tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13930703924939231752024-03-13T11:35:12.769-07:00Plate LickerPlate Lickerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11040573412122698464noreply@blogger.comBlogger26125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1393070392493923175.post-45063670029190483312013-11-20T10:34:00.001-08:002013-11-20T10:46:14.054-08:00A lack of choice in Singapore - and for that I am grateful<b style="background-color: white;">Venue: </b><span style="background-color: white;">Esquina</span><br />
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<b>Style:</b> European, tapas</div>
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<b>Address:</b> 16 Jiak Chuan Road, Singapore [<a href="https://maps.google.com.hk/maps?q=16+Jiak+Chuan+Road,+Singapore&hnear=16+Jiak+Chuan+Rd,+Singapore+089267&gl=hk&t=m&z=17&brcurrent=3,0x0:0x0,0" target="_blank">Google Maps</a>]</div>
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<b>Phone:</b> +65 6222 1616</div>
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<b>Hours:</b> Lunch Mon-Fri from 12pm / Dinner Mon-Sat from 6pm</div>
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<b>Bookings:</b> Yes, recommended [the menu says, "no reservations!" but apparently there's been a change in policy]</div>
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<b>Website:</b> <a href="http://esquina.com.sg/" target="_blank">http://esquina.com.sg/</a></div>
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Some contemporary psychologists contend that too much choice leads to unhappiness; this is based on the idea that when faced with a range of options, we experience "analysis paralysis," uncertain of how to make the best decision and, thereafter, regret over that which we did not choose.<br />
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Anecdotally, I can appreciate this, as I am a food fetishist now living in Hong Kong, a relatively small area offering 12,000 hawker stalls, dessert bars, sky bars, normal bars, cantinas, steakhouses, private kitchens and some guy with a sweet potato and quail egg cart which smells surprisingly good each time I walk past. It is the foodie equivalent of Whack-A-Mole; for every remarkable eatery you visit, there are a dozen more you should try and five more probably opened as I was finishing this sentence.<br />
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It was with relief that last week's trip to Singapore was only for two nights, denying me much choice in where we dined. There were only two destinations: 1) local Singaporean fare at the Maxwell Food Centre and, 2) Esquina.<br />
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Like it's sister restaurant in Hong Kong, <a href="http://www.22ships.hk/" target="_blank">22 Ships</a>, Esquina is named for where it is situated; the former on Ship Street, the latter literally on a corner (the Spanish word being, 'esquina'). I can see why they opted not to name themselves after the street itself - "Jiak Chuan Road" was entirely meaningless to our cab driver, who thought we'd prefer to spend the evening in a car park instead.<br />
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Once inside, we engaged in conversation with executive chef Andrew Walsh, who sold us on the multi-course tasting menu without so much as having to twist an arm (no brutish behaviour whatsoever; you do wonder if you'll at least get some colourful language when dealing with a team whose culinary director is a protégé of Gordon Ramsay).</div>
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We drank Palacio Remondo's 2011 "La Vendimia" rioja blend of garnacha and tempranillo, not because I know that much about wine but the blood orange and soft tannins tasting notes struck me as being well suited to a meal that would run the gamut of seafood, cured meat, paprika and Manchego.</div>
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First came breakfast, a miniature stew of pure egg, smoky Iberico and a bravas sauce at the bottom that was so tangy as to be sweet. In a good way. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Spanish Breakfast: Slow-cooked egg, bravas sauce, potato & crispy Iberico</td></tr>
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For our second courses, I opted for the scallop ceviche, which was so clean-tasting as to almost be a palate cleanser. Really, they should make a gum flavour out of this dish. Nate and I swapped plates halfway and I tried his Iberico Bellota course, which is as melt-in-your-mouth as pork products get, with a nutty taste.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-AQb9Q_loKGE/UozOKvW1k8I/AAAAAAAABPI/rRZF6xjnlHw/s1600/IMG_6096_scallopwasabi.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-AQb9Q_loKGE/UozOKvW1k8I/AAAAAAAABPI/rRZF6xjnlHw/s1600/IMG_6096_scallopwasabi.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Scallop ceviche, iced cucumber, avocado and wasabi puree, radish and yuzu ponzu</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Iberico Bellota</td></tr>
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Up next is sea urchin, a delicacy that doesn't overwhelm people with happiness if you tell them that's what you're bringing to a dinner party. The outer spines effectively conceal that inside, there is nothing but tender deliciousness. This course was the umami equivalent of a nuclear weapon; Nate and I ceased to have any awareness of one another's presence while this was in front of us. It's remarkable how meaty seafood can taste and this was like a crayfish had had its genes spliced with a bag of Porcini mushrooms.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sea urchin & crab bisque, sea grapes & herring roe</td></tr>
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Things briefly get out of hand when whipped potato explodes from chef Andrew's cream cannister, decorating the guests sitting next to us as well as the good chef himself. They may be perturbed, I can't tell, but Andrew has a sense of humour about it, leans in for a photo and orders complimentary drinks for the "victims."<br />
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The remnant of confit egg yolk dripping down the side of the shell in the picture below gives some sense of the decadence of Esquina's beef tartare: you are encouraged to tear apart your bread, pile it up with the ruby red beef pieces and mop up the creamy egg and frozen foie gras gratings as you eat. It's a triumph of excess.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beef tartare, spicy ketchup, confit egg yolk, frozen foie gras & toast</td></tr>
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The tartare is a tough act to follow, but having tried 22 Ships' smoked beetroot, goats cheese and pear dish, I figured this variant with burrata and honeycomb would not let us down. It's a masterful combination of taste and texture, I just can't go past a dish that is smooth, crunchy, sweet, nutty and herbaceous all at once. Another word that needs inventing: something that describes a person who is greedy for sensory variation.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Marinated beetroot salad, honeycomb burrata, pinenut crumble</td></tr>
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I realize that saying "everything is amazing" is boring but I can only work with the facts. The honey roasted chicken wings do bear a resemblance to a bowl of rolled oats, but the crumbly granola and truffle milk is delicate and balanced, with no element overwhelming the other and we wanted more, on the spot.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Honey roasted chicken wings, pinenut, bacon & oatmeal granola, truffle artichoke milk</td></tr>
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Next in the procession, another scallop dish, essentially a "surf 'n turf" but with a regional variation: airy green curry with gamey duck meat alongside the large, firm scallop and the best coconut rice I've tried (could the secret be to use coconut cream rather than milk?).<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Seared scallops, duck green curry, pickled papaya, coconut rice</td></tr>
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Nate and I had been eyeing the roasted padron peppers leaving the kitchen and our hungry eyes were rewarded with a complimentary plate of them, in all their spicy, chargrilled, garlicky glory.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Roasted padron pepper, chilli, garlic, salt</td></tr>
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Closing out the savoury courses was the most aggressively meaty dish on the menu: a combination of ox cheek and tongue, with great development of flavours, which had been cooked long enough as to dissolve in the mouth, set against a half-crunchy half-smooth hazelnut pesto sauce.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ox cheek & tongue, tarragon & hazelnut pesto</td></tr>
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Pre-dessert tasters of sangria ice-cream cones are cute but could taste more of sangria for my liking.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sangria ice-cream cones</td></tr>
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I decide to be predictable and give in to my chocolate craving, ordering up the chocolate mousse with chocolate soil, blackberries and churros. The mousse comes in a nice, thick quenelle but isn't noteworthy, though the churros are right on the mark: crisp and fresh without a trace of grease. Nate's choice of peanut butter with caramelized banana and rum is more memorable, with its distinctive sweet, burnt flavours.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chocolate mousse, chocolate soil, blackberries, served with churros [background]</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Peanut butter & jam sandwich, peanut butter ice cream, caramelized bananas, rum & raisin jam</td></tr>
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It is at this point that I am reminded of something Steve Martin said: "Talking about music is like dancing about architecture." The same is true of food, assuming that, like music, it makes you feel something. Something that you must tell others about, so that they might be moved as well. It's then that you realize how inadequate language is and that there is no word that captures exactly how a paper-thin slice of dry-aged pork feels against your tongue. Someone once said to me, as I struggled to describe something, "It's the memory of it that's always better anyway." Spoken like a veteran of the only thing worse than bad food - bad sex. The memory of it is never as good which makes the moment in which you eat it that much more tantalising, because soon it will be over and no barrage of language can capture the visceral pleasure of well-made food, particularly when eaten in good company.<br />
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Plate Lickerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11040573412122698464noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1393070392493923175.post-22721589063227842072013-03-19T03:00:00.000-07:002013-05-08T09:57:05.862-07:00Pope parties, steak and a lack of planning<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption">Rock you like an Ecclesiastical hurricane</td></tr>
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Argentina is indeed a blessed land, and not because one of their countrymen was just elected pope. Rather, this is a place where dulce de leche is a BREAKFAST spread. Think caramel-flavoured Nutella, or, diabetes with your morning coffee.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yes, I was the weirdo photographing the Catedral de Buenos Aires floor</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...and the wall, too</td></tr>
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Speaking of 'Papa,' I'm just returned from his inauguration party in Plaza de Mayo. Never mind your thoughts on the Catholic establishment, this was a hell (hah) of a good time. Enormous screens have been erected either side of the cathedral and at various other places in the park, set to broadcast the ceremony live from Rome in a few hours. If there is already one thing I'm like to miss about this place, it's the street music. The drummers tonight didn't appear to be part of any official congregation, just locals who are passionate about playing music. The beats were thunderous and prompted the crowd into dancing and flag waving. The scent of charred meat filled the air and smoke rose up across the plaza, from the myriad stalls offering freshly candied almonds, fat chorizo sausages and hunks of pork.<br />
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Maté, the South American infused yerba tea associated with socializing, was readily being poured and handed out by locals. The entire affair had the feel of a carnival, assuming your carnivals feature pope badges, pope mugs, pope flags and a mobile missionary station offering insta-baptisms ("<i>Bautsmos aqui!</i>"). At the edge of the plaza, away from the din, stands Casa Rosada, lit up in pink and blue, where Eva Peron rallied the people from the balcony.<br />
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The city looks and feels like a grittier version of Paris. Belle Époque and Italianate architecture line the avenues and make for a beautiful skyline, while on the ground, the sidewalks are cracked and buckling. Barrio (neighbourhood) Microcentro is as glossy as any modern CBD, with the financial institutions taking up the best real estate, shining glass buildings and besuited <i>porteños </i>favouring pinstripes and statement high heels.<br />
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Tomorrow I leave Buenos Aires for the border of Argentina and Brazil, to see the Iguazu Falls, twice the size of Niagara. The other component to this adventure will be establishing if I can obtain a Brazilian visa at the border consulate. If I can, I may be off to Rio de Janeiro. If I can't, it'll be back to Buenos Aires for a mix of closed-door dinners (chefs who organize private dinners at their homes instead of at restaurant venues), tango, cooking classes, trekking...<br />
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I have no plans. I'm going where my mood takes me.Plate Lickerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11040573412122698464noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1393070392493923175.post-88705289520808691592013-03-18T19:02:00.001-07:002013-05-08T09:01:49.334-07:00La Cabrera, Buenos Aires<b style="background-color: white;">Venue: </b><span style="background-color: white;">La Cabrera</span><br />
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<b>Style:</b> Steakhouse</div>
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<b>Address:</b> 5099 José Antonio Cabrera, Palermo, Buenos Aires, Argentina [<a href="https://maps.google.com.ar/maps?q=la+cabrera+buenos+aires&fb=1&gl=ar&hq=la+cabrera&hnear=0x95bcca3b4ef90cbd:0xa0b3812e88e88e87,Buenos+Aires&cid=0,0,11565776114449552325&t=m&z=16" target="_blank">Google Maps</a>]</div>
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<b>Phone:</b> +54 11 4555 3242</div>
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<b>Hours:</b> Lunch Fri-Mon from 12.30pm / Dinner 7 days (Early Bird from 7pm)</div>
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<b>Bookings:</b> Yes, recommended</div>
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<b>Website:</b> <a href="http://www.parrillalacabrera.com/" target="_blank">http://www.parrillalacabrera.com/</a></div>
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One might say of La Cabrera, come hungry. Or better yet, come from being told by your GP you have an iron deficiency.<br />
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Perhaps iron deficiencies are not widespread in Argentina; their countrymen have an affinity for steak much like the Bavarians have for beer - ordering a small causes something of a commotion and the table-side intervention of the manager.<br />
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Eating Latin means eating late - restaurants in Buenos Aires typically open for dinner at 8.30pm, with diners lingering after midnight and beyond. Buenos Aires native Gaston tells me that unlike the Spanish, porteños do not take siesta, making for some considerable sleep deprivation if not a lack of iron.<br />
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Advantage: gringo. Venues such as La Cabrera are a known entity to tourists, but where this might ordinarily be a reason to avoid the place, dining early affords a 40% discount on all food and wine.<br />
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The waiter and I discuss, in his broken English and my broken Spanish, what I look for in a wine. With verbiage failing us, I get my point across by miming being punched in the nose. Success - the Terrazas de los Andes Reserva Malbec is like being struck with a hand wearing a velvety, purple glove. Aggressive, with style. Tastes of dark fruit, oak and some violet.</div>
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At my waiter's behest, I accept that my black pudding order should come in a half serve - portions at La Cabrera tend to be gargantuan. The pudding arrives in a somewhat sterile fashion on a steel tray, ready for dissection and already bursting goodness. Inside is the equivalent of meat-flavoured peanut butter - hot, spicy and gooey. It's best savoured with lashings of fresh chimichurri.</div>
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La Cabrera's steaks come with a chorus line of supporting players, including pickled onions, creamy mash, applesauce, corn mash, creamed peas, corn cous cous and champignons. The corn mash is the highlight and reminds me of a conversation with some fellow diners once about how restaurants manage to "just make food taste better!" The answer, as demonstrated here, is butter.</div>
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Average portions are 400g with 800g options available in the traditional Argentian style as well as Kobe. So at 200g, my steak is considered miniature. It comes still sizzling on its hot plate, just medium rare and very juicy, with luscious charred flavour.</div>
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Service is punctuated by good humoured staff who are happy to try to negotiate the language barrier. They bring a dulce de leche lollipop tree with the cheque. And the damage? Not that you can call it that; ARS$138 (AUD$26). </div>
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Plate Lickerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11040573412122698464noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1393070392493923175.post-44026478838227782822013-03-03T17:27:00.000-08:002013-03-18T17:29:23.592-07:00Gonzo pornography's little known sub genre: Bacon<b style="background-color: white;">Venue:</b><span style="background-color: white;"> La Luna Bistro</span><br />
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<b>Style:</b> Modern Australian, Steakhouse</div>
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<b>Address:</b> 320 Rathdowne St, Carlton North [<a href="https://maps.google.com.au/maps?q=la+luna+bistro&ll=-37.79093,144.971788&spn=0.013718,0.01929&fb=1&gl=au&hq=la+luna+bistro&hnear=0x6ad646b5d2ba4df7:0x4045675218ccd90,Melbourne+VIC&cid=0,0,1993134177596937693&t=m&z=16&iwloc=A" target="_blank">Google Maps</a>]</div>
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<b>Phone:</b> (03) 9349 4888</div>
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<b>Hours:</b> Tue-Fri 12pm-3pm & 6pm-10pm / Sat-Sun 12pm-4pm & 6pm-10pm</div>
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<b>Prices:</b> Starters $4-19 / Mains $23-57 / Sweets $16 / Feast Menu $85</div>
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<b>Bookings:</b> Yes, recommended</div>
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<b>Website:</b> <a href="http://www.lalunabistro.com.au/" target="_blank">http://www.lalunabistro.com.au/</a></div>
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Another Melbourne Food & Wine Festival, another visit to La Luna. Last year´s <i>Meat, Malbac and Manly Men</i> feast left a lasting impression on me, attributed to the thick, salty-sweet blood brûlée served for dessert (and partly the Argentinian ambassador´s striking white suit).<br />
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This year´s lunch revolved around suckling pigs and concluded with a less gory, more Willy-Wonka-esque take on brûlée, finished with chocolate-covered candied bacon strips.</div>
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The only trouble with starters of house-made lardo, salami and prosciutto is that they´re rife with delicate flavours, smoke and herbs and cannot be ignored into small portions, despite an abstract awareness of how much food is to follow. The pickled onion served alongside the prosciutto especially good, cutting through the ribbons of translucent fat.</div>
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As with the preceding courses in what looks to be a habit forming, the bacon and onion croquettes are a tough prospect for anyone trying to save their appetite. The silkiness of the mayonnaise is accompanied by intense bacon flavour; why isn´t this sort of thing available in a jar? Oh, right, my arteries.</div>
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Pigs ear schnitzel has a satisfying crunch and chewiness, not unlike the texture of veal. As is the norm at La Luna, the bolder flavours are offset by the bed on which they rest: sweet and sour apple cabbage and heat from the hint of mustard.</div>
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As far as mascots for offal are concerned, cottechino should be given a sash and a cheer squad. Cooked over many hours, cottechino goes from charcuterie to almost resembling beef cheek in depth of flavour and softness. La Luna´s spicy cottechino melts away in the mouth and leads to a minor dispute at the table over who will take the last portion, never mind that there is 40kg of suckling pig en route.</div>
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Our last "starter" of pulled pork is more-ish without being mind-blowing. The meat is moist and there´s plenty of sauce, however, it wants for more smoke and heat.</div>
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At last, it´s time for suckling pig, which the kitchen staff parade through the dining room. Formal introductions are made yet I cannot recall any of the pigs´names. I´d feel bad about that were there not worse things to feel bad about where the pigs are concerned...</div>
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They were not wasted, though and large helpings of trotter, tail, crackling and face soon were soon piled high on each table.</div>
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Dessert arrives after a comfortable wait and consists of dense, bite-sized brownies and eye-popping vanilla crème brûlée asking to be eaten with a candied bacon spoon.</div>
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On the matter of fat, the MF&WF programme is thickening each year and is bloated with overpriced events of little inspiration. La Luna remains one of the best value options on offer; the produce and cooking are outstanding and Adrian and his staff are obviously bacon fetishists, such is the fun they have prepping and hosting.<br />
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<a href="http://www.urbanspoon.com/r/71/761063/restaurant/Melbourne/La-Luna-Bistro-Carlton-North"><img alt="La Luna Bistro on Urbanspoon" src="http://www.urbanspoon.com/b/link/761063/biglink.gif" style="border: none; height: 146px; padding: 0px; width: 200px;" /></a>Plate Lickerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11040573412122698464noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1393070392493923175.post-91718760193699521142013-02-24T19:05:00.000-08:002013-05-08T07:37:34.170-07:00"And how would you like your steak, sir?" "In paste form, obviously."<a href="http://io9.com/5986488/will-we-ever-eat-kibble-made-for-humans" target="_blank">io9's Lauren Davis considering today the viability of an inexpensive, single-source food</a>, a la sci-fi depictions of the future in which everyone subsists on pellets and wears identical spandex jumpsuits.<br />
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The ineffectiveness of supplements is proof enough of science's infancy when it comes to synthesizing nutrients. Michael Pollan touched on this in <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Defense-Food-Eaters-Manifesto/dp/1594133328" target="_blank">In Defense of Food</a>, that food scientists may be able to extract and turn vitamin C into a capsule, however, the effect of the vitamin in isolation is negligible or cannot definitively be proven to be effective, compared to when it is consumed with all the other constituents of an actual orange, how they all work in combination with one another.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wonka, W: pioneering food scientist and sadist</td></tr>
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We cannot manufacture anything approaching the complexity of a vegetable, at this point. And even if we could, why would you want to? All the examples cited in the piece speak to the aforementioned issue, that we cannot invent such things without there being a raft of unpleasant and dangerous side effects, unless gallbladder snafus are your idea of minor inconvenience.<br />
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Furthermore, the benefits and pleasures of eating encompass experiences that cannot be distilled into a capsule/loaf/paste, like sight, aroma and texture. From the colours of tomatoes (red, orange, yellow, purple, green) to the scent of fresh thyme to the rich, crunchy mouthfeel of Brazil nuts...no wonder the astronauts longed for something edible that was more than a loaf of utilitarian calories.<br />
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<b>Disclaimer:</b> I am amenable to altering my opinion if Lindt, Callebaut, Nestlé et al come up with a Willy Wonka-inspired confection that convincingly mimics a Negroni and a degustation at Vue de Monde, followed by a toasted cheese jaffle.Plate Lickerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11040573412122698464noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1393070392493923175.post-82535645790467408082012-11-29T05:18:00.001-08:002012-11-29T05:36:39.557-08:00Dave's not here, man, but luckily Fergus is<b style="background-color: white;">Venue:</b><span style="background-color: white;"> Fergus Cafe</span><br />
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<b>Style:</b> Breakfast/Brunch, European, Latin</div>
