RESTAURANTS: St Ali / Flora / Naked For Satan / Le Petit Gateau / Koko Black / Wonton House / Der Raum / Siglo [Melbourne]

Don't blink. This was one day. When I go, I go hard.

For such a long day, it's important to get an early start. So at the crack of dawn (around 9/930) we woke up and got ready to head to South Melbourne for one of the best regarded cafes/coffee practitioners around: St Ali.

It's hit. Far too hip. Like every single inch of air has been designed for you to glance it and go "huh, that's cool!"

Thankfully, the coffee is exceptional. In addition to making a great version of your normal coffees they do the oh so fancy cold press and syphon methods. It was my first experience with both and I was blown away, particularly with the syphon coffee which produced an outstanding cup.

The food was a great backup for the coffee, with the dutch oven a bowl full of delicious goodness like beans, feta, poached egg and sourdough.

It was all really great, but I still think it's stupid to line up for a cafe in the morning, when I usually need a coffee and dose of relaxation before I die. And I get the idea that this place PACKS.OUT.

Still, brilliant coffee.

RATING: Will return to [?]




We left breakfast a bit late so had to head to lunch to meet a friend without any break. The idea was the check out the popular North East China Family, but it proved too popular, so Flora Indian Restaurant was the new location.

There was one thing I was here for: paper dosa. Those HUGE pastry/pancake sorta thingys that come with some curry and other goods. And they had it.

It was all solid, but not spectacular. Decent flavours in the curry but a bit bland. Still, a good, cheap option and paper dosas (!!!!!).

RATING: Okay, may go back [?]




Infused vodkas, 80c bar snacks, good booze list. I don't need more than that to get me going.

And going we did. To Fitzroy (clumsy turn of phrase).

Something weird happened. At the start I really liked it because I like all of those things I mentioned. But then I noticed what cheap pintxos does to people. It attracts families (what?), parents with their babies, people killing time. It feels wrong that a place trying so hard to please people is... attracting the wrong clientele?

I don't know. Part of the place says I should be doing serious eating and drinking. But the other half tells me that this is a halfway house for people with nothing better to do (or eat).

But they need to be praised/attended for bringing a great booze list and cheap bar snacks which finally show overpriced tapas places how it should be done.

RATING: Will return to [?]




After a couple of infused vodkas and savoury pintxos I was craving some sweetness. Where else but Le Petit Gateaux, a place with some very solid sweets. And probably a guy buying too many of said sweets.

The coffee and chocolate tart is ridiculously smooth and balanced. The napolitana is a bit dull, but that's only because it's compared with some of the other great options. Well worth checking out.




I was also obliged to go to Koko Black and get some sweet, sweet candy for my family, who are fairly addicted to the excellent chocolates coming out of this store.

Good selection of flavours and superbly smooth chocolate. Winning combination. I ate a box and felt sick.




Dinner time (already?) and we were hoping to check out Crazy Wings, but that was full. So we walked for a bit and stumbled into Wonton House because... well... I guess because wontons are nice.

But this place was average.

Congee was nice but a little plain. Dumplings were okay but overfilled. The mapo tofu appeared to have sweet chilli sauce in it and was the main misstep of the night. Fried wontons were okay. Xiao long bao were good.

It hit the spot, but nothing else.

RATING: Will probably not return to [?]




Off to Richmond where I was pretty excited to finally be heading to what has been lauded as one of the best cocktail bars in the country. Would it live up to the hype?

You have NO FUCKING IDEA HOW MUCH IT LIVED UP TO THE HYPE.

Best cocktails I have had anywhere in the world, without question. Tremendous flavours, amazing bartending skill, electric-blanket-warm service, unrivalled presentation skills.

Der Raum had it all. We stayed for around 3 hours and drank every cocktail on their list (as well as a couple others) and I kept wanting more.

I can't even begin to describe how great the cocktails were. One that looked and smelled like a dark beer but tasted incredible? Yes. One served in a wine bottle and wine glass that had the characteristics of red wine? Definitely.

Every single thing was excellent. I will come here every single time I come to Melbourne.




But the night wasn't over.

We decided to head the Melbourne's late-night institution, Siglo, for some late-night, roof-top cognac and cigars.

I dislike Siglo because it's always busy and it can get expensive, but I love Siglo because you can get some brilliant stuff on their booze list and it has a pretty good vibe.

I just want the whole place to myself.




It was a long day.

RESTAURANTS: Mamasita / MoMo / Cookie [Melbourne]

Is it wrong (or weird) to plan a trip around meals? Sure as fuck hope not. What started as a long weekend trip turned into a 5-day feast, with arrival and departure times set around meals.

We dropped our bags at the hotel and headed to the eastern end of Collins St, stomachs growling a few steps back. I'd heard Mamasita did alright with it's modern/fresh Mexican food. It would be a refreshing break from the stodgy fecal matter that most Mexican restaurants in Sydney serve.

I'd timed it so we would arrive after the lunch rush and would have the place to ourself. And so it was. We walked up the stairs and faced a rapidly emptying restaurant and put an order in for everything that looked good. Tosatads are things on toasts, essentially. Pulled pork is good, crab is brilliant with it's zingy, punchy flavours that somehow don't overshadow the crab. Tacos (soft shell) are also good with the pulled pork and blacks bean options totally killing it. Ceviche is solid. Quesadilla with corn fungus is also good. Sangria hits the spot but is lacking a little punch (no pun intended).

Service is efficient and friendly, but that could be because of the time we arrived. Prices reasonable.

After a lifetime of terrible Mexican restaurant food, Mamasita is a breath of fresh air. The flavours are fresh and zingy. Execution was ever so slightly off in some places, but on the whole it's a very solid dining experience.

RATING: Will return to [?]





The first dinner was also to be the best. Well, we hoped. Only one deg was booked for the trip and the honours went to MoMo for reasons that had little to do with food AND THEY'RE MY PERSONAL PRIVATE REASONS.

After finding the mythical elevator we head up and find a pretty stunning restaurant. It's like being surrounded by carpet. All around you. Hugging you.

We go for the moorish tasting menu which I think translates as "don't eat lunch 2 hours before coming here or you will die from overeating" (literal) and involves every course in the universe.

Warm salad of roasted Barra with a salad of fennel, tarragon and buffalo feta is a killer dish. Sweet, juicy fish paired with the subtle flavours of everything else I just mentioned. The buffalo feta is amazing: sweet, salty, subtle, creamy all in one.

The beef tartare, with brick pastry and some creamy stuffy exploding out of it is delicious with the garlic Turkish bread.

Turkish fish doctors stew? Forget about it. A brilliant plate of perfectly cooked and flavoured seafood. The pork rib eye with spinach gozleme and freekeh is decent enough but with slightly tough pork and slightly dull flavours is the dish that falls short on the night, despite the delicious potatoes with pine nuts on the side.

