and salt with the fresh sweetness of the vegetables. Simple yet satisfying.
The dish is plenty for one, and could probably be shared between two if you weren't too hungry, and a lot of the time I intend to do so. But for some bizarre reason, as soon as the Papa-esque gentleman serves me my plate with a "Grazie, Bella", my arms wrap around the warm plate like a fortress on the wooden bar table as I hiss "Mine! Mine!" like a five year-old.
The same happens when I order the risotto primavera, a non-creamy rendition of this rice dish that uses long grain rice. Again, it is moistened by a light, tomato-based broth dotted with peas, carrots and other vegetables. It is yet another formidable dish.
The use of cream is negligible in these dishes, if any was used at all. Its addition would only have undermined the natural balance of flavours in the sauces.
The menu of mains is brief, and all the available dishes are listed on one side of the wooden noticeboard stretching across the middle of the narrow seating space. It will have several pasta basics such as lasagna, gnocchi, ravioli and spaghetti bolognaise along with other interesting dishes such as mozzarella bolognaise, which by my translation, seemed to mean just cheese and sauce. As it turns out, it is actually a thick slice of bread smothered in a rich bolognaise sauce, something that even the pickiest of my dining companions was pleased with.
If you were generous enough to share your main meal, you may have space left for some tiramisu or other sweets beckoning to be devoured, on display at the lower end of the bar. If not, one of Melbourne's best coffees, or their super-sour lemon granita, awaits.
The dining space essentially consists of two lines of bar stools, as well as a communal dining table at the back. Despite the extremely narrow space, the bar stools are surprising comfortable and I personally have spent many an afternoon (and evening) sitting facing the mirrored wall, chit-chatting away while relishing a delightful pasta, with intermittent strikes of fear that Mamma will come out to tell me off for speaking with my mouth full.
Instead, after I recite my meal (so they can work out my bill), the waiter behind the bar makes me blush and giggle as they give me my change, along with a wink and a mischievous "Ciao Bella!"
Though I have no childhood memories of growing up in an Italian village, Pellegrini's food is nostalgic. And at their friendly prices, you can feel free to visit Mamma whenever you need a bit of homely warmth.
Pellegrini's Espresso Bar
66 Bourke Street
Melbourne 3000
Tel: 9662 1885
Open: Mon-Sat 8am-11.30pm; Sun noon-8pm
Sunday, May 01, 2005
Pearl of a bar - The Bar at Pearl, Richmond
A lot of the time we try to avoid nice restaurants because they just seem too expensive, but with the bar option at restaurants like Pearl on Church Street, you can have a Glam Night Out without getting a Big Cash Out.
From its inception, Pearl has always been on the top of many foodies' lists. Chef Geoff Lindsay is known for his adventurous Asian-inspired food that has led Pearl to win numerous awards. However, the familiar fine-dining price range at the restaurant probably means that visits there should be left for special occasions. The bar, on the other hand, is much more budget-friendly, and gives a sneak peek of the restaurant offerings as well as serving some more classic dishes. The bar is no longer just for drinks. What about those soggy chips and overdue nuts? No can do!
We visited at lunchtime, initially hoping to catch some of their much-raved-about weekend brunch, but having been spoilt by the all-day breakfast cafes around town, we forgot that at 12.30, people should really be having lunch. The friendly waiters smiled forgivingly at our ignorance and handed us lunch menus and the wine list. Wines by the glass are listed on the first page, followed by many pages of wines by the bottle categorized by type and style. I decide it's too early for alcohol and my companion was really my chauffeur so we give the wines a miss.
The lunch menu is a much briefer document, with "little", "bigger" and "sweet" dishes on the one page. "little" dishes such as prosciutto with grissini and olives, lamb and fennel seed sausages, and lettuce cups with rare beef salad are perfect as nibbles to share. We choose the flat chips with dips and the fried eggplant with ponzu sauce. The "flat chips" turn out to be impossibly thin homemade potato chips served with a flavour-packed tomato relish and a creamy, mayonnaise-like sauce.
Scooping up the chunky relish with a chip is as close to impossible as for me to stop eating chocolate, due to their airy thinness, so restrict all dipping action to the other sauce or you抣l find yourself with unsightly chip crumbs planted between tomato segments. Pretend to be posh and use your knife (hint: you can load more onto each chip that way too). The fried eggplant is stuffed with finely diced Chinese cabbage (wombok) and shitake mushrooms and enveloped in a golden caramel tinted, crisp, wispy, voluminous batter, much like the type used for fried taro dumplings at yum cha. Definitely a very welcome departure from over-interpreted tempura batter. The filling is moist but not too wet, with clean, fresh flavours. The vinegar and soy based ponzu sauce was well-balanced and made a good partner for the dish. A solid combination.
The fried egg with cucumber salad from the "bigger" section was another Asian-inspired dish bursting with freshness. The nut relish in the cucumber salad is reminiscent of nuoc cham with a sprinkling of peanuts in Vietnamese cuisine. The egg is fried to a dramatic shape such that it stands atypically tall on the plate, and is loaded with parsley and threads of chilli and finished off with a sort of soy vinaigrette. We guessed that this was done in the deep-fryer, allowing the white to become browned whilst keeping the yolk addictively runny. Again, an interesting blend of flavours. If only there was some carb to mop all the liquids up!
Desserts in the bar menu consist of small items such as lamingtons, Persian fairy floss and Turkish delights, but diners are also welcome to order more elaborate creations from the restaurant's dessert menu.
Asian diners may find that Pearl's menu shows creative use of seemingly everyday ingredients and techniques, therefore probably only the more adventurous amongst us would be inspired to visit the restaurant. Nonetheless, the bar would be a good place to get a feel for the food, or just for grabbing a good-value meal in a casual and groovy designer setting.
Pearl Restaurant & Bar
631-633 Church Street
Richmond 3121
Tel: 9421 4599 (Bookings not required at the bar)
Open: (bar) 11am-late, 7 days
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