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<b>Address:</b> 301 Wattletree Road, Malvern East [<a href="https://maps.google.com.au/maps?q=301+Wattletree+Road,+Malvern+East&hl=en&sll=-37.855364,145.02037&sspn=0.056451,0.077162&hnear=301+Wattletree+Rd,+Malvern+East+Victoria+3145&t=m&z=17" target="_blank">Google Maps</a>]</div>
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<b>Phone:</b> (03) 9509 8351</div>
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<b>Hours:</b> Mon-Fri 7.00am - 4.00pm / Sat-Sun 8.00am - 4.00pm</div>
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<b>Prices:</b> Snacks $4-7 / Mains $9-16</div>
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<b>Bookings:</b> No</div>
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<b>Website:</b> <a href="http://www.ferguscoffee.com.au/" target="_blank">http://www.ferguscoffee.com.au/</a></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sweet pumpkin pancakes w/ toasted pepitas, spiced coffee cream, syrup</td></tr>
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Without being able to explain why, 'Fergus' sounds to me like an affectionate nickname for a stoner. A rigorous 12 seconds on Wikipedia reveals that the name is of Old Irish origins and means 'virility,' which is fitting, as residents of Malvern now have a compelling reason to get up in the morning.<br />
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Coming by way of Chapel St's seductive <a href="http://platelickermelb.blogspot.com.au/2012/07/water-of-life-hint-its-not-h2o.html" target="_blank">Eau de Vie</a>, Fergus' owner has designed a menu with Latin and Mediterranean influences and - at last! - some original breakfast offerings for those of us who would like to try something other than avocado and hollandaise.<br />
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The interior design of white tiles with blue accents, industrial fixtures and pop art sounds like the makings of a confused-looking bathroom, but the effect is a bright, glossy space set off with lovely details, such as the house-made nougat wrapped in paper atop a bountiful glass case of caramel slice, croissants and other delectable means of developing cavities.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Treats made in-house: muffins and nougat</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Short macchiato, coffee roasted by the Maling Room</td></tr>
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Apparently, the coffee is roasted by the Maling Room - call me a philistine if you will, but that doesn't mean a whole lot to me, as I've not drunk enough coffee to be able to taste a roaster's distinctive approach (it seems nowadays that everything requires tasting notes...coffee, beer, tea...a conspiracy of enterprising sommeliers?). I do drink short macchiatos however and they're usually overextracted. This one is satisfying, smooth and hot.<br />
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J kindly offers me a taste of his big breakfast of poached eggs with chilli jam, smashed avocado, spinach, bacon and chorizo. The sausage is the highlight, with lots of smoke, particularly after the disappointment of the Bratwurst masquerading as chorizo at the Latin Festival on Johnston St.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Poached eggs, chilli jam, chorizo, bacon, spinach, smashed avocado</td></tr>
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I order the sweet pumpkin pancakes on the basis that they are the chef's signature dish and that I have never seen them on a menu before. They take a little more time to arrive than I'd expected, but I'll wait for them again if I must: they are so soft they melt away in my mouth, the pepitas countering with their crunchy texture. Spiced coffee cream is an inspired condiment, although it virtually melts as soon as it touches the hot pancakes. It's a rich, simple, aromatic dish and it's all I need to know what Fergus is about.<br />
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Granted, I'll be back to establish what the pulled pork roll on the lunch menu is all about.</div>
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<a href="http://www.urbanspoon.com/r/71/1715173/restaurant/Melbourne/Fergus-Cafe-Malvern-East"><img alt="Fergus Cafe on Urbanspoon" src="http://www.urbanspoon.com/b/link/1715173/biglink.gif" style="border: none; height: 146px; padding: 0px; width: 200px;" /></a>Plate Lickerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11040573412122698464noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1393070392493923175.post-60463510775997287212012-09-27T08:26:00.001-07:002012-09-27T16:02:26.669-07:00Mi casa, su casa, pass the tequila<b style="background-color: white;">Venue:</b><span style="background-color: white;"> Fonda Mexican</span><br />
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<b>Style:</b> Mexican</div>
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<b>Address:</b> 248 Swan Street, Richmond [<a href="https://maps.google.com.au/maps?q=fonda+mexican&fb=1&gl=au&hq=fonda+mexican&hnear=0x6ad646b5d2ba4df7:0x4045675218ccd90,Melbourne,+VIC&cid=0,0,17513800973039345467&t=m&z=16&iwloc=A" target="_blank">Google Maps</a>]</div>
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<b>Phone:</b> (03) 9429 0085</div>
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<b>Hours:</b> Sun-Thu 12.00pm - 9.30pm / Fri & Sat 12.00pm - 10.30pm</div>
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<b>Prices:</b> Tacos $6 / Mains $12-15</div>
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<b>Bookings:</b> No</div>
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<b>Website:</b> <a href="http://fondamexican.com.au/" target="_blank">http://fondamexican.com.au/</a></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chilled horchata and mixed tacos</td></tr>
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This week, Melburnians were treated to the first breath of spring weather, with conditions - at last - ever so slightly more hospitable than the Arctic Circle. The warm air and lunchtime rays put us in the mood for chillis and citrus, something bright and fresh.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sage advice</td></tr>
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Fonda Mexican is doing a roaring trade at midday but happily, there are no queues of Mamasita-proportions to deal with. It has the feel of a Mexican diner, with friendly, efficient service, a hypercolour drinking courtyard and cheerful music. We sit kerbside and are promptly joined by our food.<br />
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Ample portions of horchata are served in jars and are the ideal respite when your mouth is overloaded with jalapeños. This milky beverage is light and rejuvenating, gently spiced with cinnamon and vanilla. It is a testament to what can be done with evaporated milk, which I've a growing appreciation for since a friend made a sumptuous <a href="http://southamericanfood.about.com/od/maincourses/r/ajidegallina.htm" target="_blank">aji de gallina</a> for me (a spicy, Peruvian chicken stew).<br />
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Soft tacos are pressed to order; the slow-cooked goat taco is succulent and creamy, with its ample lashing of guacamole. As some other diners have mentioned, the meaty tacos have a propensity to drip, so leave the white Armani at home, but I was not bothered, such was my happiness munching on such delicious fare in the sunshine.<br />
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The fish taco is also good, an elegant vehicle for the power of the chipotle aioli, accompanied with crunchy, pickled vegetables.<br />
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Two tacos is enough to sate me today, so I've no excuse to try the pickled cactus quesadilla, but indeed, we've summer still to come and Fonda Mexican are considerate enough to not only be cooking traditional, delicious cantina fare, but also to be licensed and serving up 100% agave frozen margaritas.<br />
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<a href="http://www.urbanspoon.com/r/71/1631993/restaurant/Melbourne/Fonda-Mexican-Richmond"><img alt="Fonda Mexican on Urbanspoon" src="http://www.urbanspoon.com/b/link/1631993/biglink.gif" style="border: none; height: 146px; padding: 0px; width: 200px;" /></a>Plate Lickerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11040573412122698464noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1393070392493923175.post-89086216079102497932012-09-25T06:38:00.000-07:002012-09-25T06:54:01.090-07:00A wonderful, maaagical animal<b style="background-color: white;">Venue:</b><span style="background-color: white;"> Breslin Bar & Grill</span><br />
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<b>Style:</b> Steakhouse, Rotisserie, BBQ</div>
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<b>Address:</b> 3 Southbank Boulevard, Southbank [<a href="https://maps.google.com.au/maps?q=3+Southbank+Boulevard,+Southbank&hl=en&geocode=+&hnear=3+Southbank+Blvd,+Southbank+Victoria+3006&t=m&z=17" target="_blank">Google Maps</a>]</div>
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<b>Phone:</b> (03) 9455 8855</div>
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<b>Hours:</b> Lunch and dinner / 7 days</div>
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<b>Prices:</b> Starters $19 / Mains $20-40 / Tasting menu $80</div>
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<b>Bookings:</b> Accepted</div>
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<b>Website:</b> <a href="http://breslingrill.com.au/" target="_blank">http://breslingrill.com.au/</a></div>
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With its antler chandeliers, varnished surfaces and statement Laguiole cutlery, the Breslin Bar & Grill brings to Southbank a steakhouse with the look of a high-gloss hunting lodge. Billed as an ‘in your face’ temple where the carcass is consecrated, diners can choose from wood-fired steaks and ribs to sharing feasts that revolve around utilizing <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zhx_atF2c3s" target="_blank">every part of one magical animal</a>.<br />
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<span style="background-color: white;">In their first week of trade, the restaurant is doing a reasonable number of covers on the Monday night we visit, though with the noise and light level low, the atmosphere is rather serious and does not have much in common with the traditionally raucous New York steakhouse, from which the Breslin takes its inspiration. However, the chef has organized for us a menu showcasing the cuts from a Flinders Island lamb and the eating proves to be in the spirit of joyful, carnivorous abandon.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Shredded lamb neck croquettes w/ pepperonata salsa</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span>Shredded lamb neck croquettes fall apart beautifully beneath our forks and each mouthful reveals salty treasures within, including capers, olives and smooth goats cheese. The accompanying 2010 Alsace Gentil "Hugel" offers good body and a little spice, with the easy-drinking characteristics of pinot gris.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lamb burger sliders</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: white;">Across the entire table, lamb burger sliders are a hit. The pattie is exceptionally flavoursome and not at all dry, finished with sweet relish and a generous helping of thick tzatziki.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">12-hour braised lamb ribs w/ mint verde</td></tr>
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Unfortunately, a distinct lack of seasoning on the lamb ribs is very noticeable, after the things the lamb burger did to our mouths. The ribs are well cooked, with a satisfying distribution of fat, but the finish is too rich and we find ourselves wanting for citrus or gremolata, something to brighten up the taste of the meat. The mint sauce sounds as though it should work but it's unremarkable. We also note the lack of a finger bowl in which to dip our greasy digits.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pan fried lamb brains w/ salad of cos, green beans, peas, broad beans and truffle oil</td></tr>
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Upon arrival, I did note that our little menus made mention of an entrée of lamb brains and I took a breath: my last culinary frontier. In spite of having grown up happily chowing down on tongue, neck, cheek and liver, there is something about the notion of dining on brains that has always given me a headache, almost like psychic pain, leaving me with a desire to clutch at my scalp.<br />
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Verdict? A fellow diner likened the texture to pudding and he's not far off; it's very soft and yielding, while holding its shape. It practically melts away in my mouth, but nevertheless, I can't resist piling the salad of beans and peas in after it, to neutralize the sensation (the salad is delicate and pleasing in its own right, but as it turns out, the rest of the table is offended by the dish - not by virtue of the creamy little brains but the truffle oil).<br />
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I switch to merlot in readiness for the main course, a trio of Flinders Island lamb consisting of:<br />
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- Rotisserie saddle with anchovy and seeded mustard filling,<br />
- Leg of lamb deboned and flame cooked, and<br />
- Pink rack of lamb point.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Trio of Flinders Island lamb...</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...with luxurious jus, borlotti beans and baby potatoes</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: white;">Accompaniments include bitter greens, a marvellously buttery jus that I wish to swim in, fresh borlotti beans, very good herbed, baby potatoes and a selection of mustards, horseradish and sauces. This is a beautiful product that has been cooked flawlessly; the colour is enticingly pink and each part is tender and comforting to eat, everything you hope for with lamb.</span><br />
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Recognition that I am full has no bearing on my appetite for dessert. We presume we'll be seeing a quintessential New York cheesecake. Rather, the star of the sweets selection is a tall, enticing trifle, with oodles of rhubarb and vanilla custard, with a brûlée lid. You don't eat it so much as excavate for it with a long spoon and it's not the ideal dish for sharing, but we've grown comfortable with the feel-good food and no-one begrudges anybody else the mess they make as they obtain their share.<br />
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The bread and butter pudding is warm and gratifying, with ample dried fruit and a dollop of exceptional clotted cream. I also enjoy the plush carrot and walnut cake, though others are underwhelmed. When we attempt to section off the tart however, the pastry proves to be extremely hard and the lemon filling is too thick to be called curd.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lemon meringue tart and bread & butter pudding</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Carrot walnut cake w/ Chantilly cream and trifle</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: white;">The essential components are there, in spite of a few missteps. Our lamb menu was pleasurable and varied, with dishes that were at times flawless (slider, trio) and challenging (I still could not bring myself to order brains of my own volition).</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;">The Breslin is a welcome injection of personality to the Southbank dining precinct and I am hungry to see what they do with beef (hold the testicles).</span><br />
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<a href="http://www.urbanspoon.com/r/71/1704106/restaurant/Melbourne/Breslin-Bar-Grill-Southbank"><img alt="Breslin Bar & Grill on Urbanspoon" src="http://www.urbanspoon.com/b/link/1704106/biglink.gif" style="border: none; height: 146px; padding: 0px; width: 200px;" /></a>Plate Lickerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11040573412122698464noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1393070392493923175.post-91161845457634175052012-09-13T02:06:00.002-07:002012-09-13T02:12:07.591-07:00Lessons in vegetarianism from CroatiaHaving decimated the Greek dolmades population, I made for Croatia, where a rampage against the nation's culinary treats was high on the agenda. Diversity and quality though were not generally high and while the ćevapčići were tasty, the emphasis on minced meat, sausage and pizza made for a heavy heart (and stomach).<br />
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In Old Town Dubrovnik however, I found one of the best dining experiences of my trip, <a href="http://www.nishtarestaurant.com/" target="_blank">Nishta Vegetarian Restaurant</a> (food porn further down), which inspired this week's breakfast-dessert of wild rice, citrus, berries and creamy coconut.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lemon cardamom wild rice w/ yogurt, berry coulis, coconut and mint</td></tr>
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To make this yourself, you'll need:<br />
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<ul>
<li>100g Canadian wild rice</li>
<li>250ml light coconut milk</li>
<li>1 tsp palm sugar</li>
<li>2 tsp cardamom</li>
<li>1 tbsp lemon zest</li>
<li>Natural yogurt</li>
<li>Dessicated coconut</li>
<li>Fresh mint</li>
<li>Quantity of berry coulis</li>
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As far as the <b>coulis</b> is concerned, you could pull a Nigella and buy a very nice jar of St Dalfour preserves, or you can make it yourself by gently boiling 250g of mixed berries, 75g of castor sugar and 50ml of water and passing the mixture through a sieve (excess quantities will freeze well).<br />
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Rinse the <b>rice</b> and simmer over medium heat in <b>coconut milk</b> with <b>palm sugar</b>, <b>cardamom</b> and <b>lemon zest</b> for 40 minutes, stirring often. Keep tasting and add more palm sugar, cardamom and zest as necessary, as the desired strength of these elements is subjective. Turn out and top with a dollop of <b>natural yogurt</b>, lashings of <b>berry coulis</b>, a sprinkling of <b>coconut</b> and fresh <b>mint</b> leaves.<br />
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Nishta's food was so delicious and clean tasting that I made the unprecedented decision to return for dinner, having enjoyed my lunch so much. A mix of vegetarian, vegan, gluten-free and raw selections offer diversity of flavour, texture and ethnicity, with influences from Indian, Japanese, Mexican and Italian cuisine.<br />
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With the temperature climbing as high as 38°C, the raw zucchini "spaghetti" was refreshing and light. The zucchini quite effectively mimics pasta, with its neutral taste, boosted by a rich sauce of sundried tomatoes, dates, basil and olive oil. Diced tomato and basil leaves finish the dish. I wish to order it again but opt to try dessert instead.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Zucchini "spaghetti" w/ sundried tomato, date and basil sauce</td></tr>
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Cute and colourful rice noodle pudding arrives in its own jar, with spice, citrus and a thick topping of raspberry coulis, with fresh mint. I promptly make my dinner reservation.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rice noodle pudding w/ raspberry coulis and mint</td></tr>
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The steep landscape of the town have my quadriceps working over time and I am famished by the time dinner rolls around, an excellent excuse to go the full three-course set. I start with aromatic, unsweetened ginger ale, which has compelled me to try some at-home fermentation.<br />
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Caramelized tofu and pineapple skewers are firm, savoury and sweet, drizzled in smooth peanut sauce and served with quinoa salad of walnuts and coriander that is excellent in its own right.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XCjhlvRJWlE/UFCR1XFiBlI/AAAAAAAAAz4/vBQbH6OSTnA/s1600/tofuskewers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XCjhlvRJWlE/UFCR1XFiBlI/AAAAAAAAAz4/vBQbH6OSTnA/s1600/tofuskewers.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tofu skewers w/ peanut sauce and quinoa salad / House-made unsweetened ginger ale</td></tr>
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A thick ragu of grah seasoned with smoked seitan and mustard is hearty and rich, served alla parmigiana with grilled polenta.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-v-proEdvwwg/UFCR25FimjI/AAAAAAAAA0A/Vyp-Hb7NgsY/s1600/grah.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-v-proEdvwwg/UFCR25FimjI/AAAAAAAAA0A/Vyp-Hb7NgsY/s1600/grah.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bean and lentil grah w/ polenta triangles</td></tr>
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The density of the grah sees me taking a break before dessert - an elegant glass of figs macerated in dessert wine and topped with creamy cinnamon mascarpone strewn with tangy strands of candied orange zest and buttery biscuit pieces.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cinnamon mascarpone, figs macerated in dessert wine, candied orange zest, biscuit pieces</td></tr>
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Vegetarianism seems like such a challenge, until you experience possibilities like this. Outstanding.<br />
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Ginger fermentation experiments forthcoming...Plate Lickerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11040573412122698464noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1393070392493923175.post-83285237270793321692012-08-14T13:30:00.000-07:002013-05-08T07:44:17.074-07:00Diversity in the tajine pool<span lang="E"><span lang="E"><span lang="E"><strong>July 29, 2012</strong></span></span></span><br />
<span lang="E"><span lang="E">Marrakech Airport is something of an administrative obstacle course between running the gauntlet of customs, having your documents checked again, swapping EUROs for dirhams and tracking down your luggage (lonesome on the floor by the conveyor belt, looking like a security risk).</span></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beef tajine @ Les Jardins de Ouarzazate</td></tr>
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<span lang="E"><span lang="E"><span lang="E">Racing toward the city, we're flanked on all sides by donkeys, motorbikes, old Mercedes and olive trees. The red housing spans the horizon but there is no high-rise; I learn later that the tallest structure in the city is the 12th century Koutoubia Mosque and it is decreed that nothing be built any higher than its four-tier, golden minuret. The city walls span 26 kilometres through which, as with the Old City of Jerusalem, there are a number of entrances, each with their own name, determined by their purpose. For instance, the "Door of Leather" refers to where one could find the tanneries (as opposed to the Marrakech fetish scene, presumably).</span></span></span><br />
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An outing to the medina is unexpectedly exhausting, in that one must be on their guard at all times. We are mercilessly harassed by vendors and men but we ignore them and keep walking. The market alleys are winding, bustling and colourful, with baked goods, tajine cookers, tea sets, traditional clothing, Moroccan furniture and a fabulously ornate bathtub for sale. We're dodging donkeys, bikes and the surge of locals, having just flooded the streets at the end of afternoon prayer, when we decide to return to the square. I buy a delicious mix of dates, apricots and nuts slathered in honey and sesame seeds, as well as a drink from one of the dozens of fresh orange juice stands. It's ice cold and a mere 4dh; it may also have crack in it, as I find it addictive.<br />
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As the afternoon wears on, snake charmers and monkeys emerge, the latter doing flips and chasing tourists as far as their leashes will allow. I've no interest in paying for such "entertainment," owing to some awareness of what those animals are subjected to.<br />
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The urgent persistence of some of the vendors and their unabashed resent and verbal abuse when one politely declines an invitation to browse their wares is indicative of a market that cannot accommodate luxuries like basic respect. There may be an assumption that as Westerners who can afford to travel, likewise, we surely have money to burn. And if you have little, there is little distinction to be made between those who are simply comfortable and those who are rich. Perhaps there is no actual distinction whatsoever, if the salient point is a sense of freedom. Irrespective of the dollar value, an accumulation of wealth is a cornerstone of having agency: it means choice, not having to depend on others, security. It means fewer limits. It is the difference between a dream and a boarding pass. Accordingly, I did not respond any time we were insulted (happily, this attitude is not one I've encountered outside of Marrakech thus far).<br />
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The onset of night brought the relief of cool air and a meal of soup with with harissa and chicken tajine spiked with turmeric, cumin and cardamom.</div>
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In the morning, we enjoyed chocolate croissants for breakfast (a remnant of the French occupation of 1912-56) and set off for Ouarzazate.<br />
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We pass the Marrakech-equivalent of Melbourne's Docklands - government built suburbs that appear empty; red ghost towns. We climb as high as 2,500 metres in the Atlas Mountains and stop for "Berber whiskey" - freshly brewed mint tea ("All delicious, no headache!"). Ouarzazate turns out to be very cosmopolitan, owing to its position as a premier shooting location for Hollywood, with two film studios, a film school, outdoor sets and more infrastructure than Marrakech appears to have (shoots include <em>Kundun, Kingdom of Heaven</em>, <em>Gladiator, The Hills Have Eyes </em>and <em>The Last Temptation of Christ</em>). The temperature is soaring by the time we reach Les Jardins de Ouarzazate and while there is no humidity to complain about, a swim is a priority. We lunch on divinely fresh, crunchy salads - grated carrot, rice, Spanish onion, potato salad, capsicum - and a superb beef tajine; I am positively drooling all over myself as I savour the richness of the sauce, set against the sweet, mollassassey prunes.<br />