Dessert is ridiculous. One of the best fondants, passionfruit tarts and mini-trifles I've ever had. Perfection. It sounded rich and it was. Until the fruit and sorbet with dried grapefruit was tasted and calmed everything. Stunning end to the meal.

Service was good, wine matching was good. Baring the pork course, the 14 plates were brilliant. Not life-changing, but brilliant flavours, served well. And generously.


RATING: Will return to [?]




Drinks were also had at Cookie. Extremely busy bar/restaurant and for good reason. Spectacular beverage list for whatever your poison is. I only wish that I was the only person there so I could enjoy it without the crowds.

RESTAURANT: Crazy Wings (Chinatown)

Things taste better when they’re skewered and grilled. It’s a fact. And it applies to everything, not just meat. I once had a grilled fur coat and it was way tastier than a fur coat cooked any other way.

So expectations were high for Crazy Wings, where the philosophy is to get something, cover it in the same spice mixture used for xin jiang lamb skewers (chilli, ginger, garlic, cumin, etc) and grill it over coals. That “something” comes from all of the major food groups; lamb, chicken, beef, quail, mushroom, fish.

Gimmicks of everything being prefaced with “crazy” (like everything at McDonalds being “Mc”) aside, it’s top food. The xin jiang lamb skewers are cooked perfectly, with the fat melting in the mouth. And that’s basically the story for everything else we tried. The chicken fillet was succulent, the chicken hearts tender. The only way to describe the grilled vegetable skewers is “addictive” (parents, this is how to get kids to eat vege).

While very enjoyable, the skewers aren’t perfect, with the spice mix feeling slightly out of harmony on some of the choices. Thankfully it doesn’t detract too much from the overall enjoyment.

Service is fine, although it was a bit weird seeing a waitress with huge cuts all up her arm. That said, seeing that much exposed flesh sure puts you in the mood for meat. Prices are decent considering how much meat you’re eating.

The only downside is that it’s pretty much all skewers. We had dozens of skewers piled high and still felt like there was room left. The rice sides on the menu didn’t overly appeal, so we lacked some filling carbs--something that needs to be fixed when we next return. Considering how good the skewers were, that will be fairly soon.


RATING: Will return to [?]

RECIPE: Cured Fish

Bad pun: This cured fish is so ill! HAHAHHAHAHHAHAHHAHA (repeat x 1,000,000)(ed: no fucking way am I going to do that)



I used flathead. It tasted good. I also tried with another fish (gemfish?) and it wasn't as good. Salmon would go well. I think perch would too.

I covered approx 300g of flathead fillets with the juice of an orange, the zest of an orange, the juice of a lemon, the zest of a lemon, a tablespoon of capers, a few sprigs of thyme, a handful of roughly chopped dill, a bit of black pepper, a shot of gin (o hai Hendrick's) and a handful of salt. I made sure the whole fish was covered, wrapped it up VERY well, put it on a plate and left it fridgeally for 3 days.

After 3 days the outside of the fish was white. It looked "cooked". I sliced it thinly and put it on a plate. I gave that a very good drizzle of olive oil, the juice of half a lemon, a pinch of salt, a little pepper and a little bit of fresh thyme.

Eaten with slightly warm bread it was amazing.

RECIPE: How To Get Perfect Roast Vegetables

A lot of the recipes that I put on this site require a bit of prerequisite knowledge and extrapolation. When you start cooking, one of the hardest things to overcome is vagueness, so I want to try and put some of the simpler recipes that I know up here. Firstly for my memory, and secondly so I don't scare of people that are just learning to cook.

Roasting vegetables was one of the first things that I learned to cook well. And while many of the things that I first learned well and then improved on as my skills grew, my technique for roasting vegetables has remained pretty much unchanged.


Before starting to roast vegetables you need to prepare them. The prep will be the same regardless of what method you decide to use.

For sweet potatoes, should peel away all of the skin.
For potatoes, cut out any bad looking bits.
For carrots, it's your call. I usually peel them if the carrots look "rough" but just wash them if not.
For pumpkin, I generally take the skin off, but it isn't necessary.
For parsnip, I recommend peeling.
For garlic, I prefer to take the skin off and just keep the clove/edible bits.
For tomatoes, onions, green beans, just wash and leave untouched.
For beetroot, I prefer to peel.

If the vege is large it will take longer to cook. Consider cutting it in halves or quarters if you want to reduce cooking time. If you are cooking multiple vegetables at once, try and keep everything roughly the same size (no need to be pedantic).

And always wash after cutting.


Okay, there are two ways to get perfectly roasted vegetables. Each way has it's pros and cons.

Firstly:


The Par-Boil Then Roast Method

Note: par-boiling refers to when you boil something to the point of being cooked or almost cooked as the first step in the cooking process.

This method is best used for the heavier root vege like potato, carrot, sweet potato, pumpkin, parsnip and beetroot. It's unsuitable for soft vegetables like tomato, green beans and onion because they don't need to be softened before roasting. While you may feel that garlic isn't suitable, a quick par-boil beforehand will mellow the flavour so you'll get a more mellow end product.

The big pro of this method is that the vegetables will be incredibly crisp on the outside and creamy on the inside. It's also a little more foolproof because you do all of the cooking during the first stage, so undercooked vege easily avoidable, as well as the potential to overcook (and dry out) that is there in the other method. It's also the faster of the two methods.

The cons are that you'll be faced with more washing up from this method (a large pot and a colander) and there are a couple more steps (albeit easy steps). Also, I'm not a nutritionist but I'm pretty sure that when you par-boil vege before roasting that you're boiling away the vitamins and minerals in the vege.

1. Put all of your vege into a pot large enough to hold them. Cover with cold water and add a tablespoon or so of salt.

2. Bring it to the boil and cook until the vegetables are cooked. Best way to test this is to get a butter knife and poke it into the middle of a large or thick piece.

3. Turn your oven to around 220c. Put your roasting pan inside.

4. Once the vegetable feels soft and doesn't resist the knife, drain it in a colander. Give it a good shake to get rid of the water and "rough up" the vegetables a bit. The less perfect the vege, the crunchier they'll get.

5. Take your roasting pan out of the oven, cover with some baking paper and put the vege on. Drizzle everything with a neutral oil (tasteless) like grapeseed oil, salt and pepper. You can also add herbs like thyme, rosemary and oregano. Spices like cumin, paprika and sumac also go well. If you're using any vege that wasn't par-boiled (tomato, onion, etc) then add it now.

6. Give everything a mix so all of the vege is coated in the oil/herbs/spices.

7. Put it in the oven and cook until golden brown. It will take around an hour, but check every 25 minutes or so and give the pan a good shake/mix so all sides of the vege is roasted.

The end result will be crunchy and fluffy.


The second method is...

The Straight Roast

I find myself using this method most of the time, simply because it's less effort and there is less to clean up at the end.

It works pretty much for all vegetables, but if you're using a mix of vegetables that need more cooking (ie potato and pumpkin) and vege that just needs some browning (tomato, onion, garlic) then you need to consider adding it in stages.