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<span lang="E">Unfortunately, the Valley of the Roses is devoid of said flowerings at this time of the year. Rose products are the predominant souvenir at our rest stop, as well as Morocco snowglobes. Granted, it does snow in the high Atlas Mountains but icicles and sleet will not be the things that evoke memories of northern Africa once I am back home.</span></span></span></span><span lang="E"><span lang="E"><span lang="E"><span lang="E"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span lang="E">Near to our hotel in the Todra Gorge, the mountain faces take on strange new forms, of massive, rounded boulders heaped on top of one another, slanting diagnolly. In the sunset light, the shadows stretch out and the crevices appear to deepen, for a landscape that is at once majestic and haunting.</span></div>
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<span lang="E">We enjoy the balcony extending from our room before showering and changing for dinner. The meal consists of thicky, meaty soup, chicken and lamb skewers hiding beneath French fries and vegetable cous-cous with fragrant chicken. To our surprise, the menu makes provisions for alcoholic beverages and A, N and I each order half bottles of rosé. We see out the evening with tea on the verandah, discussing travel, photography and proposed venues for a hammam once we return to Marrakech. I sleep the sleep of the comatose.</span><br />
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<strong>July 30, </strong><strong>2012</strong><br />
</span></span></span></span></span><span lang="E"><span lang="E"><span lang="E">I am PUMPED to find the local equivalent of pancakes at breakfast. Closer to roti, with berry preserve and Laughing Cow cheese, they make for potent fuel for the day ahead. We check into another beautiful hotel, with a brightly-coloured pool area, the blues, golds and green of the trellis juxtaposed against the looming, red mountains.</span></span></span><br />
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<span lang="E"><span lang="E">Remember those Looney Tunes cartoons depicting the protagonist lost in the desert? He inevitably finds himself taunted by a persistent mirage: an oasis, emerging amongst the dunes, all bent palm trees and a perfect mirror of a lake. It is even more of a mirage than I'd guessed, for today we hiked a real oasis and found it to be the perfect encapsulation of 'tranquil agility test.'</span></span><br />
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<span lang="E"><span lang="E">We traversed the rocky riverbank, through and over undergrowth of bamboo, date and fig trees and white and purple flowering plants, scattered with darting, miniscule frogs. I was muddied and sweaty by the time we reached the kasbah. I felt like a furnace, like I'd swallowed the roughness of the landscape and my insides were coated in the dust we'd stirred up and breathed in, and I liked it. I was ravenous, however. We'd obtained canine company on the trek and when I turned a corner of the kasbah, there was one of the dogs, facing forward but with his head turned back towards me, as if to say, "Come on, slowpoke, it's this way."</span></span><br />
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<span lang="E">Inside, we are welcomed warmly, our host sheathed in a royal blue tunic with yellow detail and a turban. He graciously asks that we remove our shoes and seats us in a room lined with handmade Berber carpets. We are grateful for another refreshing salad platter, this time consisting of two kinds of olives, carrot, cucumber and a Moroccan take on salsa. Our main course is an alternative interpretation of tajine, chiefly made with eggs, tomatoes, onions and spices. It resembles an omlette and while it lacks the bold savouriness of yesterday's beef variant, it is light and very easy to eat considering the weather.</span><br />
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<span lang="E">Our hosts make fresh mint tea for us, memorable by virtue of the phallic mound of sugar used to sweeten the brew. They explain to us the workings of the carpet co-operative and then fit us with richly-coloured scarves shaped into turbans in readiness for our time in the Sahara, commencing tomorrow.</span><br />
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<span lang="E">On the way back to the hotel, we take a walk through a section of the gorge, where hundreds of locals are cooling off in the river. Most barely notice us but the ones that do smile warmly and converse with us <em>en Francais</em>.</span><br />
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<span lang="E">We always eat late, owing to the locals not preparing dinner until after sundown, in line with their observance of Ramadan, but I am not perturbed. We are always fed so well; the food is rustic and made from good produce and any chance of scaling back my gluttony seems remote.<br />
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<span lang="E"><strong>August 1st, 2012</strong><br />
<span lang="E">I found the isolation I was looking for, last night in the desert. I wandered away from the dune boarding contingent, to where it was silent, save for the sound of the wind whistling through my headscarf. The sand beneath my feet was not yellow like that at home; this was red, fine and shaped by the wind into uniform ridges. The sun was about to set but the moon was already high and I savoured the pleasure of having made it to this place. I thought of my luck, being here, about to sleep in the cool evening air of the Sahara and yet, that that luck was of my own making. I thought of Zaida, wondering if after all he'd been through, he could have imagined that his offspring would have such freedom, that the world would open up before them and that there'd be virtually no limits on how far we might venture and what sort of life we might live.</span></span></span><br />
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<span lang="E">On Monday evening, we dined beneath the leafy trellis by the pool, the Atlas Mountains rising ominously around us, silhouetted by the moonlight. A starter of tomato soup is unremarkable, but the kefte - spiced meatballs in slow simmered tomatoes - were succulent, sweet and enriched with the texture of the boiled egg halves on top. Sadly, the sweet vanilla yogurt dessert cloaks bananas so I overdosed on peanuts instead, with freshly brewed mint tea.</span><br />
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<span lang="E">We linger over breakfast of bread, eggs, creamy, shaved butter, fresh orange juice, preserves and viscous, floral-flavoured honey. You know you're on an overland trip when 9.00am qualifies as a late start.</span></span></span></span></span><br />
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At our second rest stop, I write a postcard, making mention of The Tea Party being my preferred soundtrack as we race through Morocco (although anything is a relief after having Pete Murray inficted on me). We reach Kasbah Ennasra after midday, another breathtaking hotel of yellow and red tiles, tree-lined, open-air hallways, wrought iron furnishings inlaid with marble and colourful upholstery and accents of dark wood, purple linen and ornate mirrors. The dining room overlooks another glamorous pool area, a blaze of turquoise.<br />
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<span lang="E">Our multi-course lunch opens with plush bread, like brioche; I am hard-pressed to limit myself to one piece, dipping it into the pale olive oil on the table. Thankfully, I do, as we're then presented with tea, a warm plate of ratatouille, rice, orange slices and olives and in quick succession, triangles of bread filled with softened onions and lamb cooked in cumin, coriander and a little chilli. For main course, spiced chicken, potato salad and cucumber slices. Everything is good and clean-tasting. Dessert is outstanding - smooth creme caramel with sauce exhibiting that characteristic just-burnt taste.</span><br />
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A couple of hours of off-road driving later, we spy our caravan of camels in the distance. I realize that although the headscarf turbans did make for a worthwhile exercise in mugging for the camera, they are an indispensable practicality. The wind carries the sand all around us and the scarf keeps it out of my hair and off of my face. It is then for us to choose a camel by standing next to it. They're peaceful animals, for the most part. Some wail loudly for no apparent reason, sounding like Chewbacca. I elect a tall, white camel and I deliberate over nicknames, sorry that I am unfamiliar with any great African philosophers to call him after, settling on Sir Humps A Lot.<br />
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<span lang="E">On the ride, I'm struck by the desert's vastness, inhospitability and silence. The presence of tourists notwithstanding, it seems lonely and I imagine how threatening such a landcape would have been in the days prior to GPS and dehydrated food. My mental meanderings are interrupted whenever our camels take a steep step downwards and I lean back, clinging determinedly to the saddle. The clouds behind me are ablaze with the beams of the setting sun.</span><span lang="E"><br />
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<span lang="E">At the camp, we dune board and dine on olives with chilli and preserved lemon, peanuts, popcorn (which is both puzzling and welcome), another variant on ratatouille, with rice, lamb skewers that are satisfyingly charred and an onion-heavy tajine.</span><br />
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The bathroom at the end of the camp is something that a great many hostels and music festivals should aspire to - not only is it a flushing, Western model, but it is clean and not bereft of toilet paper. I pick a mattress out of a tent, but I only join in with the music-making by the fire briefly, as fatigue has me overcome. I lie down, keen to do some writing by the ample moonlight, but tiredness dissuades me and I fall asleep quickly.When I wake in the middle of the night, there is no sound whatsoever and I feel as though I am on an island out in space, disconnected from the world.<br />
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<span style="line-height: 121%; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: 굴림;">We're awoken at 5:00am and ride our camels out to watch the sunrise between
two enormous dunes. Daylight floods the sky rapidly and we ride on to
breakfast. I switch on my music, riding high through the desert to the frenetic
ministrations of Metallica, Rammstein, Rage Against the Machine and In Living
Colour.</span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 121%; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: 굴림;">On the drive back to Ouarzazate, we pass tiered gorges and a variety of
towering rock formations, including a distinctive protrusion resembling the
back of a stegosaurus, as well as an expired donkey. I consider the harshness
and exoticism of the surrounding land and I ruminate over the possibiity that I
am one of many tourists "playing desert" - approaching adventure but
stopping just short and being coddled through a veritable "Morroco Theme
Park" by the local guides. What, however, do I expect? Would I feel closer
to the brink of authenticity if we'd inadvertently found ourselves driving side
by side with members of the local gun running syndicate? I have loved the food
and experiences so far, but when people remark on how far flung and dangerous
some of my travel is, I'm compelled to clarify that it's low-risk and I can't
really be considered brave or intrepid. I did have my anxieties prior to the
trip and specifically about Morocco, but now that I am here, I am informed and
I know how safe it is (realizing of course that "safe" is subjective;
Ibrahim suggested we recommend the trip to DFAT personnel so that they might
downgrade their warnings against Morocco). The conditions are challenging and
the heat alone would put many off. However, even though I am essentially a
morbid gothophile with a fetish for winter and a phobia of the beach, I love
and have hungered for red soil on my insides, in the air I breathe, sweat and
traditional music sounding through the city, alien rituals that remind me that
people everywhere are striving to live a meaningful life, feel connected to
something, come to terms with death and find wisdom, love, solace.</span><br />
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<span style="line-height: 121%; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: 굴림;">Dinner back at Les Jardins de Ouarzazate includes another bountiful spread
of salad, chicken tajine with peas, beef tajine with root vegetables, warm,
sultana-topped cous-cous and syrup-filled crepes. Rapturous! I digest by the
pool with V, while Ibrahim, N and A swim, the latter two gradually
finishing their warm wine. I assist with the last drops and proceed to launch myself at my bed.</span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 121%; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: 굴림;"><strong>August 4, 2012</strong></span><span style="line-height: 121%; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 121%; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: 굴림;">On Thursday morning , I get my fill of soil as a group of us go quadbiking
through the rough landscape of Ouarzazate. We commence near the film sets for
<em>Kingdom of Heaven</em>, <em>Prince of Persia</em> and <em>The Hills Have Eyes</em>, rounding through
agricultural plots, down rocky slopes and through residential areas. The
experience gave me a taste of why people are passionate about motorbikes.
Having washed off thick coatings of dust and changed, I felt considerably
fresher...until I set foot outside. At a rest stop, I demolish coconut yogurt,
pineapple-coconut juice (the nearest thing to a cocktail so far), muesli
biscuits and water.</span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 121%; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: 굴림;">We arrive at Ait Benhaddou, a colossal, fortified city
clinging to the side of a mountain, with a rainbow coloured rockface. Ibrahim
explains the city's history as a stopover on the caravan route from Sahara to
Marrakech, when the latter was the nation's capital. At the peak is a lone
communal house - an "agadir" - used to store the village's valuable,
encouraging unified defense in the event of attack (where kasbahs only
facilitated for individual defense). The grandest of the city gates turns out to
be a modern addition, built for the filming of <em>Gladiator</em>.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Argan oil co-operative</td></tr>
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<span style="line-height: 121%; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: 굴림;">Back in Marrakech, the sky is sufficiently overcast that I can look
directly at the sun as it sets, burning through the haze. Owing to several late
nights and early starts, I take the opportunity to flop on to my bed and do
nothing. Just before 8:00pm, the sirens sound, signalling sunset and the end of
the day's fast. We make our way to the square, which is bustling with activity.
Ibrahim and Mustafa wave us over to stall #117 and we sit at a single, long
table, amidst the din of singing cooks, piles of tomatoes, olives and eggplant,
roaming dessert carts loaded with sticky sweets, snake charmers, vendors
brewing coffee and steam rising from the streets. Incredibly, it begins to
rain, but only momentarily - Ibrahim informs us that annual rainfall does not
exceed 15mm.</span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 121%; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: 굴림;">Waiters clamour through wall-to-wall diners with fresh orange juice. We
enjoy Moroccan salad - plump tomatoes with Spanish onion, flat-leaf parsley and
spices - potato croquettes, creamy, chargrilled eggplant, skewers of lamb,
chicken and vegetables, some diabolical chips and mixed calamari and prawns
with fresh lime, which I suck the juice out of.</span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 121%; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: 굴림;">After dinner, I wander the
souks with the girls but V and I are tired and doubly exhausted by the
markets and mandatory haggling. Crucially, I just cannot get excited about
counterfeit handbags and ugly shoes, no matter how low the price is. The
replica Hermes bags look especially cheap and simply scream Aspirational
Fantasy of the Unwashed. Why the obsession with junk consumer goods that
masquerade as having prestige? From where does this desire to accumulate
useless trinkets spring? The markets sell everything from baby clothes to
oversized furniture and most of that which is on offer is unremarkable and
could be found at Chadstone Shopping Centre. I didn't need any of it and there
was little to be found that had some unique connection to the city or its local
artisans. </span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 121%; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: 굴림;">We rose early for a city tour with guide Mustafa, meeting in
glossy Gueliz and making for the main mosque. On the back of a run-down on the
mosque's history, M and I engage in a lively discussion about religion.
She tells me she supports the ban on the headscarf in her native France, on the
grounds of security and women's suffrage. I am uncertain of my position; I
recognise the merit of her points, but I take issue with the notion that it is
for the government to decide what we can and cannot wear and penalize us
accordingly. It also seems to be an inversion of feminism; if we can agree that
women are masters of themselves, who are we to turn that on its head and assume
that women donning the hijab are being coerced? Can't the same argument be made
about the usual suspects in Western society - cosmetics, high heels, breast
implants? It seems that when it comes to choice and freedom of expression, to
do so within the sphere of capitalism goes unquestioned; how an individual opts
to spend their money is their business. If they've been subjected to
manipulation by advertising, their actions are still considered to be driven by
choice. Yet, religious coercion is subject to legislation, ignoring the agency
that democracy grants in how people choose to observe their faith. I'm trying
to envisage an attempt by a government to legislate the wearing of the crucifix
and I cannot.</span><span style="line-height: 121%; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 121%; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: 굴림;">How does a society rationally and humanely discern who is truly making a
choice and who is a victim of circumstance and oppression? Worse, the state
relies on the effectiveness of spin and propaganda so that the citizenry is
persuaded to support divisive policy, so how exactly are we supposed to take
seriously attempts to rein in coercive religious practises? Obviously I'd
benefit from sitting down with Chomsky's "Manufacturing Consent" when
I am home...</span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 121%; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: 굴림;">Still on religion, I query Mustafa as to whether or not the French
attempted to impose religion the populace during the occupation.
"No," he tells me - in fact, the French were very sensitive to the
local religious customs and what they did bring with them, the lingua Franca,
administrative systems and infrastructure, the Moroccans were grateful for,
lest they still be living in the Dark Ages, as Mustafa put it.</span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 121%; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: 굴림;">We then visit Palais Bahia, aka the Sultan's Pussy Palace - a fuck pad
masquerading as an administrative hub. As fuck pads go, it's unassuming from
the outside but inside is the stuff of all my Moroccan interior decorating
fantasies.</span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 121%; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: 굴림;">The centre courtyard is framed by intricately carved columns and
doorways, laid with tiles and exploding with flowering ginger plants and orange
trees. The opulent interiors feature ceilings painted in florals, set off by
ornate light fittings and an imposing fireplace. A second courtyard is all
white, blinding in the midday sun. Through the passages, Mustafa leads us to
the main entertaining quarter, with a dining room, a raised area for
(blindfolded) musicians and a small "sleeping" area, where the sultan
would retire with a wife/concubine in succession. "Guy sounds like a
pig," D astutely points out.</span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 121%; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: 굴림;">Back in the market, we visit Epices Arenzoar, suppliers of tea, spices,
herbal remedies, lotions and potions. We're offered smells and samples of ras
el hanout, Nigella seeds, rose cream, almond cream, amber and jasmine oil,
surely smelling like aggressive pot-pourri by the time we emerge. The cheerful
shopkeeper regrets he's unable to offer us an experience of the virility
treatment - "Ramadan, you know." I buy a pack of their ras el hanout,
keen to cook many a Moroccan dish back home.</span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 121%; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: 굴림;">It is 1:00pm and with the mercury up to 48, we retreat for our pre-arranged
hammam. After a foot treatment, we're sent down to the darkened hammam waiting
room, all red and gold-lit, with dark wood lockers inlaid with red stones
lining the walls. We strip and are led through to the washroom for an initial
bucketing with warm water and then to the suffocatingly steamy hammam. With our
pores as wide open as the Todra Gorge, we're asked back to the adjoining
washroom for a light scrub and a coating of mud, before being returned to the
hammam to marinate. It's too much for D, who calls out pre-emptively to say
she's had enough; chicken is done, as it were. I suck it up but the cool shower
afterwards brings exhalation and relief, as well as a shampoo that leaves my
hair feeling like something better than straw for the first time all week. I'm
wrapped in a white robe and deposited in the waiting room with a glass of fresh
mint tea, so relaxed I might melt into a puddle. I join C in the circular, upstairs lounge,
all cushions and comfort, for another cup of tea. At last I feel less like a
sweaty, desert hog and more like a polished, African princess (skeptical as I
am of these treatments having any real effect, my skin does feel
velvet-y).</span><br />
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On the way "home," some misguided vendor thinks the way to encourage us to buy water is to throw it over us. I exclaim angrily but my electronics are fine so he escapes further admonishment. At the hotel, we have our last meeting with Ibrahim and Mustafa, who've organised a delicious, triple mousse birthday cake with tempered chocolate for N (as well as lacquered, wooden camel souvenirs for us all).</div>
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Plate Lickerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11040573412122698464noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1393070392493923175.post-26789140385286321082012-07-16T09:51:00.001-07:002012-07-16T10:13:35.511-07:00The water of life (hint: it's not H2O)<b style="background-color: white;">Venue:</b><span style="background-color: white;"> Eau De Vie</span><br />
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<b>Style:</b> Mediterranean, European share plates / Cocktails</div>
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<b>Address:</b> 233 Chapel Street, Prahran [<a href="https://maps.google.com/maps?q=eau+de+vie,+233+Chapel+Street,+Prahran&hq=eau+de+vie,&hnear=233+Chapel+St,+Prahran+Victoria+3181,+Australia&t=m&z=16" target="_blank">Google Maps</a>]</div>
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<b>Phone:</b> (03) 9510 0955</div>
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<b>Hours:</b> Mon, Tue & Sun 8.00am - 5.00pm / Wed-Sat 8.00am - 10.30pm</div>
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<b>Prices:</b> Share plates $4-35 / Desserts $15 / Tasting menu $55</div>
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<b>Bookings:</b> Accepted</div>
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<b>Website:</b> <a href="http://www.facebook.com/pages/Eau-De-Vie/114158145317704?sk=wall" target="_blank">On Facebook</a></div>
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The modern restaurant is as much a centre of theatrics as it is concerned with sustenance, if not more so. <span style="background-color: white;">Across contemporary society, </span><span style="background-color: white;">restaurants are the staging ground for artisans of cooking. We've abandoned the circus for the dining room, for high-wire acts featuring custard and elderberry essence, where exotic animals no longer have to jump through hoops for our amusement, so long as they're content being vacuum-packed and cooked sous-vide.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;">Eating houses can be traced back to antiquity, where they were chiefly aimed at the hungry traveller. Correspondingly, <i>restaurant</i> is derived from French, </span><span style="background-color: white;"><i>restaurer</i>, meaning "to restore."</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;">Wayward travellers traversing the divide between glossy South Yarra and off-beat Windsor are encouraged to visit Eau De Vie. The "water of life" to be found here is not the perfunctory, hydrating variety, but that which provides <a href="http://www.scientificamerican.com/article.cfm?id=can-money-buy-happiness" target="_blank">the kind of nourishment that empirical research indicates is key to meaningful, sustained happiness</a>: engagement of the senses, pleasure, good company and </span><span style="background-color: white;">irreverence.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Distressed delight (Photo credit: Lachlan Downing - Down the Lens Photography)</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Where the liquor selection is a highlight (Photo credit: Lachlan Downing - Down the Lens Photography)</span></td></tr>
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When the lights go down, Eau De Vie reverts from smart brunch venue to seductive cocktail bar, with a generous tapas menu (a misnomer, in that the rotating options traverse Spain as well as Italy, France and the deep American South). Private tables are conducive for intimate conversation, but the L-shaped bar is the best seat in the house, <span style="background-color: white;">it affording conversation with fellow diners and members of staff, </span><span style="background-color: white;">a view of the chefs at work and proximity to Dimitri, a mixologist of great character.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Menus (Photo credit: Lachlan Downing - Down the Lens Photography)</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Cocktail list</span></td></tr>
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My Key Lime Pie cocktail is just as I'd hoped: a sharp, acidic punch and a creamy finish. It reminded me of my commitment to make up a deconstructed key lime pie mousse, once Nic and I lock down our Deep South cook-off.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Key Lime Pie cocktail (Photo credit: Lachlan Downing - Down the Lens Photography)</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Jalapeño poppers (Photo credit: Lachlan Downing - Down the Lens Photography)</span></td></tr>
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Gentlemen, start your salivary glands. Jalapeño poppers ($4 each) stuffed with ricotta, sherry-soaked raisins, mint and lemon served on whipped sheepskin yogurt make for good drinking food, although my dining companion and I would have liked them to be hotter. I can't detect much mint or lemon, but the milky, smooth yogurt is very pleasant.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Oxtail croquettes (Photo credit: Lachlan Downing - Down the Lens Photography)</span></td></tr>
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Braised oxtail croquettes are also good, with the meat inside tearing away from itself in its trademark, provocative manner. The touch of house-made hot mustard adds welcome heat, but the the celeriac remoulade is the surprising show-stealer, sliced into long, elegant ribbons dressed in seeded mustard.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Kingfish, edible garden (Photo credit: Lachlan Downing - Down the Lens Photography)</span></td></tr>
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The next course proves to be as much a dish for the eyes as the mouth. I was not affected by this item as it reads on the menu, but it proved to be the best thing that we ate. Tender, lemon and beetroot salted kingfish is dressed with shallots macerated in 12y.o. white balsamic and finished with edible flowers. The dish is affecting in its cleanliness on the palate, whilst being very fragrant.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Jambalaya (Photo credit: Lachlan Downing - Down the Lens Photography)</span></td></tr>
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Moor-style Jambalaya is turned out in a hearty serving with slices of chorizo, fresh seafood and fruit (pomegranate this time; fig, quince and smoked pear when in season). I'm slightly disappointed that the dish features only a solitary prawn and a pepper, as I started hunting through the rice for more "treasure" (my approach is the same with Chinese glutinous rice). The chorizo, mint and pomegranate add bites of savoury flavour, freshness and tartness, however I would have enjoyed the rice more with bolder Creole characteristics.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Chocolate, cherries, peanuts</span></td></tr>
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The chef comes past for a chat and asks if we're considering dessert (duh). He describes the sweets on offer, with the pear option sounding provocative and high-concept. After he returns to the kitchen, Dimitri cajoles us into ordering the chocolate, not because it is a weak dish but it will rankle the chef that yet another customer has ordered another chocolate dessert. Pranks aside, the chocolate fondant is outstanding, easily rivalling desserts I've tried at <a href="http://platelickermelb.blogspot.com.au/2012/04/because-one-of-everything-will-do.html" target="_blank">Cutler & Co</a> and <a href="http://www.theeuropean.com.au/" target="_blank">The European</a>. Served molten in its cast-iron dish, the fondant has texture and good mouth-feel yet, with chunks of peanut brittle, cherries doused in horseradish, thyme and kirsch and a welcome dollop of clotted cream. Glasses of Pedro Ximenez sherry complete this picture of decadence, which we sip slowly, making conversation between ourselves and with staff into the night.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Sated...for now (Photo credit: Lachlan Downing - Down the Lens Photography)</span></td></tr>
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Never mind your eight glasses of water a day. It is in places like this that I find myself restored.<br />
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<a href="http://www.urbanspoon.com/r/71/1560757/restaurant/Melbourne/Eau-de-Vie-Prahran"><img alt="Eau de Vie on Urbanspoon" src="http://www.urbanspoon.com/b/link/1560757/biglink.gif" style="border: none; height: 146px; padding: 0px; width: 200px;" /></a>Plate Lickerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11040573412122698464noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1393070392493923175.post-52167921671474080662012-07-06T00:03:00.001-07:002012-07-06T00:52:43.337-07:00The Magic (lemon, cardamom, kamut) Pudding<b style="background-color: white;">Venue:</b><span style="background-color: white;"> Pierre Roelof's Dessert Evenings @ Café Rosamond</span><br />
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<b>Style:</b> Dessert degustation, modern, experimental</div>
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<b>Address:</b> Rear, 191 Smith Street, Fitzroy [<a href="https://maps.google.com/maps?q=cafe+rosamond,+191+smith+st,+fitzroy&hq=cafe+rosamond,+191+smith+st,+fitzroy&radius=15000&t=m&z=16&iwloc=A" target="_blank">Google Maps</a>]</div>
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<b>Phone:</b> (03) 9419 2270</div>
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<b>Hours:</b> Thu only 7.00pm - 11.00pm</div>
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<b>Prices:</b> 3 dessert courses + dessert tube $50 (sets of 1-, 2- or 3- dessert courses available for about $10 each, tubes $9)</div>
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<b>Bookings:</b> Not accepted, line up no later than 6.15pm if keen</div>
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<b>Website:</b> <a href="http://www.pierreroelofs.com/">http://www.pierreroelofs.com/</a></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">All you really need to know about Pierre Roelof's skill with sweets</span></td></tr>
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Norman Lindsay, in his eponymous tale about a pudding that regenerates itself each time it is eaten, describes it as being made from onions, bunion, corns and crabs, among other things. After an evening with Pierre Roelof's cardamom, kamut, lemon and salted caramel creation, I am left in no uncertain terms regarding the specifications of my would-be everlasting dessert, should the Arnott's Tim Tam genie ever materialize in my living room.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Café Rosamond</span></td></tr>
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Each Thursday night from 6.00pm, a queue begins to form down Charles Street, in anticipation of a seat for the dessert degustation in the small, cosy space of Café Rosamond. After two years, the weekly dessert event is still in high enough demand that simply showing up after opening and expecting a turn at sugary alchemy will lead to rich, creamy disappointment.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Cosy</span></td></tr>
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First up is the amuse-bouche, a tube full of jaffa cake. Our waitress asks that we dip our tubes into the accompanying beaker of hot water for two seconds, withdraw and suck as hard as we can. The cake rapidly achieves escape velocity and registers in my mouth as a bold chocolate orange flavour with the texture of custard. Watching the reactions of other diners "eating" their dessert tubes is worthwhile.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Dessert tube: Jaffa cake</span></td></tr>
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Our first dessert course consists of light milk chocolate mousse, dried rose petals, rose Turkish delight cubes and a scattering of toasted quinoa. The perfume of the flavours remains even after each of us has licked up every last morsel (except for Tych, who is too classy for the rest of our motley crew and insisted on using his fingers only).<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Course #1: Rose, milk chocolate, quinoa</span></td></tr>
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Our next course is less pretty but more substantial. Weighty tumblers are placed in front of us, with individual layers of salted caramel sauce, lemon curd, vanilla pannacotta, cardamon meringue, lemon foam and cardamom-spiced kamut. I attempt to try each element individually, but Tych cajols me into plunging my spoon all the way down and capturing each part into one glorious spoonful.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Course #2: Cardamom kamut, lemon foam, cardamom meringue, vanilla pannacotta, salted caramel</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Excavating for viscous lemon curd and salted caramel sauce</span></td></tr>
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You will forgive me for the blurriness of the photo. While I did want to capture the viscosity of the lemon curd and salted caramel at the bottom, I was in a hurry to get back to a dessert so wonderful, I had to give consideration to the possibility that my g-spot is in fact located in my mouth.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Course #3: Chicory, custard, raspberry</span></td></tr>
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The final course showcases Pierre's adeptness for sculpture, as well as flavour. The chicory, custard, raspberry course is supported by creamy raspberry cheesecake, vanilla custard, crunchy crumble, berry marshmallow and droplets of chicory mousse.<br />
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If you've a taste for surprise, as well as dessert, don't put off visiting <span style="background-color: white;">Café Rosamond on a Thursday evening. One member of our group, who joined us at the last minute, was the first to ask our waitress how often the menu rotates (monthly) and can we go again?</span><br />
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<a href="http://www.urbanspoon.com/r/71/760349/restaurant/Melbourne/Collingwood/Cafe-Rosamond-Fitzroy"><img alt="Café Rosamond on Urbanspoon" src="http://www.urbanspoon.com/b/link/760349/biglink.gif" style="border: none; height: 146px; padding: 0px; width: 200px;" /></a>Plate Lickerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11040573412122698464noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1393070392493923175.post-41627692604194018852012-05-09T11:28:00.000-07:002012-05-09T18:05:23.368-07:00A Pub with No Quandongs<b>Venue:</b> Attica<br />
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<b>Style:</b> Modern Australian, think Bush Tucker Man with Michelin stars</div>
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<b>Address:</b> 74 Glen Eira Road, Ripponlea [<a href="http://maps.google.com.au/maps?q=attica&ll=-37.876395,144.997323&spn=0.009366,0.021136&fb=1&gl=au&hq=attica&hnear=0x6ad646b5d2ba4df7:0x4045675218ccd90,Melbourne,+VIC&cid=0,0,1021037337369925873&t=m&z=16&iwloc=A" target="_blank">Google Maps</a>]</div>
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<b>Phone:</b> (03) 9530 0111</div>
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<b>Hours:</b> Tue-Sat 6:30pm - late</div>
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<b>Prices:</b> 5-course Chef's Table $95 (Tue only) / 5-course degustation $125 / 8-course degustation $175</div>
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<b>Bookings:</b> Required</div>
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<b>Website:</b> <a href="http://www.attica.com.au/" target="_blank">http://www.attica.com.au/</a></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Decorative quandongs, surrounded on all sides</span></td></tr>
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A distinctive cuisine of its own is not something Australia is known for. We owe this to being colonized by the British, an empire more adept at imperialism than breakfast, whose botanists declared in the 19th century that while the newly discovered native flora were "eatable," they were not in fact "fit to eat." Until recently, the view that Australian food plants were not palatable went unchallenged, which is particularly tragic if your name was Burke or Wills.<br />
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In 2010, Denmark's <a href="http://www.noma.dk/main.php?lang=en" target="_blank">Noma</a> was named the world's best restaurant and chef René Redzepi's emphasis on cooking characterized by local, natural produce marked a transition away from molecular gastronomy and towards foraging. Out with the alchemists, in with Bear Grylls.<br />
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A meal at Attica should be prefaced with context for what is having an impact on the global dining scene at present. The establishment has been awarded a place on the <a href="http://www.theworlds50best.com/" target="_blank">S.Pellegrino World's Best Restaurants list</a> for three years in a row now, but what does this designation actually mean to adventurous gluttons like myself (damned if I'll be drawn into a dissection of the subjectivity of superlatives)? This achievement is what compelled two sets of dining companions to visit, one of whom joined us from overseas. And while the two tasting menus I tried over the past six months polarized opinions at the table on both occasions, our overseas guest certainly experienced something that he could not find back home (where he'll just have to slum it at <a href="http://www.alinea-restaurant.com/" target="_blank">Alinea</a>) - distinctive, Australian ingredients demonstrating that we have a rich palate of local flavours to play with.<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wB8JWZ3KpmU/T4-y7w_ZzxI/AAAAAAAAAYw/hROViE_Xn-A/s512/2_MenuDec.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="1" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wB8JWZ3KpmU/T4-y7w_ZzxI/AAAAAAAAAYw/hROViE_Xn-A/s1600/2_MenuDec.jpg" /></a></div>
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Service is polished but quite easily becomes loose and conversational as our waiter explains the menu to us, while we enjoy thick-cut, fresh sourdough, rich cultured butter and a light, emulsified oil spread sprinkled with mountain pepper. On both visits, someone asks if the quandong table setting is edible (no).<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Emulsified oil w/ mountain pepper, salt, cultured butter (Photo credit: Ed Brill)</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Emulsified oil w/ mountain pepper, cultured butter, rye sourdough</td></tr>
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An array of amuse bouche starters run the gamut from bewildering to delightful. There is too little walnut purée, served in walnut shells, to make an impression, but seasonal asparagus with wattleseed candy is snap-fresh and sweet. Local mussels flash fried and served with sea succulents appear at both meals, but with more fanfare the second time by way of an alarmingly-painted shell.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Walnut amuse bouche</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Asparagus w/ wattle seed candy amuse bouche</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Shell-shocked</td></tr>
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While in December, the snow crab course was included in our menu, more recently it was offered as an optional supplement. If offered, "No, thank you" is the wrong answer. Of all the dishes I've shared at Attica, this has won universal claim and has to be tried. What we thought would be a plate featuring a specific genus of crab looked instead to be a fresh downpour of snow.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wWiKXK6-MKw/T4-zARafpiI/AAAAAAAAAZQ/CrdE_D9v-g0/s512/5_SnowCrab.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="1" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wWiKXK6-MKw/T4-zARafpiI/AAAAAAAAAZQ/CrdE_D9v-g0/s1600/5_SnowCrab.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Snow" Crab</td></tr>
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Beneath the mound of what is in fact horseradish powder are layers of soft crab meat, puffed rice, popping salmon roe, verjuice granita, barberries, leek ash and freeze dried coconut. The textures are sumptuous and the dish exciting to eat, especially the warmth from the horseradish with the sweetness of the crab.
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Snow" Crab</td></tr>
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At the March sitting, our second course is a pleasant salad of fresh tomatoes, spiced, roasted hazelnuts and a mix of basil from Attica's garden, showcasing the difference in flavour between varieties, alternating collectively between aniseed and pepper.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vylmiNZ2EjI/T4-z2pFYviI/AAAAAAAAAcQ/kGPW7gIeB98/s512/6_Tomato.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="1" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vylmiNZ2EjI/T4-z2pFYviI/AAAAAAAAAcQ/kGPW7gIeB98/s1600/6_Tomato.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tomato, Smoked Sesame, Eleven Basils</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tomato, Smoked Sesame, Eleven Basils (Photo credit: Ed Brill)</td></tr>
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So perhaps those British botanists weren't entirely mistaken. On the two occasions I was served the next course, I found the leek to be...a relatively flavourless vegetable taking up valuable real estate that would have been better suited to more protein. The photograph does some justice to the marron, which was provocatively plump and skilfully cooked. Disappointingly, while the accompanying broth was described as being made with chorizo, our table could not detect any smokiness.
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EQ7hRV65kL4/T4-y-yky46I/AAAAAAAAAZI/a2gMCUxiUfI/s512/6_Marron.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="1" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EQ7hRV65kL4/T4-y-yky46I/AAAAAAAAAZI/a2gMCUxiUfI/s1600/6_Marron.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Marron, Leek, Native Pepper</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uztsosZ_J7k/T4-zDnu5_SI/AAAAAAAAAZg/5Z_s0hnjHzc/s512/6_Marron2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="1" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uztsosZ_J7k/T4-zDnu5_SI/AAAAAAAAAZg/5Z_s0hnjHzc/s1600/6_Marron2.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Marron, Leek, Native Pepper</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-v6ATMxgDx1Y/T4-zDUJytOI/AAAAAAAAAZk/MRPPT5X-uWE/s505/7_Potato.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="1" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-v6ATMxgDx1Y/T4-zDUJytOI/AAAAAAAAAZk/MRPPT5X-uWE/s1600/7_Potato.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"A simple dish of Potato cooked in the earth it was grown"</td></tr>
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I remain unconvinced that cooking a potato for eight hours within the dirt from which it sprung qualifies as "simple." I am persuaded however that Attica are serving the best lump of starch I've ever had the pleasure of, creamy and matched with nutty ground coffee, crunchy dried saltbush, smoked goats cheese and coconut ash.<br />
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Our next course ostensibly centres around pearl oyster, however, the delicate, thin slices of clam meat are part of a duel triumph shared with a cube of tender pork tail crackling. Complete with dehydrated onion, radish and brocollini stem for colour and bite, a shiitake mushroom glaze finishes off each mouthful with loads of umami.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Meat from the Pearl Oyster (December)</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Meat from the Pearl Oyster (March)</td></tr>
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The lightness of the last dish sets the stage for something luxurious, which on both visits is a cross section of salt-crusted baked vegetables, succulent leaves and buds, chopped almonds toasted to a golden brown in butter and garlic and a delicate poached egg yolk. Both variations are finished with an immaculately sharp cheddar cream sauce of aged Pyengana and both times, my eyes roll back into my head.<br />
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Our "wine" match for the artichoke version of this dish is Chimay's Grande Reserve, which has the depth and touch of bitterness that I'm looking for after each decadent spoonful of Pyengana sauce.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5i-03Tr4D0g/T4-zIZ3_ADI/AAAAAAAAAZ8/6IGoiHEkxOc/s512/9_Artichoke.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="1" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5i-03Tr4D0g/T4-zIZ3_ADI/AAAAAAAAAZ8/6IGoiHEkxOc/s1600/9_Artichoke.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Version 1: Artichoke, salt baked Celeriac, ......</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Version 1: Artichoke, salt baked Celeriac, finished w/ Pyengana, matched w/ Chimay Grande Reserve 2010</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-P2MwRNXv1_A/T4-zaE-NeoI/AAAAAAAAAaQ/3WDYSXy0FgM/s512/10_Kumara.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="1" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-P2MwRNXv1_A/T4-zaE-NeoI/AAAAAAAAAaQ/3WDYSXy0FgM/s1600/10_Kumara.jpg" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Version 2: Kumara (sweet potato), Purslane, ......</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-chnUgMTBjFg/T4-zZ_s0KQI/AAAAAAAAAaY/raf0OXF-J74/s512/10_Kumara2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="1" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-chnUgMTBjFg/T4-zZ_s0KQI/AAAAAAAAAaY/raf0OXF-J74/s1600/10_Kumara2.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Version 2: Kumara (sweet potato), Purslane, Pyengana
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If the next course appears to be small, then the camera perspective was nothing less than faithful. The menu shifts into welcome, gamier territory and the wallaby is delicious and tender, supported by sweet, earthy flavour from the currants and shavings of bunya pine nut. Sadly, the bite of flesh is all tease, as there's too little meat on our plates.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Nn6HtwfFg14/T4-zhIJCgII/AAAAAAAAAao/DnrhzeKZ4gI/s505/11_WallabyBrill2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="1" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Nn6HtwfFg14/T4-zhIJCgII/AAAAAAAAAao/DnrhzeKZ4gI/s1600/11_WallabyBrill2.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Flinders Island Wallaby, Bunya Pine, Begonia (Photo credit: Ed Brill)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The beef tongue we were served on our first outing was more generous in quantity and breadth of taste. Having been smoked and poached, the beef smoothly cut away from itself and I made sure to lather it in silky parsnip purée, before inhaling it with the freeze-dried blackberries, pearl onions and lettuce stems.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-IPaEAHk2J7w/T4-yx-RALvI/AAAAAAAAAXg/VpQ3Q26ilig/s512/10_Tongue.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="1" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-5oCBNSWCZ_Q/T4-yxkTScyI/AAAAAAAAAXc/ZQOhKV0fo84/s505/10_Tongue3.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beef Tongue, Vanilla, Parsnip, Lettuce Stems</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tT0c730tHE0/T4-yz83N1xI/AAAAAAAAAX0/gjQnyorT5cQ/s512/10_Tongue4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="1" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tT0c730tHE0/T4-yz83N1xI/AAAAAAAAAX0/gjQnyorT5cQ/s1600/10_Tongue4.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beef Tongue, Vanilla, Parsnip, Lettuce Stems</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
As is my habit, I found myself lusting for something deep, dark and chocolatey for dessert, but knew full well that such fare was unlikely to show up. Fortunately, a dessert of strawberries and rhubarb immersed in an intense strawberry oil, dusted with sugar and finished with custard is bright and refreshing, with a long, caramelized finish to the flavour that I couldn't pinpoint.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ywmcyqyVyNs/T4-y2crZQXI/AAAAAAAAAYE/NiSUqv7NoOk/s512/11_Strawberries2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="1" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ywmcyqyVyNs/T4-y2crZQXI/AAAAAAAAAYE/NiSUqv7NoOk/s1600/11_Strawberries2.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Strawberries with Rhubarb</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HGwSLG8UVcg/T4-y3OjPtmI/AAAAAAAAAYM/vZ6wlvBRl4A/s512/11_Strawberries3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="1" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HGwSLG8UVcg/T4-y3OjPtmI/AAAAAAAAAYM/vZ6wlvBRl4A/s1600/11_Strawberries3.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Strawberries with Rhubarb</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The alternative dessert course of raisins and cheese is visually striking but makes enemies at the table of those who are confounded by the union of the grape flavours, grape juice and cheese. I found it to be light and interesting, with its mix of dried, dehydrated and fresh fruit, however the juice was somewhat off-putting and I might have enjoyed it more had it had a more syrupy consistency.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dG-2AJrJuIg/T4-znJFKFRI/AAAAAAAAAbQ/5LU9I1BocAU/s512/12_Raisins.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="1" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dG-2AJrJuIg/T4-znJFKFRI/AAAAAAAAAbQ/5LU9I1BocAU/s1600/12_Raisins.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Raisins, Whey, Hazelnut</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Lastly, a second dessert course of jewel-like native fruits, consisting of quandong, lemon aspen, candied hibiscus flower, mongres, native currant, desert lime and custard waterseed, finished with red currant ice, eucalyptus infused sheeps yogurt and honeyed custard.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-r0VCn2oI0Gk/T4-y3O1dcMI/AAAAAAAAAYI/q1eomjq2Kc0/s512/12_Fruits.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="1" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-r0VCn2oI0Gk/T4-y3O1dcMI/AAAAAAAAAYI/q1eomjq2Kc0/s1600/12_Fruits.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Native Fruits of Australia</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