So the big pro is that there is less effort involved and less cleaning at the end. Also, because you aren't boiling away any nutrients, I think this option is healthier. I find that this method will give you a creamy inside to the vege, whereas the first method gives you a fluffy inside.

The con is that the results aren't quite as good as the first method. If you overcook the vegetables here then they can dry out. Also, if you undercook the vege then it will be hard and inedible.

1. Get your oven tray and cover with baking paper. Put your vege. As I mentioned above, if you are cooking a mix of things that will take a long time and a short time, then add the quick vege later on.

2. Cover with grapeseed oil or a similar tasteless oil (sunflower), salt, pepper and similar spices and herbs as I mentioned in point #5 above. Mix so everything is coated. Put into a 170c oven.

3. The denser vege like potatoes, pumpkin, etc will take around 2 hours to cook, but it depends on your oven. I recommend checking after an hour and then around every 25 mins after that. Each time you check, mix the vege around so every side is perfectly roasted. Vege like tomatoes will only take around 30 mins. But get to know your oven and cook by feel and you'll be fine.

4. The end result will be a dark golden colour. But it's essential that you try a larger piece of the vege to ensure that it is creamy in the middle.



And there you go. Two ways to roast vege with two different outcomes. Hopefully two easy to follow recipes that will let you master roasted vege if you haven't already.


I want this post to be as easy to follow as possible. So if you believe that it isn't, let me know in the comments what parts need more detail.

Also, if you want advise on any other vegetables that I haven't mentioned, let me know.

BEER: Beers of the Week

3rd Place - Feral Brewing Co "Fanta Pants" Red Ale

The Local Taphouse (of Darlinghurst and St Kilda fame) is normally one of the best places to go for a drink. A comfortable place, friendly staff, good food and, most importantly, a spectacular selection of beers, both on tap and in the fridge. Every now and again, though, they do something a little special. Read: their SpecTAPulars, where they invite 20 different brewers to provide something interesting for the day. And now they've come up with the tap takeover. First up is Feral Brewing from the Swan Valley in WA, who have answered the call and provided 20 different beers to fill up the taps at the Taphouse.

While not many of the beers blew me away, there was one that impressed to no end, "Fanta Pants". Dark mahogany red with a bitter, malty nose. It sips beautifully. It benefits greatly from being tapped on the day because the freshness gives it a real spark. Add to that the huge, bitter, hoppy beginning and the perfect amount of sweetness through the middle and on the end, and you have a great beer.

89%


2nd Place - Russian River "Pliny the Elder" DIPA (Double/Imperial Pale Ale)

So my favourite bottle shop, Platinum Liquor has gotten in a MASSIVE shipment of beer from America's West Coast. And to the victor come the spoils. A beer that sits second on the Beer Advocate list and (when I checked) eighteenth on the Rate Beer list. You know this is going to be serious.

I might not be an IPA fanboy like the rest of the world, but as soon as I give this a sniff I know I'm going to like it. Caramelised orange is how I'd best describe it. With a bit of vanilla thrown in. And that's exactly how it tastes. But with something different added in. I can't put my finger on it, but it's awesome. It's like the beer equivalent of MSG that I'm tasting.

While I get the feeling that this is a bit overrated (it's not the second best beer in the world, sorry), it is still excellent.

94%


1st Place - Green Flash Double Stout

I first tasted this beer in a smallish pub in New York called Pony Bar. For the two weeks I spent in New York, I finished nearly every night in the place. Why? Hands down, no doubt about it, unquestionably, the best selection of beer I'd ever seen, having never really gotten involved in the craft beer "scene". They had around a dozen taps and as soon as a beer ran out they'd add a new one. Of all the beers I tried at this place, this was the second. And it was the best.

I love my stouts, but, fuck me, this is exceptionally drinkable. The bottle advertises "big, bold and complex" and that is the perfect way to describe this beer. Totally malt driven and, at 8.8% abv, it's as strong as it is sessionable. But there's a complexity to it that I find totally addictive.

Apparently the boys at Platinum only got in 4 x 4 packs of this beer. I have bad news for you. I'm going to buy every single one. It's exceptional. It's the best sessionable stout I've ever tasted.

95%

RESTAURANT: Tetsuya's

I remember Tetsuya's two or three years ago. You would utter the word and everyone knew what you were talking about. You weren't talking about a mere restaurant: you were talking about a Sydney institution. An institution that stood for luxury; for excellence; for refinement; for the ultimate in Sydney--nay Australian--nay Australasian--fine dining. And it had been like that for years.

Put simply, Tetsuya's put Sydney (and Australian) food on the map. Sure, there were heaps of other great chefs and restaurants that helped champion the cause. But everyone knew Tetsuya's. It was the pinnacle.

The moment I started thinking about doing any "fine dining", Tetsuya's entered my thoughts. It was number one on the wishlist. I barely even bothered about wishlists, but Tetsuya's was the top spot. At times the wishlist existed solely because I couldn't get Tetsuya's out of my head. But it wasn't that easy to get it out of my head.

Well, that's a lie. The simple way of exorcising the thought was the dine at Tetsuya's. But it was never that easy. The tremendous waits for tables were known by everyone. I tried once, offering to take the next free booking, but was told the next free booking was in eight months time. For a midweek dinner. That wouldn't do. No one--I don't care who it is--can make me book eight fucking months in advance. For anything.

So I went elsewhere. I suffered almost no waits going to places like Quay, Marque, Bentley, Flying Fish, Galileo at it's peak, Omega before it shut, Becasse, Sepia, .est, Rockpool Bar & Grill, Oscillate Wildly. I went to New York and ate at the best restaurants I could; restaurants regarded as the best in the world. I went to Melbourne and did the same. Then across Europe and went... a tad overkill.

Still. I could never shake Tets.

Along the way, though, Tetsuya's has been going on it's own journey. From the unrivalled top of the Australian dining scene, Tetsuya's is now in question. Peter Gilmore's Quay has emerged as the new Australasian favourite. Competitors that were never in competition before are now being mentioned before Tets. Right or wrong, meaningful or not, it lost a hat in the Good Food Guide, arguably the most influential restaurant guide in the state. The same guide where, three years earlier, it was restaurant of the year. Alongside that, the general public had increased it's awareness of food, had begun growing increasingly more savvy and, with that, demanding. The times. They are. A changing.

The rumours were that waits for midweek tables were down to just a couple of weeks. I rang on a Wednesday and was giving a Tuesday booking. Forget about a six month wait. Six days. Only six days. Sweet dreams are made of some sort of weird brain chemical and also this.

I went through those gates--those gates that I'd walked past dozens of times, hoping to catch a glimpse of anything that would give away what it was like inside--with no expectations. My previously high expectations had been balanced to nothingness by the general ambivalence that people seemed to be feeling for the restaurant these days. In short, I went through expecting nothing. I was a clean slate.

You're assaulted with service. Straight away. It's deafening. That's the only way to describe it. Except, perhaps, shock and awe. Staff are everywhere, doing everything. Opening doors (a two man job, apparently), parking cars, watching people parking cars, taking names, watching the process of taking names. The Experience is what they call it.