This dessert speaks volumes about why Attica receives the accolades that it does, considering that some people - including myself - find elements of the dish resolutely unpleasant. A number of these fruits are protected and cannot be picked and sold by any old peasant. Attica is engaged in utilizing and promoting little-known native produce and indeed, this is unlike anything else I've come across as my stomach has growled its way around the world. The candied hibiscus is lovely and the thick drizzle of yogurt a harmonious complement as you move around the plate, but some of the fruits are too tart and bitter to be considered enjoyable.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-sK5l0aDibrc/T4-zmJ0MCLI/AAAAAAAAAbI/pYhnzJQhi1A/s512/13_Fruits.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="1" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-sK5l0aDibrc/T4-zmJ0MCLI/AAAAAAAAAbI/pYhnzJQhi1A/s1600/13_Fruits.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Native Fruits of Australia</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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With coffee and tea come some unusual petits fours. Doubtless, even the most dedicated forager will not manage to procure beautiful handmade white chocolate eggs, concealing a gooey centre of salted caramel.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-stb3U7yjZnw/T4-znh_oC8I/AAAAAAAAAbM/eF9c-AyBReI/s512/14_Eggs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="1" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-stb3U7yjZnw/T4-znh_oC8I/AAAAAAAAAbM/eF9c-AyBReI/s1600/14_Eggs.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">White chocolate "Pukeko eggs" filled w/ salted caramel</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Winding up on a purported list of the world's best restaurants strikes me as a mixed blessing. In my view, Attica does not occupy the position of Melbourne's best dining experience, however, it does indeed provide diners with a trailblazing experience and their creativity and successes are deserving of recognition. And sampling, if you have an interest in native Australian produce.<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.urbanspoon.com/r/71/760107/restaurant/Melbourne/Elsternwick/Attica-Ripponlea"><img alt="Attica on Urbanspoon" src="http://www.urbanspoon.com/b/link/760107/biglink.gif" style="border: none; height: 146px; padding: 0px; width: 200px;" /></a>Plate Lickerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11040573412122698464noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1393070392493923175.post-71553841467228444002012-04-19T09:53:00.003-07:002012-04-19T10:17:04.429-07:00Because one of everything will do nicely - a Fitzroy foodie crawl<center><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-y2DD4M7WvjA/T4-wYyQK1OI/AAAAAAAAAVg/6JeCZl0uleo/s505/Cutler%2526Co.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="1" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-y2DD4M7WvjA/T4-wYyQK1OI/AAAAAAAAAVg/6JeCZl0uleo/s1600/Cutler%2526Co.jpg" /></a></center><br />
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Social media comes in many different flavours, but irrespective of your preference for subreddits, hashtags or funny cat macros, regular users of the Internet are generally familiar with the expression, "first world problems," the kind of trivial inconveniences that you've the luxury of noticing when you're reasonably advanced on Maslow's hierarchy of needs.<br />
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This comedic device is now spawning variations, such as "first world cat problems" (such is the Internet's preoccupation with felines). However, on a culinary crawl of Fitzroy this week with a chef and some fellow gluttons, I found myself considering the scope of "first world foodie problems"...<br />
<br />
"Dude, you can't eat that yet, I need to get a photo."<br />
"Ugh, no tables for thirty minutes, we'll have to just sit at the bar and try their cocktails."<br />
"I just felt there was too much jamón on the plate."<br />
"Wait, it's blurry, just one more shot. Hah, sorry, wrong ISO setting. One sec'."<br />
<br />
Frequently, I'm torn up with indecision over menus that offer an array of dishes that all sound spectacular - and me limited to the capacity of a relatively small stomach. Melbourne restaurants are increasingly offering set menu options, perhaps on the basis of diners being unable to make up their minds and wanting to be divested of tough decisions (looking in your direction Mamasita, Huxtable, Chin Chin, Golden Fields).<br />
<br />
Our group of six had an alternative solution however: order one of everything.<br />
<br />
<b>Venue:</b> Huxtaburger<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b>Style:</b> Burgers</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b>Address:</b> 106 Smith St, Collingwood [<a href="http://maps.google.com.au/maps?q=huxtaburger&hl=en&ll=-37.803816,144.983225&spn=0.018751,0.042272&hq=huxtaburger&hnear=Melbourne,+Victoria&t=m&z=15&iwloc=A" target="_blank">Google Maps</a>]</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b>Phone:</b> (03) 9417 6328</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b>Hours:</b> Tue-Sun 11:30am-late</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b>Prices:</b> Burgers from $8.00</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b>Bookings:</b> Not accepted</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b>Website:</b> <a href="http://www.huxtaburger.com.au/" target="_blank">http://www.huxtaburger.com.au/</a></div><br />
The atmosphere in and around Huxtaburger is more akin to trendy nightspot than greasy burger joint. It's a great place for starting or ending an evening, with a simple selection of beers that can be enjoyed on the sidewalk, as the clientèle ensure that the interior remains packed.<br />
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<center><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YOIMPG-2sMc/T4-wmPwKXjI/AAAAAAAAAW8/R9fS7Y1VTYU/s505/Huxtaburger_preburger2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="1" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YOIMPG-2sMc/T4-wmPwKXjI/AAAAAAAAAW8/R9fS7Y1VTYU/s1600/Huxtaburger_preburger2.jpg" /></a></center><br />
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<center><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WIMV8tuKkAI/T4-wkz5ddSI/AAAAAAAAAW0/xWgK1drKYUU/s505/Huxtaburger_prep2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="1" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WIMV8tuKkAI/T4-wkz5ddSI/AAAAAAAAAW0/xWgK1drKYUU/s1600/Huxtaburger_prep2.jpg" /></a></center><br />
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<center><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TgvEWBcihDM/T4-wpFhiERI/AAAAAAAAAXM/Itl89imP2nk/s512/Huxtaburger_prep3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="1" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TgvEWBcihDM/T4-wpFhiERI/AAAAAAAAAXM/Itl89imP2nk/s1600/Huxtaburger_prep3.jpg" /></a></center><br />
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The brioche burger buns are a real differentiator in a market so recently swept by healthy burgers. As a believer in moderation and being able to cinch down in a corset, the Huxtaburger offerings are a decadent once-in-awhile treat. The burger has all the qualities of totally satisfying greasy food; flavour is rich, condiments tangy and the cheese melted almost seamlessly against the patty [note: the photo below makes the burger appear larger than it is, they're an easy appetiser].<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-awtwrHObAQ4/T4-wizppx7I/AAAAAAAAAWc/BhCo5mrwUF0/s505/Huxtaburger_Burgerv2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="1" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-awtwrHObAQ4/T4-wizppx7I/AAAAAAAAAWc/BhCo5mrwUF0/s1600/Huxtaburger_Burgerv2.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">w/ crinkle-cut chipotle chips</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<a href="http://www.urbanspoon.com/r/71/1642008/restaurant/Melbourne/Huxtaburger-Collingwood"><img alt="Huxtaburger on Urbanspoon" src="http://www.urbanspoon.com/b/link/1642008/biglink.gif" style="border: none; height: 146px; padding: 0px; width: 200px;" /></a><br />
<br />
Moving on for something more substantial, J guides us to the just-reopened Builders Arms Hotel, which has been smartened up and taken over by the team responsible for <a href="http://cumulusinc.com.au/" target="_blank">Cumulus</a>. The interior is austere but inviting, a place where you'd have no compunctions about ordering a counter meal but then again, this is definitely not a case of "Andrew McConnell presents the chicken parma!" (I would be interested).<br />
<br />
<b>Venue:</b> Builders Arms Hotel<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b>Style:</b> Gastro Pub</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b>Address:</b> 211 Gertrude St, Fitzroy [<a href="http://maps.google.com.au/maps?q=builders+arms+hotel+gertrude+st&ll=-37.805597,144.981594&spn=0.009375,0.021136&fb=1&gl=au&hq=builders+arms+hotel+gertrude+st&cid=0,0,10804912107383254276&t=m&z=16&iwloc=A" target="_blank">Google Maps</a>]</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b>Phone:</b> (03) 9417 7700</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b>Hours:</b> 7 days, bistro 12:00pm-10:00pm, bar 12:00pm-midnight</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b>Prices:</b> Appetisers $4-14 / Share plates $10-16 / Mains $23-34 / Dessert $12-16</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b>Bookings:</b> Accepted at lunch; accepted at dinner for groups of 8-12</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b>Website:</b> <a href="http://www.buildersarmshotel.com.au/" target="_blank">http://www.buildersarmshotel.com.au/</a></div><br />
<center><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7XSsTBk7vBs/T4-wMv4f3SI/AAAAAAAAAUs/luGhy33JOq8/s512/BuildersArms_Menu.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="1" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7XSsTBk7vBs/T4-wMv4f3SI/AAAAAAAAAUs/luGhy33JOq8/s1600/BuildersArms_Menu.jpg" /></a></center><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7oeRDAj4ISM/T4-wOdG8eOI/AAAAAAAAAVE/TCY0IFXoeIs/s512/BuildersArms_Oysters.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="1" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7oeRDAj4ISM/T4-wOdG8eOI/AAAAAAAAAVE/TCY0IFXoeIs/s1600/BuildersArms_Oysters.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Claire de Lune oysters and spiced almonds</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
This is first-class drinking food, in that there are lots of delicious, small things to grab at and share with friends as you down your Mountain Goat ale. J assumes responsibility for ordering and because we're all so hungry and indecisive, he asks for oysters, three serves of pig ear scratchings, three serves of whipped cod roe, threes serves of Ortiz anchovy toasts, three serves of the smoked curd with crudité, a kilo of mussels with aioli and two serves of Reuben sandwich.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--p8LiEvL3h8/T4-wOYk0WEI/AAAAAAAAAVI/gDgTJyZoRN0/s505/BuildersArms_PorkScratching.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="1" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--p8LiEvL3h8/T4-wOYk0WEI/AAAAAAAAAVI/gDgTJyZoRN0/s1600/BuildersArms_PorkScratching.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Whipped cod roe and pig ear scratchings</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
The almonds are warm but not particularly spicy, while the pig scratchings are as crunchy and delicious as they look and go very nicely when dipped into the whipped cod roe, if you're not in the mood to eat bread. Ortiz anchovy toasts are fine but the spread is erring on the salty side (which may be the point, in an establishment erected for the purpose of drinking).<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XCrXut0znnM/T4-wMSHyOOI/AAAAAAAAAUo/DtXLIAyCdA8/s505/BuildersArms_Anchovies.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="1" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XCrXut0znnM/T4-wMSHyOOI/AAAAAAAAAUo/DtXLIAyCdA8/s1600/BuildersArms_Anchovies.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Olive toast, Ortiz anchovy & pepper</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-s1jNaGTA4fo/T4-wMVXaapI/AAAAAAAAAUw/t9tGClkwYfQ/s505/BuildersArms_Crudites.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="1" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-s1jNaGTA4fo/T4-wMVXaapI/AAAAAAAAAUw/t9tGClkwYfQ/s1600/BuildersArms_Crudites.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Smoked curd, crudité, pomegranate</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
The fresh crunch of the crudité is a welcome addition to the table, along with the distinct smokiness of the goats cheese. A lashing of dark molasses is a beautiful match for the cheese, but we feel the pomegranate seeds have been included for looks, as they don't add much. The best part about the mussels is the aioli, remarkably light and silky.<br />
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<center><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LpkEydZ5gMw/T4-wN5q5O_I/AAAAAAAAAVA/juZJbhelH_w/s505/BuildersArms_Mussels.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="1" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LpkEydZ5gMw/T4-wN5q5O_I/AAAAAAAAAVA/juZJbhelH_w/s1600/BuildersArms_Mussels.jpg" /></a></center><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mxmBlVo2GpU/T4-wRzTG0NI/AAAAAAAAAVY/dDnYrET4wr0/s505/BuildersArms_Reubens.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="1" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mxmBlVo2GpU/T4-wRzTG0NI/AAAAAAAAAVY/dDnYrET4wr0/s1600/BuildersArms_Reubens.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Reuben sandwich w/ cornichons and fat chips</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
The Reuben is hearty, with good textures and mouthfeel, but lacking in flavour. Perhaps we set ourselves up for disappointment, conversing as we were about happy memories of Monterey Jack cheese.<br />
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There is good noshing to be done at the new incarnation of the Builders Arms; it's a comfortable space which I could see myself losing hours in with an interesting drinks list and a few very good things to snack on, however, if it's dinner you're after, just go to Cumulus, have the lamb shoulder with lemon and Spanish onion.<br />
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<a href="http://www.urbanspoon.com/r/71/760278/restaurant/Melbourne/Collingwood/Builders-Arms-Hotel-Fitzroy"><img alt="Builders Arms Hotel on Urbanspoon" src="http://www.urbanspoon.com/b/link/760278/biglink.gif" style="border: none; height: 146px; padding: 0px; width: 200px;" /></a><br />
<div><div style="font-weight: bold;"><br />
</div>While the Builders Arms dessert menu didn't excite me, tales of the backrooms of some of Melbourne's famous kitchens did, including the levelling of a Masterchef identity years ago with a heavy-based frying pan to the face. We were raucous and quickly established that we all had a dessert stomach intact, so we pressed onward for something that was equal parts sweet and interesting.</div><br />
<b>Venue:</b> Cutler & Co<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b>Style:</b> Modern Australian</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b>Address:</b> 55-57 Gertrude St, Fitzroy [<a href="http://maps.google.com.au/maps?q=cutler+%26+co&ll=-37.804986,144.975886&spn=0.009375,0.021136&fb=1&gl=au&hq=cutler+%26+co&hnear=0x6ad646b5d2ba4df7:0x4045675218ccd90,Melbourne,+VIC&cid=0,0,5533987088383012143&t=m&z=16&iwloc=A" target="_blank">Google Maps</a>]</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b>Phone:</b> (03) 9419 4888</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b>Hours:</b> Lunch: Fri & Sun from 12:00pm / Dinner: Tue-Sun from 6:00pm-late</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b>Prices:</b> Entrées $26 / Mains $43 / Dessert $19 / 8-course Degustation $140</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b>Bookings:</b> Required</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b>Website:</b> <a href="http://www.cutlerandco.com.au/" target="_blank">http://www.cutlerandco.com.au</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CxdtzcKNGG8/T4-wZE06JQI/AAAAAAAAAVk/Sbl9h03HMR8/s512/Cutler%2526CoMenu.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="1" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CxdtzcKNGG8/T4-wZE06JQI/AAAAAAAAAVk/Sbl9h03HMR8/s1600/Cutler%2526CoMenu.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Six diners - five desserts. We ordered one of everything, plus an extra chocolate ice-cream sandwich.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-X6pY8W3Rcq8/T4-wZGDHw1I/AAAAAAAAAVo/MHvuRAARd6M/s640/Cutler%2526Co2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="1" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-X6pY8W3Rcq8/T4-wZGDHw1I/AAAAAAAAAVo/MHvuRAARd6M/s1600/Cutler%2526Co2.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">For such a large space, Cutler & Co is muted, as well as being moody, low-lit and sexy, comparable to my other favourite venues for romantic dining (Ezard and The European). Service is slick and accommodating; J's partner asks if they might make up a dessert-inspired cocktail for her and they return in no time with a tumbler full of something that is chocolatey and possibly one part rocket fuel.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-aLLu3wpUj7U/T4-wb-b_SII/AAAAAAAAAWQ/FxT1VIiyxac/s505/Cutler%2526Co_VioletChocCherry.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="1" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-aLLu3wpUj7U/T4-wb-b_SII/AAAAAAAAAWQ/FxT1VIiyxac/s1600/Cutler%2526Co_VioletChocCherry.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Violet ice cream, chocolate ganache, sour cherry & clove meringue</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The violet ice-cream seems to be the most popular dish at the table, mingling bites of luscious chocolate and the sharpness of the cherries (this dish is best enjoyed by eating some of each element all at the same time).</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9QIcV6AIE8c/T4-waoUWg9I/AAAAAAAAAV4/Ign5NkSKgm0/s505/Cutler%2526Co_ChocIceSandwich.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="1" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9QIcV6AIE8c/T4-waoUWg9I/AAAAAAAAAV4/Ign5NkSKgm0/s1600/Cutler%2526Co_ChocIceSandwich.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chocolate ice cream sandwich, vanilla parfait & salted caramel</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Sadly predictable, it's the chocolate ice cream sandwich that wins my acclaim. The chocolate is impeccably smooth and the sauce is so bold, with a lovely burnt flavour coming through. This is in stark opposition to another dessert on the table, the ginger granita with coconut, lychee and aloe vera; the latter is light and very refreshing, but it lacks impact once you've inhaled a mouthful of intense caramel sauce. It is the sort of dessert I would order though had I just eaten something rich, like beef cheek.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3Yaev7Y4yjw/T4-waiNiVVI/AAAAAAAAAWA/0QhJNAcgPjs/s505/Cutler%2526Co_AppleTerrineToast.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="1" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3Yaev7Y4yjw/T4-waiNiVVI/AAAAAAAAAWA/0QhJNAcgPjs/s1600/Cutler%2526Co_AppleTerrineToast.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">[Left] Apple terrine, toasted cereal ice cream, burnt butter & oat crumble and [right] Ginger granita, coconut tapioca, fresh lychee & aloe vera</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The strangest dessert is that of the apple terrine, with crumble and toasted cereal. It is breakfast transmuted into dessert and again, it does lack for something, in the face of a sour cherry and caramel sauce onslaught; however, the mix of textures is interesting and compelling to eat.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UB6s4ZyfINQ/T4-wa5riz0I/AAAAAAAAAV8/2DfC7KrT5zA/s505/Cutler%2526Co_PearSuet.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UB6s4ZyfINQ/T4-wa5riz0I/AAAAAAAAAV8/2DfC7KrT5zA/s1600/Cutler%2526Co_PearSuet.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pear & suet pudding, milk sorbet & candied lemon</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Lastly, the pear pudding is a perfect, comforting, winter dessert dish, hot and dense but not heavy with the sweetness. The milk sorbet is plated at the table, so that it doesn't melt against the pudding on its way from the kitchen. I'd have appreciated more candied lemon, but this sort of quibble is indeed a first world foodie problem and barely registers when you've just enjoyed every dessert on the menu of such an impressive restaurant.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Coffee is served with wonderfully moist passion fruit marshmallows, also noteworthy for their citrussy flavour.</div><br />
<a href="http://www.urbanspoon.com/r/71/1435607/restaurant/Melbourne/Cutler-Co-Fitzroy"><img alt="Cutler & Co on Urbanspoon" src="http://www.urbanspoon.com/b/link/1435607/biglink.gif" style="border: none; height: 146px; padding: 0px; width: 200px;" /></a>Plate Lickerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11040573412122698464noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1393070392493923175.post-18668182104662617172012-03-22T08:04:00.000-07:002012-03-22T08:04:43.480-07:00As sure-footed as a Himalayan bovine<b>Venue:</b> Yak Bar pasta artigianale<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b>Style:</b> Italian</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b>Address:</b> 150 Flinders Lane, Melbourne [<a href="http://maps.google.com.au/maps?q=yak+bar+flinders+lane&hl=en&ll=-37.815141,144.968977&spn=0.009374,0.021136&hq=yak+bar+flinders+lane&radius=15000&t=m&z=16&iwloc=A" target="_blank">Google Maps</a>]</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b>Phone:</b> (03) 9654 6699</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b>Hours:</b> Tue-Fri 7:00am-3:00am / Sat 5:00pm-3:00am</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b>Prices:</b> Starters $15.00 / Pastas $21.00 / Desserts $12.00</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b>Bookings:</b> Recommended</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b>Website:</b> <a href="http://www.yakbarfood.com.au/" target="_blank">http://www.yakbarfood.com.au/</a></div><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="1" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-jdfLL9s-VNU/T2sk1LkxANI/AAAAAAAAAT8/OkA9MJmjdBY/s505/IMG_1307_SquidInkAngelHair.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Angel hair pasta in squid ink sauce with calamari, shaved scallops</td></tr></tbody></table><br />
According to <a href="http://www.theage.com.au/lifestyle/cuisine/bitesize-view-of-a-nation-20120317-1vbna.html" target="_blank">a review in The Age this week of shifts in Australian eating habits</a>, the last decade has been unkind to Italian restaurateurs. Crazes such as low-carbohydrate diets and a preoccupation by the media with low GI (glycemic index) foods are unlikely to have done these restaurants any favours. Beloved by Australians, mainstays like spaghetti bolognese have had to compete with an explosion of choice on the dining scene, from food trucks to pintxos to authentic Mexican.<br />
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And while Melbourne is not without its stalwarts of the Italian culinary tradition, it has been a long time since I've been excited by an Italian restaurant. The cooking is invariably good but the price-to-portion ratio regularly strikes me as having been formulated in a Bizarro universe.<br />
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At Yak however, the mix of service, flavours, quality produce and value for money is in equilibrium.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="1" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-czW8aAyIT9U/T2sk1BI3bgI/AAAAAAAAAT4/3Y6EVu8EZC0/s505/IMG_1299_mushroom.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Forest mushrooms with fresh goat's cheese and crusty foccaccia</td></tr></tbody></table><br />
We start with two beautifully plated appetisers of goat's cheese with wild mushrooms and foccaccia and a serve of tender calamari with salsa verde and shaved white zucchini.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="1" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-39hMfMdImjU/T2sk1jBjGmI/AAAAAAAAAUA/oIqZA761zK8/s512/IMG_1303_calamari.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Char-grilled baby calamari with salsa verde and shaved white zucchini</td></tr></tbody></table><br />
The mushrooms are suffused with rich, earthy flavour, enhanced by the decadence of the smooth goat's cheese. Good oil and herbs finish the dish. The calamari and zucchini is a marvel to look at and delicate to eat, with touches of citrus and saltiness.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="1" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-gT2xTbz9ByA/T2sk3OqFOuI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/dPldrzQA8Fc/s505/IMG_1310_Pizzoccheri.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pizzoccheri with potato, cabbage, taleggio cheese, garlic, sage and brown butter</td></tr></tbody></table><br />
Mr. S orders the pizzoccheri on the grounds that neither of us know what it is. This rustic dish of buckwheat pasta and vegetables again demonstrates the kitchen's lightness of hand, with a burnt butter sauce adding just enough richness.<br />
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My angel hair pasta however is a dish I would return for alone, dressed in evil-looking squid ink sauce and finished with just-cooked calamari, shaved scallops and one tantalisingly fresh oyster.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="1" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-Q-SWBUXL8Kw/T2sk435Gj8I/AAAAAAAAAUc/o4KYUtXmH0w/s512/IMG_1312_tartuffo.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chocolate hazelnut tartufo</td></tr></tbody></table><br />
We cannot refuse dessert, given the quality of the meal so far and opt to share a rather anti-climactic looking tartufo. It is however finished off with good liqueur and hiding a heart of velvety hazelnut ice-cream.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="1" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-pZeK9CxM5WU/T2sk4Z9zEfI/AAAAAAAAAUY/dCFVy1eZX-c/s505/IMG_1314_platelicked.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Same as I ever was</td></tr></tbody></table><br />
Service is suitably attentive but unobtrusive, as in, our orders were taken promptly and our water regularly refilled, but no-one laid a guilt trip on us for not being interested in coffee, nor were we discouraged from sitting around to converse for more than an hour after we finished our dessert.<br />
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It stands to reason that a kind of complacency sets in with any food that becomes a staple. Yak however is doing great things with pasta and everything else we experienced. Order the one you've never heard of and know you're in good hands.<br />
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<a href="http://www.urbanspoon.com/r/71/1437755/restaurant/CBD/Yak-Bar-Pasta-Artigianale-Melbourne"><img alt="Yak Bar Pasta Artigianale on Urbanspoon" src="http://www.urbanspoon.com/b/link/1437755/biglink.gif" style="border:none;width:200px;height:146px" /></a>Plate Lickerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11040573412122698464noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1393070392493923175.post-72953249314544692582012-03-11T09:33:00.004-07:002012-03-21T00:33:58.362-07:00Duck season! Fire!Until relatively recently, French was the preferred language of international relations and diplomacy. Shifts in political dominance have been reflected by this move away from French as the international auxiliary language, however, French words maintain a unique cachet that add an air of respectability/glamour to the banal (<i>Gel Multi Tenseur Buste</i> just sounds so much more scientific than <i>Boob Enhancing Cream</i>). Likewise, <i>confit de canard</i> is the sort of thing many of us strictly go out to dinner for.<br />
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<center><img src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-CTmtpzSD9yU/T1y65zZU-NI/AAAAAAAAAS4/7l0SBl4nO4c/s505/1_hor.jpg" border="1"></center><br />
Years ago, before I became committed to recreating feats of deliciousness at home, I didn't stop to ponder the mysteries of fine cooking - I just assumed there were no half-measures. You were either a disciple of Escoffier or you appreciated fine cookery as an occasion, subsisting on tuna pesto sandwiches during the week (delicious, actually).<br />
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<i>Confit de canard</i> refers to duck legs cured in salt and poached in their own fat. And if I can get it right first time, so can you - and you should. It felt obscene, suddenly having a huge quantity of succulent, glossy duck meat available to me, not to mention the skin, all crispy, golden and richly flavoured. The recipe below was a first attempt and one I will make again; the textures and tastes are in complete harmony, every bite of freshly-roasted hazelnut and softened taleggio lifted the dish into the stratosphere.<br />
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Dominant political powers aside, loud moaning is something we all understand.<br />
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<center><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-kqbqKH9ziQY/T1y67O3O_xI/AAAAAAAAATE/Px_WarU6r64/s512/2_1.jpg" border="1"></center> <br />
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<h3>Duck confit pasta with caramelized pear, hazelnuts, taleggio and sage</h3><i>Serves 4 hungry people</i><br />
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<b>Ingredients:</b><br />
4 duck Marylands (a duck leg with the thigh attached and skin on)<br />
Salt<br />
Olive oil<br />
150g raw hazelnuts<br />
3 pears, washed, with the cores removed<br />
1 tablespoon unsalted butter<br />
450g fresh pasta (tagliatelle, garganelli)<br />
4 shallots, chopped fine<br />
Black pepper, freshly ground<br />
Sage (or mint), washed<br />
150g taleggio, cubed and at room temperature<br />
2 cups white wine or chicken stock<br />
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<b>Method:</b><br />
1) To slow roast, preheat the over to 150°C / 300°F. Pat duck legs dry with a paper towel, focusing on the skin (the drier the skin, the crispier the finish). Prick all over to render out fat and salt generously.<br />
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2) Pour enough olive oil into a casserole dish to cover the base. Place duck skin-side up in the dish without the pieces overlapping and cook for 90 minutes.<br />
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3) Increase heat to 190°C / 375°F and cook for 15 minutes. Duck should be light golden brown. Remove and allow to cool enough to handle.<br />
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4) Roast hazelnuts on a clean tray. <i>Nuts can burn quickly; 5-10 minutes should be sufficient.</i> The hazelnuts will smell roasted and look shiny when ready. If you're easily distractable and wind up with a slightly burnt scent, it is likely to just be the skin, which slips off quite easily, leaving you with delicious, carbon-free roasted hazelnuts. Set aside.<br />
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5) Transfer duck to another dish. Pour out excess liquid in the casserole dish, reserving at least half. Slice pears into thin wedges (I recommend using a mandolin, for speed and consistency), place in casserole dish, toss with reserved duck fat and cook in oven at 190°C / 375°F for 30 minutes or until pears are very soft.<br />
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6) Shred duck skin and meat off the bones; chicken shears are useful here. Otherwise, get in with your hands and resist the urge to nibble on that luscious duck skin.<br />
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<center><img src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-K8Tip_mtapo/T1y7LQUwdGI/AAAAAAAAATU/fzcoOh-WfhE/s512/3_3.jpg" border="1"></center><br />
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7) Heat a large sauté pan over medium-high heat for 2 minutes. Add the butter and shallots and cook until translucent. Add the duck meat and skin, a few sage leaves and white wine or stock. Turn heat down to medium. Add the pear if it needs more softening. Simmer for at least 20 minutes. Add more wine or the liquid from the pears if the duck appears dry.<br />
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8) Place pasta in salted, boiling water. Fresh egg pasta will need stirring to keep it from sticking.<br />
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9) When al dente, drain pasta, reserving a cup of the pasta water and add to the sauté pan with the duck. Toss the pasta with the duck. Add black pepper, hazelnuts, pear, taleggio cubes, more sage and toss again before serving.<br />
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<center><img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-0tzMu2hOX4s/T1y7PhnKX3I/AAAAAAAAATk/B-sTKal5htU/s512/4_1.jpg" border="1"></center>Plate Lickerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11040573412122698464noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1393070392493923175.post-70537410342773811522011-09-03T08:10:00.000-07:002011-09-03T08:12:57.915-07:00Sacrilegious: Pho shame<b>Venue:</b> MissChu<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b>Style:</b> Vietnamese, Hawker</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b>Address:</b> Shop 2, 297 Exhibition Street, Melbourne [<a href="http://maps.google.com.au/maps?q=297+exhibition+st,+melbourne&gl=au&z=16&vpsrc=0" target="_blank">Google Maps</a>]</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b>Phone:</b> (03) 9077 1097</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b>Hours:</b> Mon-Sat 11:00am-10:00pm</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b>Prices:</b> Snacks $2.50 - $8.00 / Mains from $13 / Desserts $3.50</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b>Bookings:</b> Unnecessary</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b>Website:</b> <a href="http://www.misschu.com.au/melbourne.php" target="_blank">http://www.misschu.com.au/</a></div><br />
Amongst Melbourne diners, there are certain edible articles of faith that inspire something approaching fanaticism. It has less to do with fashion than it does with the fact that some eating experiences defy trends: enduring, uncomplicated pleasures like the <a href="http://www.sevenseeds.com.au/cms-locations/" target="_blank">smoky finish of good espresso</a>, the architectural wonder that is <a href="http://www.andrewshamburgers.com.au/" target="_blank">a well-made burger</a> and the <a href="http://hutong.com.au/" target="_blank">more-ish quality of xiao long bao</a> (burns to the roof of my mouth be damned).<br />
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It was only a few weeks ago that I finally experienced another sacrosanct linchpin of the Melbourne eating scene, in Sydney ironically. It's been theorised that <i>phở</i> is a northern Vietnamese interpretation of the French classic <i>pot-au-feu</i>. Slim cuts of boiled beef are tossed into an aromatic broth with rice noodles and finished with garnishes of Thai basil, fresh lime, chilli and bean sprouts. The broth was wonderfully bold and spiked with ginger, with the garnishes adding heat, aniseed and acid. And whilst my late grandmother was no aficionado of Asian cuisine, she would have been delighted by such tender, flavourful brisket.<br />
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So I was puzzled to find MissChu offering a Wagyu beef phở on their menu. I wasn't clear on why you'd drown such produce in an aggressively flavoured broth, but I felt duty-bound to test out another phở and both Mr. S and I enjoyed the look of the rest of the menu.<br />
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<center><img border="1" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-R3BGSiqwTgg/TmI54YWhzFI/AAAAAAAAAP8/3n7VuT4RpUw/misschumenu.jpg" /></center><br />
By night, MissChu is a very cool, casual venue offset by flickering candles. They've made the most of a narrow space which serves just as well a relaxed diner or a pre-drinks stopover (indeed, I plan to return on a non-school night to sample the coconut crush mixers). Peruse your tuckshop order forms, as well as the specials board and place your order at the counter.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="1" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-uiZqW0ysvMg/TmI55TFNC9I/AAAAAAAAAQA/bNgM_fw_7Nc/ricepaperrolls.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mixed rice paper rolls</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
Mixed rice paper rolls are moist and refreshing, which is the very least you'd hope for from the self-styled "Queen of Rice Paper Rolls" ($6.50 for 2). Inventive combinations are also on offer, like the egg omelet with creamy avocado and caramelised onion with balsamic.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="1" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-MLvi61Sl9uY/TmI56dmdFWI/AAAAAAAAAQE/mrlbVGSIHcc/s512/prawncrabnet.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Prawn and crab net rolls</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
Mr. S and I share a serve of the prawn and crab net rolls ($5.00 for 4), which I misunderstand to be your typical spring roll, with filling whorled up inside of a single sheet and fried. Rather, these net rolls are a solid snack offering: delicate and crunchy without being greasy, with firm, juicy chunks of seafood within. I ensure each mouthful includes a lashing of sweet chilli dipping sauce and a few pieces of crisp lettuce. Mr. S agrees that the net wrapper is inspired and we consider ordering more, however, we've another course on the way...<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="1" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-TBFicCOz49Q/TmI58dQlyNI/AAAAAAAAAQI/G0tCrIEc3KU/s512/wagyupho.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wagyu beef pho </td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
MissChu's Wagyu beef phở ($14) is a problem. Premium ingredients aside, it is the sort of thing that draws people in - or turns them away - all on its own. If your basic dish is handicapped, you won't solve its deficiencies by dousing it in truffle oil. Likewise, this bowl of pho is a disappointment. The broth is not particularly flavoursome, even with the addition of the condiments. Worse, the hero of the dish - the beef - is chewy and doesn't taste of much. Sadly for MissChu and for me, the Wagyu tag comes across as nothing more than a cynical attempt to exploit premium cachet.<br />
<br />
This goes some way towards explaining some of the negative reviews MissChu has received, I believe, as overall, Mr. S and I liked the food and the venue and we'd return. We capped off our meal with a bowl of coconut ice-cream studded with chunks of coconut flesh and topped with toasted almonds and fresh mint.<br />
<br />
The Queen of Rice Paper Rolls is certainly adept with food, if not marketing.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.urbanspoon.com/r/71/1574505/restaurant/Victoria/CBD/MissChu-Melbourne"><img alt="MissChu on Urbanspoon" src="http://www.urbanspoon.com/b/link/1574505/biglink.gif" style="border: none; height: 146px; width: 200px;" /></a>Plate Lickerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11040573412122698464noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1393070392493923175.post-10030119127525121592011-08-21T07:20:00.000-07:002011-08-21T07:30:38.861-07:00Relative cost and outcomes: Dessert recipes<center><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-g4JmeHRbUUc/TlD7KVB1hxI/AAAAAAAAAPo/r4AGdFM_BX0/IMG_8519.jpg" border="1"></center><br />
Some years ago, I was heartened by a confessional piece penned by food journalist Matt Preston, wherein he admitted that his guiltiest pleasure was Coco Pops with a dollop of cream. This resonated with my definition of what it means to be a gourmand: to embrace food as something both nourishing and sensuous. It may also encompass an appreciation for the refined but it shouldn't exalt this aspect above all others, because to do so is to limit oneself. In the words of Clive James, "The human personality is a drama, not a monologue." Passionate foodie that I am, I vacillate between desires, from the wonder of cutting edge palate cleansers to the unapologetic satisfaction that is packet Mi Goreng at the end of a long Saturday night.<br />
<br />
As far as techniques go, making mousse barely qualifies as cooking. Much more skill is required to make, say, individual dessert tarts. Nerd that I am, I can't help but think of this in terms of cost-benefit analysis. Individual tarts require a significantly greater investment of time and effort than mousse; will the resulting pleasure derived from eating the tart be higher than that of the mousse, reflective of and equivalent to the extra work put in?<br />
<br />
Laziness won out in this instance and I went ahead with the mousse. What I did not anticipate was the reception this basic dessert would receive. Granted, it is delicious and I adapted it from <a href="http://www.lifestylefood.com.au/recipes/64/white-chocolate-mousse" target="_blank">Bill Granger's recipe</a> to exhibit the flavours and textures that I like best: a velvety mouthfeel, crunchy almonds, sweetness, citrus and bitterness.<br />
<br />
I've struck out the egg yolks, as I feel the mousse is rich enough already.<br />
<br />
<br />
<h3>White chocolate mousse w/ orange and almonds</h3><i>Serves 2 [simply double the quantities to make more]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Ingredients:</b><br />
100g white chocolate<br />
2 egg whites<br />
35g caster sugar<br />
80ml thickened cream<br />
20ml milk<br />
1 tsp vanilla extract (vanilla essence will work as well, but extract delivers better flavour and the visual pay-off of the little black dots from the vanilla pod)<br />
2 tbsp flaked almonds<br />
1 tbsp Grand Marnier (substitute in more orange juice if you're going for a non-alcoholic version)<br />
1 orange, reserving 1 tbsp juice plus zest<br />
<br />
<i>To decorate:</i><br />
Orange zest<br />
White chocolate curls (these can be shaved off of the edges of your white chocolate block)<br />
<br />
<b>Method:</b><br />
1) If decorating, make your orange and white chocolate curls <u>first</u>. Orange zest curls can be made using a very sharp vegetable peeler.<br />
2) To make white chocolate curls, shave along the edges of the chocolate block using your vegetable peeler. This can take a few attempts to get right. If you're a klutz like me and it takes you so long to work out that the chocolate starts to soften in your hands, whack it in the fridge and then try again.<br />
3) Break the chocolate into pieces and melt with the milk and vanilla extract in a heatproof bowl over a double boiler, stirring until smooth and set aside to cool to room temperature.<br />
4) Beat egg whites until, gradually adding caster sugar until glossy peaks form.<br />
5) In a separate bowl, beat the cream and then fold into egg white mixture with a large spoon.<br />
6) Fold the cooled chocolate mixture, orange juice, Grand Marnier and flaked almonds into the egg whites and cream mixture with a large spoon.<br />
7) Pour mixture into serving bowls/glasses and allow to set in the fridge.<br />
8) Once chilled, top with orange zest and white chocolate curls and dive right in.Plate Lickerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11040573412122698464noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1393070392493923175.post-29980112846479154242011-08-06T03:34:00.000-07:002011-08-21T05:34:58.060-07:00Circus in the clouds - Vue de Monde @ Rialto<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b>Venue: </b>Vue de Monde</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b>Style:</b> Modern French, Molecular Gastronomy</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b>Address:</b> Level 55, Rialto, 525 Collins Street, Melbourne [<a href="http://maps.google.com.au/maps?q=Rialto,+525+Collins+Street,+Melbourne&fb=1&gl=au&cid=0,0,12580958201837882802&z=16&iwloc=A">Google Maps</a>]</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b>Phone:</b> (03) 9691 3888</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b>Hours:</b> Lunch Tue-Fri & Sun 12:00pm-2:00pm / Dinner Mon-Sat 6:00pm-11:00pm</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b>Prices:</b> Lunch Express $60 / A la carte 4 courses $150 / Gastronomes 10+ courses $250</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b>Bookings:</b> Absolutely necessary, should be made <a href="http://www.vuedemonde.com.au/reservation">online</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b>Website:</b> <a href="http://www.vuedemonde.com.au/">http://www.vuedemonde.com.au/</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
If your significant other is anything like me, Vue de Monde may not be the place to take them, unless you like the idea of feeling cuckolded by a plate of brioche.<br />
<br />
At the base of the Rialto, we're a little confused by the numbers in the lift well, which end at level 54. We're approached by a woman in a neat black skirt-suit who advises us she's just sent the elevator up but that it will be back for us shortly. Having checked our booking and muttered into her handheld transceiver, she confirms that <strike>our mission, if we choose to accept it</strike> we may ascend.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<center><img border="1" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-OcWg6ixNVy8/Tjzme5_-PqI/AAAAAAAAANY/HJJNJ2gT8Nc/barluis.jpg" /></center><br />
<br />
The Lui Bar is a stunning space to enjoy pre-dinner drinks of Irish whiskey (1995 Knappogie Castle) and a Negroni, served with blanched almonds in Campari and orange toffee. Unlike the restaurant proper, the bar does not take reservations and is open to all and sundry. And with a snack menu that includes head-scratchers like "Roadkill terrine," I'm bound to pay another visit soon (for investigative purposes, obviously).<br />
<br />
Shannon Bennett's shift to the upper echelons of the Melbourne skyline only see him amplifying the depth and complexity of flavours on show; the food is bolder than ever, which suits the dramatic, low-lit interior and the tables dressed in kangaroo hide. Accents of fur-lined seating and tableware fashioned out of vine sticks and river stones are all the more rugged looking, set against the yawning, glittering view across the city.<br />
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<br />
<br />
<center><img border="1" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-ZZbUPhtjMk8/Tjzd8m72CpI/AAAAAAAAAK0/-JM0jpkHYcQ/poleposition.jpg" /></center><br />
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<br />
<center><img border="1" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-xznUjy5BR88/TjzfovlghnI/AAAAAAAAAMA/TmMUEKYg_ys/interior.jpg" /></center><br />
<br />
It is a given that my attitude towards this establishment is rapturous. After Shannon visits our table to welcome us and finish plating the first course, I explain to my darling Dom that the guy is a rock star as far as I'm concerned. This is Dom's first time at Vue de Monde and while his lust for food is on par with my own, he has no taste for pretension and spends much of the evening sweetly mocking me.<br />
<br />
To wit, we're both stumped by the coin-slot openings in some of the river rocks on our table. The waitress clarifies that they're for holding steak knives, but Dom has already decided that they resemble something less than savoury.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-KiIOLyIhGUM/TjzWvN4CWYI/AAAAAAAAAHk/zwZOz1h7_1I/questionablerock.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-KiIOLyIhGUM/TjzWvN4CWYI/AAAAAAAAAHk/zwZOz1h7_1I/questionablerock.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You decide</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
The meal begins with five different amuse bouche:<br />
<ul><li>crisps with mayonnaise,<br />
</li>
<li>crunchy pumpkin pieces,<br />
</li>
<li>smoked eel encased in white chocolate and topped with caviar,<br />
</li>
<li>venison tartare sandwiched between dried wagyu, and<br />
</li>
<li>translucent pouches of oyster and lime.</li>
</ul><br />
Dom places the venison sandwich in his mouth and asks if we might have ten more of those. He is also impressed by the smoked eel and white chocolate, which I am enjoying for the second time with its lip-smacking combination of salty, oily, smoky and sweet. The pumpkin pieces are bland by comparison, but the crunch has its place amongst the softer appetisers. <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-OulEidzPexY/TjznkpGK7xI/AAAAAAAAAOI/hgGQrt8gIdM/nibblies.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-OulEidzPexY/TjznkpGK7xI/AAAAAAAAAOI/hgGQrt8gIdM/nibblies.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mixed amuse bouche</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
Finished with a grating of lime zest, a plate of spanner crab is crunchy, salty and bright, the kind of delicate opening to a meal that I favour. Dom can take it or leave it and is having a much better time with the hot, plush sourdough and quenelle of cultured butter at the centre of the table. <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-i-OIrXaQQxE/TjzcC2en3JI/AAAAAAAAAKU/bJDAg5Hqmmc/spannercrab.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-i-OIrXaQQxE/TjzcC2en3JI/AAAAAAAAAKU/bJDAg5Hqmmc/spannercrab.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Spanner crab, broccoli, beetroot, crustacean dressing</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
Our attendant returns with the Cona Vacuum Coffee Percolator and I assume we're to enjoy VDM's signature bouillabaisse, but the broth is too dark for that and the upper chamber contains pine needles. New plates are placed before us, with a selection of mixed mushrooms (wild, pine, enoki) and we're told that the kitchen staff refer to this dish as a 'walk through the forest.' <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-wIJZMQj6nGw/TjzesiQoI7I/AAAAAAAAALg/KqDduvm8hh8/mushroom_infusing2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-wIJZMQj6nGw/TjzesiQoI7I/AAAAAAAAALg/KqDduvm8hh8/mushroom_infusing2.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Percolating pine needles...</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
This was a polarising dish. I didn't drool all over myself per se but I found the aroma and depth of the broth to be very seductive. The pine needle flavour was definitely there, as well as a caramel-sweetness and some nuttiness. Perhaps it was too aggressive for Dom, because while he finished off the whole mushrooms, he insisted I finish his broth, as I clearly enjoyed it far more (he also maintains that he needs a much fancier spoon to eat with). <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-vfUHvATvpx4/TjzlT1Y9g6I/AAAAAAAAAMo/ufAdf1U9WZA/mushroom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-vfUHvATvpx4/TjzlT1Y9g6I/AAAAAAAAAMo/ufAdf1U9WZA/mushroom.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pine mushrooms, walnuts, bird's cress, cona infusion</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
The last time I enjoyed VDM's extravagant surf and turf, I ate each component separately. I can safely say now that eating all three parts at once is the way to go, even though it means the experience is a little briefer. The marron remains the veritable king of crustacea, with its meaty flesh that is less sweet and more savoury; I slather it in the hazelnut butter and crown it with the beef sandwich. <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-UUHid_y4Jqo/TjzZH0nlhBI/AAAAAAAAAJA/nUsYwFOa4nY/marron.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-UUHid_y4Jqo/TjzZH0nlhBI/AAAAAAAAAJA/nUsYwFOa4nY/marron.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Marron, beef tongue, brown butter emulsion</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
As for the next course, be still, my beating heart. I'd had a variant on this dish before but it's been refined and the sex has been amped up, with the depth of flavour of the onion jus, the creaminess of the purée, richness of the egg and the decadent earthiness of the truffle shavings ricocheting around my mouth like a culinary multiple orgasm. <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-YZ3w6uKggiQ/TjzpHlW_0gI/AAAAAAAAAPI/Xk9NWPONUck/duckegg_truffling2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-YZ3w6uKggiQ/TjzpHlW_0gI/AAAAAAAAAPI/Xk9NWPONUck/duckegg_truffling2.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fried duck egg, lamb sweetbreads, pickled onion and fresh black truffle</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<br />
<br />
<center><img border="1" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-mafuH-78Pyo/Tjzoh_aKosI/AAAAAAAAAOw/XuLcsrU-PmA/duckegg_closeup.jpg" /></center><br />
<div><br />
</div>Along with our cutlery being reset, we receive, without a word, a wooden pestle...<br />