They run you through the menu and I suppose it's okay. I feel a bit stifled. Oddly, it feels out of place. Because the restaurant itself feels a little dated. It doesn't feel like a restaurant in 2011. Or maybe because it seems like it actually would hurt them to crack a joke. I think it would hurt me too.

We start with a cucumber soup with yoghurt and (I think) sea cucumber. It's great. Fresh. Lively. A great start. The oysters, dressed in vinegar and ginger, are too, if a little overdressed. Yellowfin tuna sashimi with shishito and garlic chips next and it tastes great, although you need to get your ratios right because the charred shishito tries to overpower every bite.

Scampi with bean curd and junsai is a cracker of a dish. Different textures of "wobble", different subtle flavours. Paired with a fruity, slightly acidic riesling, the whole dish is totally spot on. It's a wow moment. Yeah, one o' dem.

The signature dish is up next. Confit ocean trout, nowadays a fixture on hundreds of menus across Australia. It's paired here with apple, konbu and celery. But mostly with apple. The matchsticks of apple that sit under the fish do compliment the dish in terms of flavour, but said matchsticks don't seem to compliment the texture of the dish. I put a chunk of beautifully cooked and seasoned trout in my mouth and find myself constantly chewing through sticks of apple after the trout has been procssed.

On the side is a green leaf salad that I have to say is a little overdressed. The pool of dressing left in the bowl with attest to that. It's also a side that would be suited to one of the red meat dishes further down the menu. The strong dressing and slightly bitter leaves of the salad totally destroys the subtle flavour of the ocean trout, which was already swimming upstream to escape the wrath of the apple julienne.

Cod with blackbean and bacon passes without too much fanfare--the cod is either an odd texture or slightly over. But then the shredded, braised oxtail with lotus root and sea cucumber arrives and the fanfare returns. The sea cucumber here plays a textural role similar to the fat of the meat. But it's the bit of bite in the lotus root that pushes this dish along. Solid.

Then the roasted breast of quail wrapped in, I think, pancetta with pine mushrooms and what is apparently lardo (according to the take home menu). Paired with a pinot noir made for Tetsuya's by Bass Phillip, one of my favourite pinot noir makers, the dish is spectacular. The quail is juicy, flavoursome and perfect. With the delicious pine mushrooms and lardo (or whatever else it is) it has the perfect balance. I mention to my dining companion that I could eat a lot of this, but I'm being reserved. I would happily eat a bucket of this with my hands if I had a bottle or two of the wine on the side. It's the dish of the night and part of me knows it.

Lamb with eggplant next and it's good enough. The eggplant again feels like it's playing the "fat" of the dish, which is smart.

Dessert time and we kick off with a grape sorbet which is good but adds little and a warm tarte tatin, which feels related to a creme brulee. The matched botrytis reisling feels too strong for a subdued dish. And it still does for the next dish, musk melon in sauternes with black pepper, which just tastes like honeydew with a little black pepper.

Finally, a chocolate pave. It's simple but delicious, matched to a nice tokay from Seppeltsfield. Until the chai mochi as a quasi-petit four (or petit one).

Now. A couple of the dishes I may have missed an element, because the take home menu they gave us at the end was wrong. We didn't ask for it; it was part of the "experience". If we hadn't have been given the menu, the "experience" (TM?) wouldn't have been affected at all, but after giving us a menu with a couple of incorrect dishes? Forget about it. (no, we didn't go off menu at all)

Before leaving I take one last look at the spectacular Japanese garden the table overlooks and try to sum up the meal. The service was good in that every need was taken care of. But it was lacking a bit of fun; a bit of personality. Anyone can repeat the same thing table after table, night after night.

The matching wines could have been better. Some courses could have been better. Some details could have been better.

My meal was good. There is no denying that. No dish was bad and there were some really, really great dishes. But if I compare this to other restaurants I've been to across the world (or even Sydney)... there is a tangible difference between the truly "great" restaurants to Tetsuya's. In every element.

I can't see any other diners around me in the midst of euphoria. I maybe see some diners (and reviewers) that remember when Tesuya's was "the" restaurant and when the "experience" (and food) truly was world class. But the world has moved on. Just because you had a transcendental meal at Tetsuya's a couple of years ago doesn't mean it's the best now. Putting aside any emotional or histrionic attachment just makes you feel like Tetsuya' is... just another "good" fine-dining restaurant in Sydney.


RATING: Okay, may go back [?]

RESTAURANT: Silk Road and Uighur Cuisine

Uyghur cuisine. The food of choice of Turkics (basically, Chinese muslims) living in China. Since I first tasted it at Uighur Cuisine on Dixon St in Chinatown, I fell in love. These.people.know.how.to.eat.

While Uighur Cuisine still has the best Xinjiang lamb skewers I've tasted, I've found that Silk Road is more rounded, offering some great handmade noodles dishes and some really great rendition of Szechuan dishes. Uighur Cuisine is a bit more hit and miss, with some pretty average dishes on the menu

There are two Silk Roads. The bigger (and newer) one on Thomas Street (opposite the perennial favourite, Chinese Noodle Restaurant) and one on (I think) the corner of Ultimo Road and Quay Street (basically, up the lane from the Thomas Street one).

The Xinjiang lamb skewers are essential. While I maybe have posted a recipe for the skewers and some spring rolls, it's hard to beat the original, fired over some coals, or whatever it is they fire them over (poor performance?). I find the ones on Quay/Ultimo are a bit fatty, but still quite edible.

But it's the side dishes that make the meal. The meat pancake thing is puffy and crunchy and oily and delicious. As is the chicken with Chinese buns. And the spicy tofu salad (a typical Szechuan dish). And... you get the idea. The dumplings seem to be a bit frozen and reheated, so keep your wits about you and order things that don't seem "standard" and you'll totally win at eating.


RATING: Will constantly return to [?]

RECIPE: Ragu

In a long line of girls that I would describe as simultaneously "interesting" and "attractive", she was the latest one.

As smart as she was handsome, she possessed an inherent ability to analyse situations and be all... "meta" about shit.

Finally we were at the stage where it wasn't weird or presumptuous to ask the person to the other person's place for what can only be described as "a date" (TM).

I decided to make ragu.


Ragu is an amazing dish. But it's the sort of thing that doesn't try to be. A meat sauce for pasta that has as many variations as it does people attempting to make it.

My attempting to make it contains thusly:
- 1 cacchiatori
- 3 pork and fennel sausages, with filling squeezed out so they're like meatballs
- 250g of whatever mince looks good
- 250g of diced whatever meat looks nice and fatty
- 50g of smoked speck
- 1 large onion, diced
- 1 carrot, diced
- 2 celery stalks, diced
- Either 8 tomatoes peeled and diced, or 2 tins of tomatoes
- Half a bulb of garlic, roasted in the oven
- Half a bottle of a fruity wine
- 1.5 litres of a weakish vegetable stock
- 1 teaspoon of fennel seeds, ground
- A solid grating of nutmeg
- A couple of basil leaves, a few sage leaves and a small grab of parsley chopped fairly finely
- Salt and pepper to taste
- Neutral oil to good it in

I cook that according to a normal stew recipe sort of thing, add it to some pasta (papardelle or penne are my favourites) and top it with some freshly chopped parsley and a good grating or shaving of parmigianno reggiano and I'm done.