<div> <br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-trnoQtXRYI8/TjzeX_O9e1I/AAAAAAAAALM/KXxQ8a6QatA/pestle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-trnoQtXRYI8/TjzeX_O9e1I/AAAAAAAAALM/KXxQ8a6QatA/pestle.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mystery pestle</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
We're each served a bowl that is pretty as a picture, which is ironic in that I didn't have time to capture a photograph of it. A mix of miniature flowers and herbs is finished with a cascade of dry ice, which we're then asked to grind up using our pestles. Once reduced to a fine-ish powder, scoops of cucumber sorbet are placed on top, forming our delightful palate cleanser course. <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-Rcwc_M1dO2I/TjzYppNTEHI/AAAAAAAAAIk/h9DJ4uu9ZD8/sorbet.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-Rcwc_M1dO2I/TjzYppNTEHI/AAAAAAAAAIk/h9DJ4uu9ZD8/sorbet.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cucumber sorbet, crushed herbs</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
Having taken a break on the outside balcony, we reconvene for the arrival of one of the stars of the evening. The colour says it all: perfectly seasoned, succulent, yielding kangaroo flesh, with crisp accompaniments and the conversation ceases as we eat with gusto. Unfortunately, the daubs of lemon mousse are a misfire, much too bitter and tasting of a chemistry set. <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-ouop5FiGS9Y/TjzYTIfSj8I/AAAAAAAAAIY/TbxzObhuMHw/game.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-ouop5FiGS9Y/TjzYTIfSj8I/AAAAAAAAAIY/TbxzObhuMHw/game.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kangaroo, radish, swede, turnip, lemon</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
Thoughts of misfires evaporate however with our final savoury course: pieces of Blackmore wagyu beef finished with cherry sauce, crisp chestnut slices and fragrant garlic foam. I closed my eyes and chewed each piece well beyond what was necessary to aid digestion. I did not want the experience of eating this beef to end. Flavour to make your knees weak and luxurious marbling. <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-SNKA07EB-2c/TjzXvuh4iWI/AAAAAAAAAII/8hVhNtsUW84/wagyu.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-SNKA07EB-2c/TjzXvuh4iWI/AAAAAAAAAII/8hVhNtsUW84/wagyu.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Blackmore wagyu beef, chestnut, wild garlic, cherries</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
As for dessert, I ask our attendant to surprise me. In the meantime, Dom discusses options for a cheese plate.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-MYQaeRF_7u0/TjzmIaR9sdI/AAAAAAAAANE/fEEUKVkkpXY/cheesedisplay.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-MYQaeRF_7u0/TjzmIaR9sdI/AAAAAAAAANE/fEEUKVkkpXY/cheesedisplay.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cheese chatter</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
His selection includes a mild goat's cheese, a rich and creamy Délice de Bourgogne, a sharp gruyeres and a very generous piece of unpasteurised Roquefort. Accompaniments include pear mousse, rhubarb in syrup, apple matchsticks and candied fruits, with the fig really standing out. The unpasteurised cheese is like no blue we've tried before, exceedingly moist and a little bit fizzy in the mouth. Dom prefers the gruyeres for its wonderful sharpness, whilst I cannot get enough of the Roquefort. <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-d9UV68G7OnY/TjzZuoI7WFI/AAAAAAAAAJU/RH47GcR0heg/cheese.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-d9UV68G7OnY/TjzZuoI7WFI/AAAAAAAAAJU/RH47GcR0heg/cheese.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mixed confit, cheese selection of goat's, Delice de Bourgogne, gruyère & unpasteurised Roquefort</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
For dessert, I receive a VDM classic: their elegant chocolate soufflé finished with warm crème anglaise, spiked with plenty of vanilla. It wobbles slightly as my spoon dips in, coming up with a big helping of soufflé, sauce and crème. <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-4y2NQdj7yyw/TjzaV-qJhFI/AAAAAAAAAJw/pqfGpT8nm8U/souffle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-4y2NQdj7yyw/TjzaV-qJhFI/AAAAAAAAAJw/pqfGpT8nm8U/souffle.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chocolate soufflé with chocolate sauce...</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-7jZSioNWNBQ/TjzaSgkXqfI/AAAAAAAAAJo/LkNHD6KXhIM/souffle4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-7jZSioNWNBQ/TjzaSgkXqfI/AAAAAAAAAJo/LkNHD6KXhIM/souffle4.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...finished with warm crème anglaise</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
In spite of the fact that we're too full to even consider tea and coffee, our attendant brings us a selection of gorgeous petits fours anyway. She really ought not to have done so, because Dom does not have a sweet tooth and I am just about forced to eat them myself, as I cannot abide waste. The slippery, sweet and sour lemon jub-jubs return along with thyme marshmallow puffs and "lamingtons," which are actually little squares of chocolate mousse topped with jam and coated in coconut. New to me is the VDM Golden Gaytime, a little bite of buttery smooth ice-cream with a crunchy coating. <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-UXFpuK2Npyk/TjzkgqhDCiI/AAAAAAAAAMU/V7G20_nimlw/petitfours.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-UXFpuK2Npyk/TjzkgqhDCiI/AAAAAAAAAMU/V7G20_nimlw/petitfours.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Petits fours</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
With another exquisite meal at Vue de Monde at an end, I'm interested to know Dom's thoughts. While not everything was to his taste and he would have preferred double helpings of anything featuring meat, he called it an experience like nothing he'd had before. The circus claims another disciple.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<center><img border="1" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-fvJS735Vz5g/TjzfoMcdtkI/AAAAAAAAAL8/7UTLnOJPtfU/interior2.jpg" /></center><center><br />
</center> <center><img border="1" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-XXjQ53nafG0/TjznHhup_vI/AAAAAAAAANs/Nc5XTwd5vH4/bar.jpg" /></center><center><br />
</center> <center><img border="1" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-oSjG5hl-_Ak/TjznIU4B65I/AAAAAAAAANw/2WHWuPrL0fQ/barluis2.jpg" /></center><center><br />
</center> <center><img border="1" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-anPBFRsh_dE/TjzXTInvNFI/AAAAAAAAAHw/yD3A8ImZ3zU/overthere.jpg" /></center><center><br />
</center><center><br />
</center> <a href="http://www.urbanspoon.com/r/71/762025/restaurant/Victoria/CBD/Vue-de-monde-Melbourne"><img alt="Vue de monde on Urbanspoon" src="http://www.urbanspoon.com/b/link/762025/biglink.gif" style="border: none; height: 146px; width: 200px;" /></a></div>Plate Lickerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11040573412122698464noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1393070392493923175.post-39061077930272580762011-07-28T02:58:00.000-07:002011-07-28T09:40:36.395-07:00Red Spice Road to ruin<b>Venue: </b>Red Spice Road<br />
<b>Style:</b> Thai, Vietnamese, South East Asian<br />
<b>Address:</b> 27 McKillop Street, Melbourne [<a href="http://maps.google.com.au/maps?q=27+McKillop+Street,+Melbourne&gl=au&z=16" target="_blank">Google Maps</a>]<br />
<b>Phone:</b> (03) 9603 1601<br />
<b>Hours:</b> Lunch Mon-Sat 12:00pm-3:00pm / Dinner Mon-Fri 5:00pm-late, Sat 6:00pm-late<br />
<b>Prices:</b> Set Lunch $25 / Banquets $45-$75 / E $4.50-13.50, M $26-38, D $13-15<br />
<b>Bookings:</b> Necessary, telephone or <a href="http://www.bookarestaurant.com/details/Red-Spice-Road/444?ref=BAR00444R" target="_blank">online</a><br />
<b>Website:</b> <a href="http://www.redspiceroad.com/" target="_blsnk">http://www.redspiceroad.com/</a><br />
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<center><img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-xfkbNB1GlS4/TjEiHpB9FzI/AAAAAAAAAGU/CTSmUSwk5bo/RSRinterior.jpg" border="1"></center><br />
<br />
<b>GLUTTON</b>, <i>n.</i> A person who escapes the evils of moderation by committing dyspepsia.<br />
<div align="right">~ The Devil's Dictionary (C) 1911</div><br />
Between the dim lighting, red accents and walls lined with comely maidens who've misplaced their shirts, Red Spice Road has the look of a den of iniquity. The sexy and raucous atmosphere coupled with the diverse scents emanating from the kitchen lulled me into a sense of abandonment I've not felt in some time (the 2010 Balgownie pinor noir probably played a part, cheap drunk that I am) and I gave my lustful appetite free reign. While the meal didn't qualify as a 10, our table discerning a number of missteps, you certainly wouldn't kick this one out of bed (perhaps my mixing of metaphors should cease here).<br />
<br />
<center><img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-jtRY6pPjcTI/TjEiGf_O30I/AAAAAAAAAGM/c0h16X5A4O8/RSRinterior4.jpg" border="1"></center><br />
<br />
<center><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-O0lH5Legt2s/TjEiF7o-DYI/AAAAAAAAAGI/5Gl13P1D8og/RSRinterior2.jpg" border="1"></center><br />
<br />
A starter of lamb ribs crumbed in chilli salt and cumin meets with universal acclaim. Will expresses a desire to forgo the rest of the menu in favour of MORE RIBS, as the meat is so soft and perfectly seasoned. I look forward to enjoying this dish in summer with a Belgian white ale.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-h1ngPbukAlI/TjEiHh2ZhII/AAAAAAAAAGQ/TTGXMxgEStA/RSRlambribs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-h1ngPbukAlI/TjEiHh2ZhII/AAAAAAAAAGQ/TTGXMxgEStA/RSRlambribs.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lamb ribs with chilli salt, cumin and coriander</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-X96xFfzAgqI/TjEiHynpIPI/AAAAAAAAAGY/BQ9DWV0tOts/RSRlambribs_aftermath.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-X96xFfzAgqI/TjEiHynpIPI/AAAAAAAAAGY/BQ9DWV0tOts/RSRlambribs_aftermath.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">..no morsel left behind</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
Our three shared mains along with fragrant rice arrived shortly thereafter, including a Panaeng (sic) curry of venison shank, soft shell crab salad and Red Spice Road's lauded signature dish of pork belly with apple slaw, chilli caramel and black vinegar.<br />
<br />
<center><img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-nfUu59oS_-4/TjEiET6GS4I/AAAAAAAAAF0/VjxYVsCRRkY/RSRvenison2_sidebyside.jpg" border="1"> <img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-glFmmeW0upY/TjEiIQNSgzI/AAAAAAAAAGc/xq_xUMVPbyY/RSRpork_sidebyside.jpg" border="1"></center><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-ygCMcDHV_NM/TjEiEVRMxOI/AAAAAAAAAF8/Zi7ykhroasQ/RSRcrab.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-ygCMcDHV_NM/TjEiEVRMxOI/AAAAAAAAAF8/Zi7ykhroasQ/RSRcrab.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Soft-shell crab salad of green papaya, peanut and tomato</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
I fail to detect much papaya in the accompanying salad but the soft-shell crab is beautifully crisp on the outside, tender on the inside and quickly annihilated.<br />
<br />
We move on to the pork belly, divided into neatly-sized mouthfuls that are entirely deserving of rave reviews. Despite being partially immersed in the slaw dressing, the pork retains firmness and has a luscious mouthfeel, offset by the sweet and sour of the apple and vinegar, respectively. <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-AfF6o4Wkuh0/TjEiEUp88jI/AAAAAAAAAF4/iSSQ2F_uUgQ/RSRvenison.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-AfF6o4Wkuh0/TjEiEUp88jI/AAAAAAAAAF4/iSSQ2F_uUgQ/RSRvenison.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Venison shank Panaeng curry with kipfler potatoes</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
However, it was the venison shank curry that proved to be my undoing. Unorthodox spelling aside (Panaeng?), this plate of food was so comprehensively pleasing that I ignored the fact that I was full and forged on. Like the ribs, the venison had been cooked until it was almost slipping from the bone. A mouthful of meat, curry sauce, potato, nuts and coriander was rich, crunchy and fresh-tasting, with the gentle flavour of coconut also coming through.<br />
<br />
At this point, the only disappointment was that our second serve of rice was overcooked - tragically mushy.<br />
<br />
The guys insisted upon ordering dessert, which I was receptive to provided we were sharing. I hiccuped and thought ruefully of the 'gluttony' scene in <i>Seven</i>...<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-85tXfESWYOA/TjEiFhrNI5I/AAAAAAAAAGE/RSMc_QhVnrI/RSRdesserts.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-85tXfESWYOA/TjEiFhrNI5I/AAAAAAAAAGE/RSMc_QhVnrI/RSRdesserts.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lemongrass pannacotta, watermelon jelly, mango marshmallow and peanut praline / Lychee-filled doughnuts with palm sugar and coconut ice-cream </td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
Sadly, the lemongrass pannacotta was a bimbo of a dessert: pretty as a picture and bland, with no lemongrass registering. Both watermelon constituents also lacked taste and the peanut praline was of such negligible quantity as to be worthless.<br />
<br />
Fortunately for our tastebuds (and unfortunately for my stomach), the lychee-filled doughnuts made for an inspired dessert. I've never before seen doughnuts stuffed with whole fruit; the dough had obviously been fried rapidly, leaving a light outer layer that gave way to the bright juiciness within. Additional fresh lychees flanked quenelles of coconut ice-cream.<br />
<br />
There is a great deal to like about Red Spice Road, not least of all the generosity of flavour and serving sizes. I should also mention that most seating is communal, which is a set-up I quite enjoy, although in this instance, I suspect the party atmosphere contributed to my excesses.<br />
<br />
So it was that I ate with alacrity and lost my head...and my appetite for the next 16 hours.<br />
<br />
<center><img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-c4-NGoq3rJ0/TjEiFE_rPlI/AAAAAAAAAGA/4WlvVy49uB0/RSRdessert_clean.jpg" border="1"></center><br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.urbanspoon.com/r/71/761595/restaurant/Victoria/CBD/Red-Spice-Road-Melbourne"><img alt="Red Spice Road on Urbanspoon" src="http://www.urbanspoon.com/b/link/761595/biglink.gif" style="border:none;width:200px;height:146px" /></a>Plate Lickerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11040573412122698464noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1393070392493923175.post-77924913652090586562011-07-24T09:35:00.000-07:002011-08-21T05:43:22.615-07:00And I, for one, welcome our new zombie overlords<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-24FV3EnFgBQ/Tiw8tN57TNI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/amioZfLnSGI/brains.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-24FV3EnFgBQ/Tiw8tN57TNI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/amioZfLnSGI/brains.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rose and vanilla infused pannacotta with pomegranate sauce</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
The popular consciousness' preferred symbol of terror, the vampire, has been challenged in recent years by the spectre of the zombie. No longer a relic of genre films or a stock character in an Ed Wood production, the zombie can now be relied upon as a true agent of horror, in the wake of <a href="http://www.motifake.com/image/demotivational-poster/0907/vampires-they-now-play-baseball-vampires-twilight-baseball-s-demotivational-poster-1248316447.jpg" target="_blank">the vampire's softening up</a>. Nowadays, however, zombies are not merely the preoccupation of film studio executives; between Carleton University's <a href="http://mysite.science.uottawa.ca/rsmith43/Zombies.pdf" target="_blank">mathematical analysis of a zombie infection outbreak</a> and the US Centers for Disease Control and Prevention's <a href="http://emergency.cdc.gov/socialmedia/zombies_blog.asp" target="_blank">suggestions around how to be prepared for a zombie-related emergency</a>, serious thought is being devoted to the idea of a <i>zombie apocalypse</i>.<br />
<br />
So in the interests of being ready and well fed (because you cannot be the former without the latter), our friend Cheryl marked her birthday with a gory bash consisting of:<br />
<br />
- brain hemorrhage shots,<br />
- brain-bowl soup of hollowed out rolls filled with 'grey matter' (potato and leek),<br />
- eyeball arancini (firm mushroom risotto balls with a black olive 'eye'),<br />
- bloodied (sauced) chicken fingers with melted cheese, and<br />
- an appalling-looking rose and vanilla infused pannacotta lashed with pomegranate sauce.<br />
<br />
I had my heart set on making gravesite-inspired cupcakes, with miniature plastic hands emerging from the surface, but alas, plastic hands eluded me and going all Ed Gein on a dozen Barbie dolls seemed like a lot of work for something you can't actually eat.<br />
<br />
I settled on edible gravestones instead and made up the following, adapted from my mother's flourless chocolate cake recipe which makes for the sexiest, richest consistency, better than anything made with flour (although she is amenable to the living dead, Cheryl cannot tolerate gluten).<br />
<br />
Added inspiration for this treat and some of the techniques are derived from the <a href="http://www.cupcakeblog.com/" target="_blank">Cupcake Bakeshop blog</a>, a testament to baked goods as both pornography and conduit for experimentation.<br />
<br />
<h3>Flourless chocolate gravecakes w/ spiced pumpkin mousse</h3><i>Makes 22 cupcakes</i><br />
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<center><img border="1" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-k0UhaTsUVS4/Tiw8tetzUnI/AAAAAAAAAFU/II-4dufxvys/gravecakes.jpg" /></center><br />
<br />
<b>Ingredients:</b><br />
<br />
<i>Decoration</i><br />
150g LSA mix (a ground mixture of linseed, sunflower seeds and almonds, find it in the Health Food section)<br />
Biscuits suitable to make headstones (I used 11 of Eskal's gluten-free vanilla tea biscuits, with their little borders resembling funerary decoration, though I did have to scrape off the little coffee cup impressions with a knife)<br />
Green food dye<br />
1 cup pure icing sugar<br />
90g softened unsalted butter<br />
1 tbsp milk<br />
<br />
<i>Spiced pumpkin mousse</i><br />
150g pumpkin, seeds and skin discarded and flesh grated, cooked, pureed and cooled<br />
250g double cream<br />
1 egg white<br />
50g brown sugar<br />
2 tsp ground allspice<br />
<br />
<i>Cupcakes</i><br />
200g softened unsalted butter<br />
8 eggs<br />
200g dark chocolate, broken into pieces<br />
300g hazlenut meal<br />
1 cup caster sugar<br />
<br />
<b>Method:</b><br />
<br />
<i>Decoration</i><br />
1) Beat butter with an electric mixer until pale and soft. Gradually add sugar and milk until combined.<br />
2) Add a drop of green food dye and combine, adding more for colour, depending on how green you like your icing.<br />
3) Refrigerate.<br />
4) To make headstones, use a sharp knife to split biscuits in two; if you can be bothered, use the tip of the knife to inscribe "RIP" or little crucifixes - or the names of your friends if you want to be cute.<br />
<br />
<i>Spiced pumpkin mousse</i><br />
1) Ensure pumpkin flesh has been reserved, grated, cooked until soft, pureed and cooled.<br />
2) Beat egg white until glossy and stiff and gradually add sugar to form a meringue, set aside.<br />
3) In another bowl, beat cream to whipped and gently stir pumpkin through with a spoon until combined - <u>do not do this if the pumpkin is hot</u>. Warm is ok; don't be alarmed if it looks entirely unappealing, remember, it's going to be hidden inside the cupcakes.<br />
4) Stir allspice through, add more if desired.<br />
5) Fold meringue through pumpkin mixture and chill in fridge.<br />
<br />
<i>Cupcakes</i><br />
1) Preheat a fan-forced oven to 180°C / 356°F.<br />
2) Melt chocolate and butter together over a double boiler, stirring with a wooden spoon and set aside to cool.<br />
3) Separate the eggs into two metal bowls and beat whites to stiff peaks; set aside.<br />
4) Beat sugar into yolks until pale and stir in cooled chocolate until combined - don't overmix.<br />
5) Fold hazlenut meal and then egg whites into the chocolate mixture.<br />
6) Distribute between cupcake liners and bake for about 20 minutes, depending on the efficiency of your oven - test that they're cooked by inserting a metal skewer and checking it comes out clean. Set aside to cool.<br />
<br />
<b>Assembly:</b><br />
<br />
1) Take a cupcake and using a short, sharp knife, cut around the top of the cupcake at an angle, making an upside-down cone. Lift out and cut off the cone, so that you are left with a flat, round cupcake "lid".<br />
2) Place a spoon of spiced pumpkin mousse inside the cupcake and replace lid.<br />
3) Grease the top of the lid with a little butter or spray oil and sprinkle LSA mix to cover; pat LSA mix down as necessary.<br />
4) Gently insert biscuit headstones; you may need to hold your lid down as you do this so that it does not become upended.<br />
5) Green icing can be applied around the edging with a knife and blades of grass can be made using a fork; I used a piping kit with a star tip to make an edging of green rosettes.Plate Lickerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11040573412122698464noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1393070392493923175.post-15078930233245367432011-05-22T16:55:00.000-07:002011-07-28T22:01:06.320-07:00glutto-NY: Dispatches from a jet-setting stomach<b>Venue:</b> Café Boulud<br />
<b>Style:</b> French Asian fusion<br />
<b>Address:</b> 20 East 76th Street, New York, NY, 10021 [<a href="http://maps.google.com/maps?q=cafe+boulud&oe=utf-8&client=firefox-a&ie=UTF8&hl=en&z=16" target="_blank">Google Maps</a>]<br />
<b>Phone:</b> +1 212 772 2600<br />
<b>Hours:</b> 7:00am-10:00am, 12:00pm-2:30pm, 5:45pm-10:30pm (Sun from 8:00am)<br />
<b>Prices:</b> 3-course Lunch $38 / 7-course Degustation $125 / E $16-28, M $34-48, D $10-28<br />
<b>Bookings:</b> Yes, telephone or online<br />
<b>Website:</b> <a href="http://www.danielnyc.com/cafebouludNY.html" target="_blank">http://www.danielnyc.com/cafebouludNY.html</a><br />
<br />
<b>Note:</b> <i>All opinions expressed herein are solely those of my stomach and do not reflect the opinions of my brain, heart or any other component within my personal make-up that exerts influence over my behaviour.<br />
</i> <br />
<br />
Soren Kierkegaard wrote, "People commonly travel the world over to see rivers and mountains, new stars, garish birds, freak fish, grotesque breeds of human; they fall into an animal stupor that gapes at existence and they think they have seen something."<br />
<br />
Presumably, Kierkegaard would not have been the type vying for a seat aboard one of the many Hop-On-Hop-Off sightseeing buses that offer visitors an abridged experience of New York City. Even I, a mere stomach, principally concerned with sustenance and other perfunctory tasks as I am, cannot imagine the character of a city being unearthed in this way. Now I don't always see eye-to-eye with my fellow organs when it comes to priorities, but if there's something that the brain and I absolutely agree upon, it is this: the experience of traveling is diluted when it is reduced to a series of boxes to be checked off.<br />
<br />
So of course I was less then pleased today when a visit to the Frick Collection spanned more than two hours. Two FRICKING hours! Apparently the brain erroneously imagined that the heart and soul of New York City was going to be found in a museum loaded with EUROPEAN artwork (a mere two American artists rated appearances amongst the cavalcade of German and Italian masters). The gallery was formerly the opulent residence of industrialist Henry Clay Frick, so I was afforded a moment's entertainment when we set foot into the formal dining room, where we learned about the dinners Frick once hosted, usually to 20+ male guests, who might have enjoyed caviar, sweetbreads braised in mushrooms, roasted pheasant and strawberry tart.<br />
<br />
Indeed, there is much to be understood about people, history and places in terms of what was being eaten and by who. Frick's mansion, like the meals served therein, is a relic of what it used to mean to be wealthy in America. The definition, like the aforementioned menu, has been transformed into something considerably different. To wit, having left the museum in search of lunch, I exerted my discerning influence such that we wound up at Café Boulud, where even someone of modest means today can eat like the aristocracy of yesteryear. Say what you will of capitalism, but was truffle butter ever going to be made available to the masses under socialism? I think not.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-b0rXG3kkha8/Tiwj77C39MI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bgRQGOCYhcw/s576/CBAmuse.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-b0rXG3kkha8/Tiwj77C39MI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bgRQGOCYhcw/s576/CBAmuse.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Amuse bouche of arancini</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
Café Boulud is a solid example of what it means to be moneyed and unpretentious, where the food stands as an elegant tribute to modern French cooking and the wait staff treat you like royalty. Case in point, the feet on which I depend to ferry me between restaurants were clothed in a truly unappetising pair of sneakers today, however, the maître d' did not miss a beat in his warm welcome.<br />
<br />
While perusing the prix fixe options, a complimentary baguette landed upon the table, along with a loaf of quality, cultured butter. I had thought up until now that bread was just not something that New York City diners place much importance on, given that up until today, every last piece had been somewhere between "OK" and "balsa wood." Adding even further weight to this argument is the fame achieved by Magnolia Bakery, where hypercolour butter-cream frosting takes precedence over actual baking technique. So I was pleased to find the baguette was of artisan standards, crusty, yielding and plush on the inside (it was also gigantic, so of course I wrapped up three-quarters of it and stashed it in my handbag for later). <br />
<br />