It's just so perfect.

The ragu on it's own is like an amazing stew that would be great enough on it's own. But then you add good pasta and you add good cheese and it becomes one of the best dishes around. And all you did was stew together some meats that looked good and some seasonal vegetables. It's peasant food. It shouldn't be this great, but it is. And if you add some crusty bread, a simple garden salad on the side and a solid red wine... enough said.


She noticed that I was more interesting with the ragu than I was her, so she left (not until after finishing her bowl, I should add).


I think I'll be forever single. Because never have I ever felt as much for a woman as I have for a good ragu.

BEER: Beers of the Week

A new segment. Maybe.


3rd place - Murray's Craft Brewing Co "Angry Man" Brown Ale.

From what I understand this beer is relatively new to the market, despite having come out earlier, I think only on tap. If that makes sense (it doesn't; it's probably wrong).

It opens with a big, big hit of bitterness and hops. It makes you're thinking one of those weak, bitter brown ales that don't really play to their colour. But then malt appears on the midpalate and balances things off a little, until a really nice waft of milk chocolate comes through on the finish.

While this isn't a great or complicated beer, you can easily enjoy 3 or 4 bottles until the bitterness becomes a little too much.

85%


2nd place - Mikkeller/Three Floyds "Oatgoop" Barley Wine.

I don't know if I've mentioned it on the blog before, but up until around 18 months ago I was a wine man. I definitely enjoyed a good beer (my favourites were the Belgians I'd had at the Belgian Beer Cafe), but it was so hard to find quality beer in a retail setting that I gave up. That all changed around nine months after I moved to Bellevue Hill in Sydney's Eastern Suburbs. Sitting on the main road of the suburb's small collection of neighbourhood shops is the local bottle-o, Platinum Liquor. I'd written it off as a mere neighbourhood bottle-o. But then I went inside... Little did I know that this shop has one of the best selections of beer in Sydney. Since that first visit, when I loaded up on a whole bunch of exceptional beers (picked out with the help of the amazingly knowledgeable staff) I've been hooked on beer, visiting regularly to top up supplies. And if the amazing beer wasn't enough, the staff often throw an interesting bottle of something I haven't tried before my way (in a non-threatening way). Today I got a bottle of this Mikkeller/Three Floyds barley wine collabo that had been sitting on the shelf for a while and has apparently escaped my attention.

The shelf time has helped this beer hugely. It's stunningly mellow for a barley wine. It starts slightly sweet but the sweetness and barleyness (what?) just keeps growing. By the end it's like a sweet porridge.

Carbonation is also mellow, making this beer stupidly easy to drink, which is stupidly dangerous considering it's 10.4% abv.

90%


1st place - Coopers Best Extra Stout.

I'm a stout man. I won't deny it. The malty sweetness in dark beers hits my tastebuds in the best spots, meaning that if I find a decent enough stout I can drink far, far too many, unlike a lighter beer that tends to wear the palate our too quickly by only hitting the savoury senses.

Coopers Best Extra Stout is, in my opinion, easily Australia's best stout, in terms of consistency and ease of availability. There are some smaller producers that I think edge it out, but they don't have the reach or the consistency.

The taste doesn't really evolve much. It starts bitter, with a bit of cocoa. And that's how it ends. But the carbonation is at the perfect spot between lively and sessionable. And you get hints of greatness along the way. A bit of malt here, some nutmeg there.

It all adds up to make a delicious beer that is consistently good, well circulated, great value, on par with some of the best mass-produced stouts around and, for some reason, very Australian. And that's why it's my beer of the week.

88%

RESTAURANT: Gumshara Ramen

Today I was craving noodles something fierce. This is hardly surprising. On the list of things that I often crave, noodles are up there with things like "booze", "human attention" and "for the tears to stop". Also not surprising was that when I felt the craving humming in my stomach, my attention switched to a familiar tiny ramen stall in Chinatown.

Gumshara is an astonishing place, if only for the fact that I think everyone on the planet agrees that the tonkatsu ramen there is the best in the CBD, if not the country. Yes, it's that.fucking.good.

It has a bit of a soup nazi feel to it. It's hidden in a food court that you'd find hard to stumble upon (despite it being so close to Dixon St). You walk up to the counter, usually after queueing for a couple of minutes (during which time you watch the one or two guys in the kitchen going about their business), you ask the lady for the tonkatsu ramen and you ask her for the soft boiled egg. You wait for a few minutes, they call your number (even though you KNOW that bowl is yours), you lurch forward and collect the tray, and then you find a seat, weaving between other people carrying ramen or stir fries or Hainan chicken rice.

Not since I dabbled in catholicism as a child have I had that feeling of being surrounded by people that follow the same rituals; the same movements. The people there for the first time stick out, until they (quickly) learn the motions.


All of a sudden you aren't aware of anything around you. Your eyes are wide but you see nothing but what's in front of you.

Tunnel vision.

You can taste it all separately. The noodles. The sheet of seaweed. The soft boiled egg. The mushrooms. The spring onions. And... the broth... A pork broth so thick and heady that it leaves your lips sticky, your head light, your stomach heated through and your tastes buds sate like they've never been sate before. You just got flavourfucked.


Sure you could have gone for something else like the garlic tonkatsu or the shoyu ramen. But nothing comes to the tonkatsu. Nothing except for the next time you head to Gumshara. Thankfully, that will happen more often that you think is reasonable. Because it's that craving. It's such a specific craving; a craving that can't be killed off by any other bowl of tonkatsu ramen.


RATING: Will constantly return to [?]

RESTAURANT: Flying Fish

My last (and first (and only)) visit to Flying Fish in Pyrmont was around two years ago. While this sounds a little odd considering how much I enjoyed that meal, it does show how many fine dining options there are in Sydney. If you enjoy trying different restaurants, but can’t afford to go every week, then it’s going to be quite a while before you return to some of these places if you like them. To dine here I was forgoing the chance to try some of the other fine-diners that I am still yet to enjoy.

Being two years since my last visit, I was a little nervous about how it was going to pan out, as it was roughly the same time gap since I last visited Bilson’s. And we all know how that turned out. With so many great dining experiences since the last visit, had my palate or standards changed? Had I become (gasp) more discerning?

Walking to the restaurant, I realised I certainly hadn’t become any better at navigating. Last time we came here we wandered around the Pyrmont waterside for ages looking for the restaurant. I joked that this time that wouldn’t happen. Minutes later, it did. Take note, children. Look at a map first. (AND WEAR A SWEATER WHILE YOU'RE AT IT!!!)

Two things made me enjoy Flying Fish the last time I was there. Firstly, and not surprisingly for a restaurant with a piscatorial name, the seafood was spectacular. Fresh, well selected and well handled. The other reason was the service. I still have fond memories of the sommelier we had that night. Knowledgeable of what he was serving, but also friendly and, most importantly, fun. While the view is spectacular, I think the memories of that night are the reason why we requested an upstairs table for the return visit, on the off chance that we might get the same table and have the same sommelier serve us.

While I don’t consider it an official “Thing That Made Me Enjoy Flying Fish Last Time I Was There” (TM), the fact that it serves up refined Sri Lankan food is also a bit of an appeal to me, a huge fan of the flavours that country’s cuisine puts out.

Finally we see the pier we have to walk up, making sure we avoid the delivery/parking lane that we walked up last time.

While we don’t get an upstairs table, we do get a table right by the window, overlooking the harbour. A pretty fair compromise.

After a tasty amuse bouche of a crab, caviar and cream tart, the first dish arrives. And it is a total stunner. Seared yellow fin tuna with grapefruit, pork belly, pork crackling and black pepper caramel. A great piece of fish, perfectly cooked. The caramel is too sweet on its own, but plays an important part when everything on the dish is combined. It has that sweet/savoury thing happening and it definitely wakes the taste buds up. There’s also a few layers of texture which work well together. Although there is maybe a little too much caramel on the plate. The sourness of the grapefruit adding another dimension to the flavour and transporting it to a sweet/sour Sri Lankan dish, as if a fair whack of tamarind was added. The grapefruit also cuts the sweetness of the caramel and leaves a neutral taste in the mouth. The dish is paired with a borderline tasteless rose (I hate roses normally so don’t take my word for anything here) which feels oddly appropriate.

I feel guilty for leaving some caramel on the plate, but the dish would be too sweet if I ate it all. Then again, it’s caramel. Does it really matter if I leave some on the plate? Hmm, a deep metaphysical debate to be considered when my dining companion leaves the table for a toilet break.

Looks like Bilson’s last week just wasn’t.that.good. Two years ago Flying Fish was great. Two years later it is great.

Ocean trout cooked sous vide is next and it’s delicious. Regardless of how many restaurants have a confit/sous vide/slow-cooked ocean trout dish, it never gets dull. Here it sits with quinoa and a pea mousse and is topped with (if I remember correctly) caviar. The fish is incredibly soft and pairs well with the flavours and textures of the other ingredients. The puffed quinoa adds that textural element that was attempted in multiple dishes at Bilson’s last week but wasn’t achieved.

Soft shell crab with black pepper curry leaf sauce and coconut salad is amazing. Each element is separate. And excellent. I seem to remember there also being some grapefruit there, again playing with the sweet/sour of Sri Lankan food (if the black pepper curry sauce wasn’t enough of a nod to the sub-continent).

The dinner takes a severe turn. Roasted hapuka (similar to groper) with hazelnut, balsamic potato, grape, capers and buerre noisette. From dishes that played straight to Sri Lankan taste, we’re now playing to French/Italian. The punchy, curry flavours are turned down and the flavour of the ingredients are turned up. Well-paired ingredients and an excellent bit of fish add up to an excellent dish.

After a palate cleanser of berry jelly with cucumber, pomegranate and fruit (a spoon would have been nice to eat this with), we stay subdued and hit up a piece of wagyu with shredded, braised short rib, mushroom, beetroot puree, smoked leek and horseradish sauce. On the side is a leaf salad, perfectly crisp and perfectly dressed. The beef—in both forms—is delicious. As is the mushroom. As is... you get the idea. A great dish. Part of me thinks that Flying Fish should concentrate on fish for every course and set itself apart as a “fish restaurant”, but it was a great dish so I won’t complain.

Cheese course next with some gorgonzola, figs and other things I don’t recall. A good cheese course. I don’t normally like blue cheese, finding the aftertaste too confronting, but the fig pairs well.

“Tastes and textures of apple” is next and it’s probably the first dish that feels like it’s trying to appeal to diner’s more accustomed to other (read: French) fine diners around Sydney. Apple is presented various ways. It’s delicious. I love apple. I would have liked a wine pairing with this too, though, as it isn’t an insubstantial dish. A good wine pairing would have made this a very solid dish.

Finally, a banana plate. Banana tart, a piece of banana and a banana and popcorn semi-freddo. Banana and I have had out differences over the years, but this is delicious. It’s banana.



Service was a little mixed on the night, with some staff being excellent--friendly and informed—but others seemingly going through the motions.

Wine matches to the food were generally good, but the wines weren’t that great for some of the courses. I’d like to see some more excellent local wines used and less of a reliance on the international wines that often have less bang for the buck.

The chair I was in was terrible. While comfortable to sit on, the backs sloped back slightly at the top, meaning that whenever I sat back against the chair, I was leaning back slightly and felt off balance. An unnerving feeling. But that could have been because of me, no one else seemed to be having that problem.


After my first visit of Flying Fish I knew it was good, but I didn’t think it was in the top echelon of restaurants in Sydney. I still believe that. While there are some tremendous flavours on the plate and a great selection of seafood to be had, the food just doesn’t have that perfect balance that the top restaurants do. Still, for the uniqueness of a Sri Lankan fine-diner and for excellent seafood (and everything else) it’s WELL worth a visit.

While I hope that I get to return before two more years, I doubt that it’s going to happen. With the new set of (amazing) restaurants due to open later in the year at nearby Star City, I imagine that I’ll be spending a lot of time there. Being out of the way, I hope that Flying Fish can stay open and competitive and continue to serve up great food for many more years to come.



RATING: Will return to [?]

RESTAURANT: Bilson's

When the 2011 Good Food Guide was announced, the local culinary scene went pretty apeshit over Tetsuya’s dropping down from three to two hats. But in the background, an equally apeshit demotion was taking place: Bilson’s also dropped from three to two. This I felt was unjust. My visit to Bilson’s had been spectacular. I’d rated the restaurant up with Quay and Marque as the best in Sydney.

But in the food business, a lot can change in two years.

Enter a new chef at Bilson’s with an ambitious plan, and enter a new appreciation for fine dining at This Blog. It almost went hand in hand: Bilson’s brought out a 15 course degustation that they claimed was amongst the best in the world, just after a year in which I’d had some of the best degustations of the world.

But 15 courses? Fuck me, that’s a lot of goddamn courses.

A lot of press has been made of the $280 price tag that accompanies said 15 courses, and excludes and drinks that accompany said 15 courses. But, really, if it turned out to be great food then it’s hardly a rip off: It takes a lot of staff to make fifteen courses of well-presented food that includes excellent ingredients.

And so I headed in, having been warned that it will take around four hours to see the entirety of the “epiphanie” menu.

What ensued was five hours and fifteen courses of... food.