A starter of cold soba noodle salad epitomises the fusion of French technique and Asian flavour; the soft noodles glisten with a delicate sesame dressing and are finished with a scattering of peanuts. Firm little bites of shiitake mushroom and crunchy scallions make for a balanced dish, diverse in texture.<br />
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<center><img src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-nvL-pjDpUx0/TiwfVKhJOZI/AAAAAAAAADs/2dnJZgrg9qM/s576/CBNoooodles.jpg" border="1"></center><br />
<br />
As tempted as I was to order yet another steak, after two profoundly impressive experiences already, I cajoled myself into trying something else, to see if surf 'n' turf is something that New York takes as seriously. A course of pan-seared salmon wrapped in bacon is satisfying if a little unremarkable; the fish is lovely and mild and thus upstaged by the smoky bacon wrapper. Romaine lettuce puree is a little baffling to me, but the cherry tomatoes hiding beneath the greens offer a welcome hit of sweet and sour.<br />
<br />
<center><img src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-ZTPE9RIqdKA/TiwZBTYeYGI/AAAAAAAAACk/IuOzIulx22M/s512/Salmon.jpg" border="1"></center><br />
<br />
Characteristically, I am not terribly interested in dessert, but I relent on the basis that I need to examine how NYC does high-end sweets; "An entirely reasonable justification," brain chimes in. Well. Showcased in the dessert course is Jivara chocolate, famed for its velvety texture and hints of malt. Boulud serves it as a mousse, along with a whipped coffee ganache, chocolate Grand Marnier foam and nougat ice-cream. It's lust on a plate, with a dozen techniques being showcased. From the airy foam to the dense, thin layer of cake beneath the mousse, this luxurious dessert was a veritable sampling of four miniature sweets at once. And in the midst of my rapturous state, brain could be heard, far away, muttering, "Aren't we glad we've been walking everywhere? Another on-foot jaunt from W. 104th to Times Square should do the trick."<br />
<br />
<center><img src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-yZ5WTPtpOX0/TiwbfvaRc_I/AAAAAAAAACs/XMp8ve-IuzM/CBDessert2.jpg" border="1"></center><br />
<br />
To finish, a decent macchiato and a complimentary bowl of feather-light madeleines, citrusy and warm from the oven, bringing the meal to a magnificent conclusion and ensuring that I will not be in need of dinner.<br />
<br />
<center><img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-9ebQUZm3qL0/TiwhGCoAFjI/AAAAAAAAAEE/vlwaRS8bYXI/s576/CBMadeleines.jpg" border="1"></center><br />
<br />
It would be a mistake however to imagine that this sort of meal is the norm in New York City, despite Café Boulud being pitched as a casual dining destination. It tells a story about a certain kind of diner, but when you're working on acquainting yourself with the soul of a city that has to feed around 20 million residents and almost 50 million tourists annually, you need to immerse yourself in a great many stories. The sheer ubiquity of options is astounding, no matter what part of the city you are in or what the time is.<br />
<br />
Things I've learned so far?<br />
<br />
<ul><li>New York takes its steak very seriously;<br />
<li>Capitalism triumphs once more by the healthful demands of the market prompting someone to open a place called Chop't, selling some of the sexiest salad I've ever inhaled;<br />
<li>I will always and forever more side with multiculturalism, if for no other reason that I can dine on $2 Colombian snacks on Friday, Jewish knishes at the deli on Saturday and high-end French-influenced South East Asian fare on Monday (booked in as I am at Jean-Georges Vongerichten's Spice Market);<br />
<li>New York apparently has the highest density of Starbucks of anywhere in the United States and they always appear to be busy, belying an attitude to coffee that is less concerned with espresso than it is serving sizes and syrups (but then I suspected this when I worked for them as a teenager, watching them all but fail in Melbourne, where quality coffee has been known to inspire behaviour also recognisable amongst cults).<br />
</ul><br>
Where I lay my fork is home.<br> <br> <a href="http://www.urbanspoon.com/r/3/23620/restaurant/Upper-East-Side/Cafe-Boulud-New-York"><img alt="Café Boulud on Urbanspoon" src="http://www.urbanspoon.com/b/link/23620/biglink.gif" style="border:none;width:200px;height:146px" /></a>Plate Lickerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11040573412122698464noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1393070392493923175.post-29304944486182501012011-04-15T08:28:00.000-07:002011-07-28T05:46:01.668-07:00Fine dining identity crisis?<b>Venue:</b> Marquee Restaurant Bar<br />
<b>Style:</b> Modern European<br />
<b>Address:</b> Trak Centre, 445 Toorak Road, Toorak [<a href="http://maps.google.com.au/maps?f=q&source=s_q&hl=en&geocode=&q=445+Toorak+Road,+Toorak&aq=&sll=-25.335448,135.745076&sspn=60.101648,79.013672&ie=UTF8&hq=&hnear=445+Toorak+Rd,+Toorak+Victoria+3142&z=17" target="_blank">Google Maps</a>]<br />
<b>Phone:</b> (03) 9827 7938<br />
<b>Hours:</b> Tue 5:00pm-11:30pm, Wed-Sat 5:00pm-11:00pm<br />
<b>Prices:</b> E $11-25, M $16-39, D $12-25<br />
<b>Bookings:</b> Yes, telephone<br />
<b>Website:</b> <a href="http://www.acemelbourne.com.au/marquee" target="_blank">http://www.acemelbourne.com.au/marquee</a><br />
<br />
Caustic restaurant critic A.A. Gill observed that people are not compelled to eat out because they are hungry; a diner is driven by a number of unconscious considerations, "hospitality, atmosphere, a feeling of largess and a sense of comfort, to be with friends, to have a mise-en-place that reflects on them."<br />
<br />
Irrespective of the style and quality of the food being served, a new restaurant may find itself hamstrung from the get-go by positioning itself inappropriately. Of course, there is the exception to the rule: Shannon Bennett's Vue de Monde first opened its doors in a small space in Carlton that was described by one reviewer as resembling a toilet block. Bennett however is just that - an exception; where he is about to take Vue de Monde to the top of the Rialto, other venues that opened with greater fanfare but no vision are now missing from the pages of Melbourne's surplus food guides.<br />
<br />
If this already sounds as though I am recommending that <i>Marquee Restaurant slash Bar</i> be avoided, that is <b>not</b> the case. However, the name of the venue was obviously not meant to be whimsical so much as literal. The restaurant is housed beneath a sprawling, cream marquee, with delicate pendant lights suspended from the striking, black, iron frame. Glossy timbers, marble and black and brown leather seating make for a very warm, inviting environment. Clearly a lot of money went into the fit-out, in an attempt to make the diner forget that Marquee is housed within Toorak's tiredest shopping centre, where my grandmother used to take me to chat to the girls at the hair salon and waste coins on the gumball machine.<br />
<br />
<center><img src="http://a2.sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-ash4/215424_10150150237351710_646946709_7002920_6300160_n.jpg" border="1" alt="Marquee interior"></center><br />
<br />
It's incongruous with where Marquee is pitching itself, with its Parisian looks, premium offerings and a head chef whose CV sets the bar high (Cecconi's, Vin Cellar, Il Solito Posto and Gordon Ramsay's Maze in London).<br />
<br />
The surest way to forget that you are dining in a shopping centre is to try the wagyu and quail egg burger. Wagyu burgers are so ubiquitous nowadays that it is noteworthy that Marquee's was so memorable, served miniaturised and finished with beetroot, for a rich mouthful of succulent beef and gooey yolk.<br />
<br />
Battered prawns are fine but such things can just as easily be acquired from a fish 'n chip shop (though you'd have to settle for mayonnaise rather than aioli). More exciting are the oysters with champagne sabayon, although I end up downing four of the suckers because these are some unusually small molluscs.<br />
<br />
Dom and I puzzled over Marquee's business card, featuring a bull clothed in a cape. What could it mean? Delving into the menu, we found a rooster in military garb and therein, each facing page featured some creature dressed to the nines. This is telling in its apparent disconnectedness from what Marquee is doing.<br />
<br />
The whole venture seems confused to me, because while the food is good, it is unrelated to the environment (Parisian), the local area (fashionable Toorak) and the head chef's background.<br />
<br />
Years ago, a family friend opened a restaurant in the city, with the intention of offering a classic fine dining experience. Prior to this, she'd operated a respectable restaurant in Frankston that was focused on comfort food. On the evening we dined at the new venue, it was also playing host to a bachelor party. As dessert arrived, so did the stripper. She didn't waste any time, because not a moment after coffee was served, the proprietor's husband emerged from upstairs, clutching his forehead and exclaiming, "What a body!"<br />
<br />
The problem was that this friend was far better at serving hearty European fare than she was fussing over jus and loin of rabbit (and her husband could always be relied on to annihilate a civilised atmosphere).<br />
<br />
Presently, Marquee is a very warm, attractive space where diners can expect confident, flavourful food. It is also worth mentioning that staff members were delightful and attentive. I maintain that the location is a mistake and there's little rhyme or reason behind the menu, but the proprietors may yet tweak the formula and establish a firmer identity.<br />
<br />
Indeed, the strength of the food alone can elevate a restaurateur from humble beginnings, from a toilet block to the heavens.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.urbanspoon.com/r/71/1578981/restaurant/Victoria/South-Yarra-Toorak/Marquee-Restaurant-Melbourne"><img alt="Marquee Restaurant on Urbanspoon" src="http://www.urbanspoon.com/b/link/1578981/biglink.gif" style="border:none;width:200px;height:146px" /></a>Plate Lickerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11040573412122698464noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1393070392493923175.post-63537012068641237222011-04-07T07:25:00.000-07:002011-07-24T07:57:51.984-07:00Bella's delectably moist poppy seed cakeMy late maternal grandmother, Bella, was something of an idiot savant in the kitchen. On the one hand, she could take a piece of raw tongue and transform it into a luscious appetiser, so delicious that all recollection of the sight of it in its raw form - pale and cadaverous, heaped on the benchtop like a prop out of a <i>Cannibal Corpse</i> video clip - vanished. And yet she never failed to burn a cholent, a traditional Jewish peasant food whose very raison d'être is that it is a slow-cooked stew left to simmer for 12 hours. The consistently scorched potatoes never compelled her to turn the oven down (I suppose such stubbornness becomes useful when you're warding off thousands of years of persecution).<br />
<br />
Her cakes however were consistently superb. Testament to this fact is that when my mother brought my father over to meet the family, he cemented a lasting impression by sitting down and eating my grandmother's marbled vanilla chocolate sponge in its entirety. He then proposed that he could make a better cake and returned a week later with his own rendition of a chocolate sponge. Bafflingly, he would not let anyone have a piece; I put this down to a blend of greed and breathtaking disinterest in social etiquette (which has persisted in my father forever more).<br />
<br />
He did not attempt to upstage her when it came to her mighty poppy seed cake, though. The beautiful blue-black seeds are enmeshed with grated apple, juice, sugar and eggs for a cake with delicate flavour and a moist, grainy texture. The finishing touch is a glossy coating of dark chocolate, which functions as more than just a velvety counterpoint to the nutty poppy seed. The cake can be a little tricky to demould sometimes and small segments may become stuck to the pan; the chocolate coating will effectively hide the fallout on the surface of the cake.<br />
<br />
<b>Ingredients:</b><br />
6 eggs, separated<br />
210g caster sugar<br />
250g poppy seed<br />
60g unsalted butter, room temperature<br />
1 green apple, peeled and grated (juice reserved)<br />
1/2 a lemon, juice only<br />
200g dark chocolate (minimum 60% cocoa solids), broken into pieces<br />
Spray oil<br />
<br />
<b>Method:</b><br />
1) Preheat the oven to 350°F / 175°C and spray the innards of a kugelhopf pan [<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QawYyNHEb2E/Stro81_XLnI/AAAAAAAAADo/kmqr3qPJRyQ/s320/002.JPG" target="_blank">a what?</a>].<br />
2) In a large metal bowl, beat the egg whites with an electric mixer at high speed and gradually add the caster sugar until stiff peaks form.<br />
3) Using a spatula, combine yolks in another large bowl with remaining ingredients.<br />
4) Gently fold egg white mixture into yolk and poppyseed mixture until combined and pour into kugelhopf pan.<br />
5) Bake for 35 minutes (this varies depending on your oven; at the 35 minute mark, stick a metal skewer into the cake and if it comes out clean, the cake may be removed).<br />
6) Allow cake to cool and turn out on to a plate.<br />
7) Over a double boiler, gradually melt the chocolate until smooth and glossy. For extra shine, you can add a little bit of corn syrup while cooking. Using a spatula, coat the cake in chocolate sauce.<br />
<br />
<b>Variations:</b><br />
* Orange complements poppy seed very well; consider adding a little orange juice to the mix or decorating the finished cake with orange zest.<br />
* My grandmother wasn't much for spirits, but I am. Sully your chocolate sauce with your liqueur of choice: rum, Grand Marnier, Frangelico, etc.<br />
* American recipes frequently include slivered almonds and are finished with cream cheese frosting.<br />
* For a creamier mouthfeel, consider including ricotta cheese in the cake mix.Plate Lickerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11040573412122698464noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1393070392493923175.post-2752889937299882692011-02-20T07:15:00.000-08:002011-07-28T05:40:31.209-07:00Theatre Restaurants (Vue de Monde, not Dracula's)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b>Venue: </b>Vue de Monde</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b>Style:</b> Modern French, Molecular Gastronomy</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b>Address:</b> Normanby Chambers, 430 Little Collins St, Melbourne [<a href="http://maps.google.com.au/maps?f=q&source=s_q&hl=en&geocode=&q=Normanby+Chambers+430+Little+Collins+St,+Melbourne&sll=-25.335448,135.745076&sspn=52.932158,93.076172&ie=UTF8&hq=Normanby+Chambers&hnear=430+Little+Collins+St,+Melbourne+Victoria+3000&z=16&iwloc=A">Google Maps</a>]</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b>Phone:</b> (03) 9691 3888</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b>Hours:</b> Lunch Tue-Fri & Sun 12:00pm-2:00pm / Dinner Mon-Sat 6:00pm-11:00pm</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b>Prices:</b> Lunch Express $60 / A la carte 4 courses $150 / Gastronomes 10+ courses $250</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b>Bookings:</b> Absolutely necessary, can be made by telephone or <a href="http://vuedemonde.com.au/bookings.aspx">online</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b>Website:</b> <a href="http://www.vuedemonde.com.au/">http://www.vuedemonde.com.au/</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br><b>Note:</b> <i>Vue de Monde has since relocated to Level 55, Rialto, 525 Collins Street, Melbourne</i> [<a href="http://maps.google.com.au/maps?q=Rialto,+525+Collins+Street,+Melbourne&fb=1&gl=au&cid=0,0,12580958201837882802&z=16&iwloc=A" target="_blank">Google Maps</a>]<br><br><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5020/5461505570_5668567b79_z.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5020/5461505570_5668567b79_z.jpg" /></a></div><br />
Once upon a dinner service, I was in the midst of explaining saltimbocca to a guest, when the head chef's voice came bellowing out of the bowels of the kitchen. "Nice work, genius. I'd get more value out of you as sixty kilos of mince than as a sous chef!" Stoicism was not his strong point and while the food he served was delicious, diners were regularly subjected to his theatrics, which occasionally turned into a front-of-house floorshow, provided we'd all been too busy to keep count of his vodka shots.<br />
<br />
Melbourne's Vue de Monde was one of the first restaurants to introduce me to dining as adventure. Six years ago, I wrote that eating there had cemented my curiosity about food and my desire to step outside of my culinary comfort zone. VDM is the lovechild of the dining room and the circus, with all the promise of a formal meal service punctuated by moments of wonder and spectacle. And with a kitchen that is set up like a stage, lit up and imposing on the dining room, guests may marvel at chefs who juggle, tame wily sauces and traverse a tightrope of logistics, never breaking a sweat or resorting to Wyborowa-fuelled tirades (not during service, anyway).<br />
<br />
Having been subjected to my rapturous blathering about The Culinary Temple over the years, an old friend of mine, newly arrived from New Zealand, suggested we pay VDM a visit. He didn't exactly have to twist my arm, as I always look forward to an opportunity to see what new dishes the kitchen has come up with (I didn't always feel so comfortable at VDM; the first time I visited, the opulence of the entrance hall alone made me feel small and unimportant – I was waiting for the maitre d' to address me in a manner similar to that which Homer Simpson is greeted with when he attempts to visit a swanky bar: "Good evening, sir. Would you please leave without a fuss right now?").<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5097/5460902651_c86cef0eeb_z.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5097/5460902651_c86cef0eeb_z.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Show plate w/ Campari & soda</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fancy handmade chips with fancily dolloped dip</td></tr>
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</div><div>The amuse bouche ("mouth amusement") of smoked eel arrived in style atop a slab of rock. Encased in a thin shell of white chocolate and topped with black caviar, this taster was equal parts oily, smoky and creamy, with touches of sweetness and saltiness. Consider my palate primed.</div><div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5254/5461505842_eea11aa783_z.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5254/5461505842_eea11aa783_z.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Amuse bouche: Smoked eel w/ white chocolate and caviar</td></tr>
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</div><div>Our first course of whiting salad with summer vegetables, apple and roe is delicately crunchy and refreshing. The dish was also emblematic for me of VDM's shift even further away from French techniques and towards a more Japanese approach (as seen in Kaiseki meals, which I will rave about another time).</div><div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5216/5460902973_a917dbf2cf_z.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5216/5460902973_a917dbf2cf_z.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Salad of whiting, summer vegetables, apple and roe</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div><br />
</div><div>I assume the hot new trend in restaurants for 2011 is pebbles as serving-ware, as our second course is placed before us atop a heated river stone. The main attraction, the marron, is a perfectly cooked piece of seafood, so delicious that I have to work to eat it slowly. The accompanying burnt butter sauce adds a toasted, creaminess to my mouthful of crayfish, but most interesting is the so-called crab sandwich, which tastes just like eating a ham and cheese croissant (the crab is sandwiched between cheese crisps). Delightful.</div><div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5012/5460903073_7d899cc88f_z.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5012/5460903073_7d899cc88f_z.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-hyphenate: none; tab-stops: center 219.55pt;"><span style="position: relative; top: -1pt;">Marron on a hot river stone, spanner crab sandwich, brown butter emulsion<o:p></o:p></span></div></td></tr>
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</div><div>The circus kicks into high gear with an incredibly sexy, mystifying dish. The duck egg melted silkily across the plate when pierced, mingling in the mouth with the crunchiness of the baby leek. The baffling component was the olive oil, which had been transmogrified into a white powder that had the appearance of feta cheese but the mouthfeel of fairy floss. It melted against my tongue into rich lashings of olive oil flavour (the earth moved for my dining companion as well).</div><div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5019/5460903161_171f616e4b_z.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5019/5460903161_171f616e4b_z.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-hyphenate: none;"><span style="position: relative; top: -1pt;">Fried duck egg, lamb sweetbreads, Pickled baby leeks, olive oil powder</span><span lang="EN-US" style="position: relative; top: -1pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div></td></tr>
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</div><div>We're treated to a palate cleanser of cucumber sorbet and elderflower granita, with a little frozen lime. Each ice-cold mouthful, acidic and sweet, is in sharp contrast to the decadence of the last course. The sugar content however is low, so as not to confuse this with a dessert. Wish they sold it in punnets - I'd be palate cleansing every chance I got.</div><div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5211/5461506462_041c687e9e_z.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5211/5461506462_041c687e9e_z.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">Cucumber sorbet, elderflower granite, frozen lime</span></div></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bona fide theatrics: Human head course</td></tr>
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<br />
With our palates reset to neutral, the parade of dishes resumes with a bejeweled salad of beetroot, topped with a succulent smoked bone marrow dressing. The beetroot is stunning in colour and has good texture, but is quite bland on its own.</div><div><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-hyphenate: none;"><span style="position: relative; top: -1pt;">Beetroot, smoked bone marrow</span></div></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gnawesome</td></tr>
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</div><div>The final savoury flourish for the evening puts to bed any possibility that I might ever become a full-fledged vegetarian. I already eat very little meat in general, but VDM's Blackmore wagyu beef cheek is too luscious an experience to pass up in this lifetime. Melting meat is set against crunchy root vegetables and full-flavoured herbs. Take a bite, close your eyes, enjoy the ride.</div><div><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-hyphenate: none;"><span style="position: relative; top: -1pt;">Blackmore wagyu beef cheek, leek<o:p></o:p></span></div></td></tr>
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</div><div>And so we veered off from the simplicity of well-cooked quality produce into the realm of experimentation. Our pre-dessert course stood out as my dining companion's favourite dish of the night. Out came one brown medicine bottle each, spewing dry ice and adorned with a paper straw. Our waiter set a plate in the centre of the table with red balls on sticks (cracking shells with ice-cream inside), sitting on piles of yellow candy. We were advised to roll the sticks in the yellow candy and then take a drink from the medicine bottles. The result? Mouthfuls of ice-cream with exploding pop rocks and the bittersweet jolt of home-made lemonade. It was a riot in the mouth, crackly and whimsical.</div><div><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">Frozen lolly, popping candy, house made lemonade</span></div></td></tr>
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</div><div>I'd already eye-humped our first dessert course, watching it go out to other tables. VDM's take on a pavlova is to deconstruct it and cascade it down the side of your plate, with individual components stuck on using meringue. Paper thin ribbons of cucumber hide little pieces of fresh kiwifruit and pineapple, with crunch and texture lent by strawberry chips. Bright mango ice-cream is flanked by berry sorbet and finished off with meringue shards.</div><div><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pavlova, 2007 Stellenrust Chenin d’Muscat, South Africa</td></tr>
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</div><div>Suckers that we are for classic French fare, we're pleased to find that our final course is a pretty, fluffy soufflé, with a well of chocolate ganache and a pool of crème anglaise, visibly speckled with vanilla. Pillow soft with a smooth cocoa taste, it would serve as an elegant end to the meal, assuming we hadn't greedily inhaled it.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-hyphenate: none; tab-stops: 304.5pt 316.5pt 363.75pt 385.5pt 398.25pt;"><span lang="FR" style="position: relative; top: -1pt;">Chocolate soufflé, chocolate mousse, crème anglaise<o:p></o:p></span></div></td></tr>
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And so commences the parade of petits fours: the mini-mousse lamingtons were as the name suggests, little bites of chocolate and berry mousse, dusted in coconut. The dark horse of the petits fours spread were the sweet and sour lemon jub-jub, which looked innocuous but were a happy, mouth-puckering shock once devoured.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mini mousse lamingtons (left) and lemon jub jub </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Orange jellies in strawberry coulis w/ house made Wizz Fizz</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rosewater marshmallows</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Service rolls on</td></tr>
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<a href="http://www.urbanspoon.com/r/71/762025/restaurant/Victoria/CBD/Vue-de-monde-Melbourne"><img alt="Vue de monde on Urbanspoon" src="http://www.urbanspoon.com/b/link/762025/biglink.gif" style="border:none;width:200px;height:146px" /></a>Plate Lickerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11040573412122698464noreply@blogger.com0