Part of me doesn’t want to take anything away from a restaurant ambitious enough to challenge themselves with an audacious goal of a fifteen course meal and a desire to be held among the world’s best.

Another part of me looks for excuses as to why I wasn’t in raptures about the food. Had too much dining spoilt me? No, it would have given me even more appreciation. Was there something about the mood that impacted the dining experience? No, we were in good spirits. Was there something wrong with my palate? I doubt it.

But it’s the largest part that is saying that it was just a lacklustre meal. It certainly wasn’t poor; and there certainly wasn’t any “bad” dishes. The whole thing was just completely uninspiring.

Because of balance.

Balance was lacking.

I don’t see why some people oppose the use of modern techniques in cooking. I partly understand why they object, but still don’t fully understand why they can’t just change their mind once they realise how nice it can often be.

But here... Here modern techniques are to blame.

Modern techniques work purely because they delivery tastes in a different and sometimes entirely unexpected way. There is no point in using modern techniques for the sake of using modern techniques, which it felt like in my dinner at Bilson’s. You can compress the shit out of apple, but it’s pointless if the texture and flavour don’t gel with the rest of dish.

A great dish—in a fine dining setting—works in the mouth. You feel like every ingredient and texture was placed there for a reason. And it was, because that’s fine dining. But I got that feeling maybe twice during the fifteen opportunities that they had to deliver it. A world standard restaurant will deliver nearly fifteen.

The frustrating thing is that nearly every dish had an element to it that was thoroughly enjoyable. There was the green apple cous cous. The dried chicken skin. The meaty cod. The calamari. But something would spoil it every. Single. Time. The cod and the chicken skin were great on that plate, but then a furious punch of citrus was introduced and would destroy any lingering flavours. Where was the balance? Citrus may have worked, but in the right proportion; delivered in the right way.

The best dishes were when it was kept simple. Seasonal vegetables with some cheese and a little coffee to provide a bitter balance, expertly placed to provide a clear distinction from the earlier, more cloying dishes. Some seasonal mushrooms with an acidic hum of vinegar.

But just as there were hints that things were looking good—very good—something came along and ruined it. Beef short ribs were as tender as you can get, but they came with too much potato and watercress, which ruined the balance and made the dish far too light to carry the red wine it was matched too. And then lamb with an eggplant and miso puree, which is a puree that has been used dozens of times and felt dull in the face of a seemingly ambitious menu. Or a raspberry encased in a gold leaf covered square of jelly, for no reason whatsoever.

And I have to feel sorry for the people that opt for one of the other degustations and pay the supplement for the chocolate box, which is nothing more than chocolates in the place of petit fours.

Sadly, it wasn’t just the food that has changed since my last meal at Bilson’s. The borderline empty dining room was devoid of any enjoyment, which was served in abundance last time. And while the sommelier was knowledgeable, he lacked the presence of the last head sommelier.

While Bilson’s is still serving up good food, I felt it was a long way off serving food at the top of world standard. And there was a severe lack of epiphanies. For the money, every serious Sydney restaurant is doing markedly better food. I wish Bilson’s was doing better food and I could recommend it to people, because my first time there was amazing. But now... I’m going to be pointing people—and myself—elsewhere.


RATING: Okay, may go back [?]

Tacos

The great Mexi-Con. Why must all Mexican food in Sydney be so god-awful? In the midst of unbridled culinary discovery, why is the height of Mexican exploration the cooking of a meat with an Old El Paso simmer sauce instead of the normal taco sauce?

You can do better, Sydney, you fuck.

Tacos.

1.
Slow roasted pork belly
Julienne of green apple
Red onion, sliced
Cheese
Sour cream
Pork crackling, cut up
Salt and pepper
Chipotle chilli sauce.

2.
Chicken thighs, cumin, paprika, garlic, coriander seeds, coriander stalk, grilled tomatoes, red onion, a cup of water. Slow cooked until the liquid evaporates.
Oil, black beans, cumin, paprika, garlic, weak vegetable stock. Blend. It's a bean dip.
Avocado, red onion, garlic, lime, coriander, olive oil, salt, pepper. Blend. Guac.
Cheese.
Sour cream.
Chipotle chilli sauce.

3.
Chorizo
Bean dip
Guac
Cheese
Sour cream
Chipotle.

I don't have any photos because I ate them too fast because they were too good. A good taco is immediate gratification.



Come on. Fucking think.

Good quality food, cooked with care. Fuck off stale corn chips and processed cheese. Embrace spice. Above everything, embrace freshness.

Cross the border of decency (hint: to decency).

This is just the beginning.

RESTAURANT: Flavour of Ceylon

Sri Lankan cuisine is severely underrated in Sydney. While cuisine from their like-minded brethren India and Malaysia is well regarded, the poor Sri Lankans don't get the same love. Granted, a lot of it is because of the severe lack of Sri Lankan restaurants in Sydney, BUT STILL!!!!!

How can you not love it? Take the almost undefeatable Indian foods that every human on the Earth loves and inject some flair from the likes of Malaysia and other South-East Asian countries and you have amazing, spicy food with spectacular depth and freshness. It's food that is both lively and deep at the same time.

And so I find myself at a place called Flavour of Ceylon in Parramatta on my lunch break.

Let's be honest, the decor is so far outdated I'd feel like a dirty old man for giving Betty White a kiss on the cheek (is she even alive?) if I took her there on a date when the paint was last dried.

But the food. Fuck me, the food.

The lamb vindaloo is a great vindaloo. The black pepper curry was as close to a revelation as I was going to get on that day. Until I came to the EPIC spring hopper biryiani--a mix of spring hoppers (Google them), meat, vegetables, sauce, spice, nuts, fried dried anchovies, and more. The egg kohtuu was dry on that day, but still quite good.

Service was friendly, but all that matters here is the food. How do you beat massive portions of excellent food? And my massive portions, I mean MASSIVE. For three starving guys we got 4 dishes with rice, and we had at least a dishes worth left over. If you only got a main you'd feel full. And they also have a cheaper lunch menu which looks like good value. Though, if I'm being honest, not as pretty as the menu offerings.

So don't come here for decor or service or any of that rubbish. Come here, order off the menu, resist the temptation to order something Indian-sounding and order something you haven't had before, eat it, wash it down with a bottle of their Sri Lankan ginger beer or BYO some light red wine (pinot noir says hi) and, by all means, enjoy the hell out of it.

I just wish it wasn't in Parramatta. Food this good shouldn't be hidden so far away.


RATING: Will return to [?]

RECIPE: Mangalore Rasam

(Clockwise, from right: mangalore rasam, mint rasam, the rasam)


Rasam is a hot and sour soup that (as far as Wikipedia tells me) is big in Southern India and the Tamil areas of India and Sri Lanka. There are dozens of regional variations, which all seam to feature ingredients that are found in that area.

Typically, from the recipes I've seen, the hot part comes from mustard seeds and dried chillis, and the sour part comes from tamarind. In areas where tamarind isn't widely available, they seem to favourite the sourness of lime juice or fermented milk (mmmm).

The other day someone gave me Pushpesh Pant's epic "India: The Cookbook" to take a look at. I browsed through the 1000 recipes inside, but it was rasam that jumped out at me. I've never had it before, but the combination of flavours spoke to me. On an... ingredient... level...

I made three versions from Pant's book: the rasam (the more traditional Tamil Nadu version, as far as I could see), a mint rasam (which substituted tamarind for lime) and a version of rasam from Mangalore, a South-Western coastal city in India. The latter version, with it's use of fried coconut and tomato would prove to be my favourite.

Thusly, I have made a few tweaks to Pant's recipe and I present it for your approval:

Stage One:
- Put 1 tablespoon of ghee or oil into a pan.
- Add 1 tablespoon of cumin seeds, a pinch of fenugreek seeds, 1 teaspoon of black peppercorns, 1 tablespoon of mash/urad dal (if you can't find that (you won't if you don't go to an Indian grocer) just use any dal), a dozen dried curry leaves and 1 tablespoon of coconut.
- Cook, stirring often, until everything is toasted and golden.
- Take off the heat and set the mix aside to cool.
- Your alternative there is to put everything in the oven (minus the ghee/oil) and roast it for a couple of minutes.
- Wrap a few cloves of garlic in foil and put into a moderate over. No need to peel yet.

Stage Two:
- Dice 2 medium sized tomatoes. If you want, you could also dice a capsicum.
- Remove garlic from the oven and remove skin.
- In a pot, add 4 cups (about a litre) of water, a tablespoon of tamarind paste, a generous pinch of salt and stir well.
- While that cooks (stir it every now and then) blend up your toasted spices and dals in a hand blender or spice mix. Blend it to a powder.
- Add the garlic and spice mix to the pot. Stir it, obviously. It should be a soupy consistency. Add more water if needed.

Stage Three;
- In a pan, put a little ghee or oil and get it warm. Add a few dried chillis with their seeds removed, torn up a little, a generous pinch of mustard seeds, a generous pinch of cumin seeds, another dozen or so dried curry leaves and, if you have it, a pinch of asafoetida/hing (which stops the bloated feeling you get after eating lentils).
- As soon as the mustard seeds start popping, add the contents of the pan into your pot of rasam.


Serve over basmati rice with a bit of naan. You'll be a hero. If you aren't already.

RECIPE: Ginger and Shallot Beef

Shallots cut into batons, a finger of ginger sliced, 2 cloves of garlic, diced.

Beef, sliced thinly, dusted with cornflour and seasoned with salt and pepper.

Fry the beef in hot oil. Once brown add the shallots, ginger and garlic.

Once cooked, add a few tablespoons of light soy sauce and mix.


A variation: Ginger and Shallot Prawns



Same as above, but replace beef with prawns and use half the amount of soy sauce.

RESTAURANT: Jazz City Diner

Opened a few months ago, this small American diner style thing is as unassuming as it is good. It's just... there... on the street (not literally, of course). And you go in, and everyone's laid back, and you sit down and you eat good, reasonably priced food.

I fail to see a problem with this scenario.

The burgers are good. Juicy, flavoursome, good balance in ingredients. The onion rings they come with are addictive and probably took 2 years off my life. If you wash it down with something like a chocolate milkshake or a root beer float then you're doing well for yourself.

The main course style dishes also punch above their weight. I'm in what looks and feels like a diner, but I'm eating excellent pork belly with a smart combination of flavours, and stupidly rich coca cola braise short ribs. For dishes priced in the mid $20s mark, they do damn well. The portions seem on the smaller side, but the food is extremely rich and quite filling.

We finish with pie (pecan or banana on this particular night) and it was a stupid decision after the other food eaten. It's a nice pie, but I don't know what is hurting me more: the sugar rush or the body struggling to process the rich food.

While I wouldn't repeat that amount of eating again, I would come back to this place. For a lighter lunch or dinner I couldn't think of many things better that a nice burger, those onion rings and a nice milkshake. Except for maybe one of the main dishes and a milkshake.


RATING: Will return to [?]

RESTAURANT: Il Vicoletto

It seems a bit strange to call a restaurant "The Alley" when your address says Crown St, Darlinghurst. Last time I checked, that was a fairly decent "road" (or "street". Is there a difference?).

Normally I would have been a bit "okay, whatever" but I think it's an accurate name for this place, since it seems to exist in a parallel universe where main roads are alleys and restaurants from the 70s are still relevant in 2011.

It almost feels like a mistake walking into this place with it's ancient decor. Like you meant to go to a prototypical Darlinghurst restaurant but accidentally went back in time (which happens SO OFTEN to me).

It reminds me of my childhood in the suburbs. Or something. And they weren't particularly glamorous occasions (all of childhood was an unglamorous occasion, really).

The menu is standard old school Italian food, with a tinge of "people that live in Darlinghurst want to create their own dish so it's versatile". We start with pasta and it's solid. It's not great, but it's certainly not bad. For around $10/11 for the entree size (around $15 for the main) it punches well for it's weight.

The wine list isn't the best. For reds we have the choice of Lindeman's or Wolf Blass. Opting for BYO seems to be a better option next time.

Pizzas next and (again) it's solid. Not great, but not bad. The pasta is probably better.

The are meat dishes on the menu, but we prefer to keep it simple with pizza and pasta.

To finish, tiramisu. One of the yardsticks of an Italian restaurant. And it's good. A cube on the plate of decent tiramisu. What more could you want.

The key to this place is value for money. Nothing is great about this place, but nothing is bad. Hell, even the 70s decor is somewhat charming in the way it reminds me of my youth. But for 3 full courses and a bottle of wine we paid under $50 a head.

And that's pretty good value. Especially in a CBD starved of acceptable, cheap Italian food.


RATING: Will return to [?]

RECIPE: Xin Jiang Lamb Spring Rolls

This will probably come across as arrogant or foolish, but these spring rolls are probably one of the best things I've ever made. I don't even want to know how many of these things I'd be able to eat.



And best of all, they're pretty easy.

First, you need to make a big pot of filling for the spring rolls. Grab everything in my Xin Jiang lamb skewer recipe and put it into a pot. But this time, use only 500g of meat and double the amount of soy. This will give you enough filling for around 12 large spring rolls.

Brown off the lamb, then add 4 cups of water. Bring to the boil, then cover and reduce to a low/medium heat.

Cook the lamb like this until the meat falls apart. It should take 1-2 hours, but check it every now and then to see how it's going and if any more water is needed. The end result will be a wet mixture of soft, shredded lamb.

Set that aside to cool in the fridge.

Once cool, you're ready to assemble. On a large spring roll sheet (of adjust if you're using smaller), add a heaped tablespoon of the mixture and some pieces of finely sliced shallot (sliced on the diagonal). Roll like a spring roll/burrito, making sure the ends have been completely sealed.

Then fry them off in some hot oil until golden brown.

Dust with some ground cumin and szechuan pepper to finish.