Author: maireaddoyle

colmao flamenco

~ maireaddoyle ~ Leave a comment

>60 Johnston Street Fitzroy
www.colmaoflamenco.com

With one gluten-free dining companion and another that doesn’t eat anything that swims, where does one go for dinner? Not Italian. Not seafood. Not Thai: we had that the week before. I know, I thought: tapas and a nice bottle of Spanish red. Perfect for an unseasonably cold April night.

Our original destination on Johnston Street was the bar next door. Kanela looked inviting enough until I realised that it was the very bar upon which I had danced – sober – on a birthday night out years ago. I am not sure if I thought somebody in there would recognise me, with more than ten years gone by and a good 10kg piled on. Anyway, it did not seem right so we headed to Colmao.

We were greeted by a friendly face, white starched tablecloths and a neighbouring table of Spanish people: a family celebrating a birthday. Promising. I was delighted to see one of my favourite Spanish wines on the list. The 2001 Pata Negra Valdepeñas was not as divine as the 1991 Gran Reserva, but it was still fabulous: a welcome change from an Australian wine.

We ate. A lot. It was all finger-licking delicious: well, except for the tortilla which should be the best bit but was a bit tired-looking and – dare I say – microwaved? The patatas bravas were crinkle-cut and perfectly cooked. The capsicum-laden spicy sauce was not for me but I bravely ate around it.

The garlic prawns were garlicky and full of chilli. The albondigas were firm in a lovey tomatoey sauce. The Champinoñes Maytip, sautéed in oregano, olive oil and white wine, were new to me but full of flavour. The chorizo was braised in tomato, onion, garlic and white wine. The baby octopus was delivered in a clay pot in a rich caramelised sauce full of green peas. To die for.

We ordered more albondigas, more garlic prawns. We knew we would be hell to sit beside next morning but to hell with it.

We ordered another bottle of Pata Negra. Silly not to.

In the end, full to pussy’s bow and with Swine Flu seriously warded off with all that garlic, we gave up. Well, what I mean is that I ordered flan and we shared it. However, after all that red wine I am afraid I cannot really remember if it was good or not.

On some nights at Colmao they have a flamenco singer and guitarist. Must go back for that and some more of those garlic prawns.

>bistro vite

~ maireaddoyle ~ 1 Comment

>Southgate, Melbourne

I will admit the main criterion for choosing a place for dinner this night was location. We had tickets to see The Bar at Bueno Vista in Hamer Hall, and we needed to be close. Eliminating all the Italian places that would have been higher on my list to accommodate Orlando, this was what was left.

At least it was cosy. There were people dining outside, and whilst it had been a pleasant day, it was pretty chilly when the sun went down. The wait staff were nice enough but absentminded. The maitre d’, I have to say, was aloof.

Starters were a mixed bag. Orlando’s smoked salmon salad was decently-proportioned, and Kelvin’s zucchini souffle looked good enough, but not much like a souffle. Our French onion soup was tasteless. We tried some salt, and then Eileen went searching for black pepper. Neither improved the taste of this blandness. A bowl of hot beef Oxo would have been nicer.

Two roast ducks and two steak frites came next. The duck was nice enough, Eileen and Kelvin said, but the skin – the best part of course – was limp and not at all well-cooked. Our steaks were generous but less than average. I left the last one-third of mine because I couldn’t get through the gristle. The French fries were nice I have to say: a huge bed of them with the juices of the steak mingling with the tiny amount of garlic butter I had allowed to melt before I took it off the plate.

All in all, a pedestrian meal. I would not be lining up to dine in Bistro Vite again.

>namaste indian

~ maireaddoyle ~ Leave a comment

>225 King Street Melbourne
www.namasteindian.com.au

A “last supper” with friends before their trip to London required traditional English food. A curry was in order. I’d eaten at Namaste Indian on King Street about a year ago, and remembered the food as being predictable but tasty. I booked to visit again.

On a chilly Friday evening the restaurant was almost empty, although quite a few tables filled up whilst we were there. Sadly with so many empty tables to choose from the second group to arrive were sat right beside us. They turned out to be an exuberant and loud (but good-natured) bunch of blokes out for a curry after a few beers. It meant we could hardly hear ourselves speak for the duration of the meal, as we looked longingly at quieter tables on the other side of the restaurant.

We had an inauspicious start when the first bottle of wine I ordered was not available. With such little choice to start with, I ended up with a distinctly average bottle of Hunter Valley cabernet sauvignon, whilst Orlando made do with nothing as they had no sparkling wines whatsoever available. The menu also appeared much more limited than I imagined: the menu listed on the website is from their Bundoora restaurant and that is more like what I remembered. The menu we had to choose from was severely limited.

Our starters arrived piecemeal, with Chris waiting an age for some mashed potato patties stuffed with spiced mince. Orlando’s tandoori mixed grill looked appetising and generous, whilst my fish tikka was a miserly three tiny pieces seasoned badly. Robyn’s tandoori mushrooms looked miserable: they were undercooked with a dark-coloured seasoning on them which did not look at all tandoori-like. Hmm.

The main courses fared a little better. The naan bread was fine and the beef and lamb vindaloos were perfectly edible but not amazing. Robyn and Chris’ twin Namaste chicken curries were tasty enough, but again left me a little cold. I could have prepared better myself at home.

Afterwards, at least two of us felt a little ill and continued to do so for at least a day. Not sure if we ate something that didn’t agree with us, but I won’t be recommending Namaste in a hurry.

>maldini hobart

~ maireaddoyle ~ 1 Comment

>47 Salamanca Place Hobart
http://www.salamanca.com.au/

Dinner with colleagues in Hobart led us on a quiet Tuesday night to Salamanca Place. Usually buzzing at the weekend, most places were still doing a fairly brisk business in the early evening, but we chose the one with most diners in.

With a good view of the open kitchen and some friendly wait staff, we settled in for the evening. The frequently opening main door proved a little chilly at times but there were no other seating options. Plenty of wines by the glass was a help to the white wine drinkers, and Don and I chose a nice Rufus Stone shiraz to warm us up.

The bruschetta we ordered to share for starters were lovely – lots of flavour and fresh. I hardly ever order risotto in a restaurant but I couldn’t go past the chicken risotto: it was hearty, flavoursome and generous in size. I ate slowly and enjoyed every mouthful. Julie’s wallaby looked lovely and she attested to its tenderness.

With a bill of $210 in total, I am not sure it was great value despite the fact that the food was very good. The wine was $50 in total so that is $40 a head for four people. Nothing to complain about but given we only had two bruschetta to share for starters, it seems a little steep. Nonetheless, a pleasant dining experience overall.

st. jude’s cellars

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>389-391 Brusnwick Street Fitzroy
http://www.stjudescellars.com.au/

A frantic dash across the Tasman Sea from Hobart saw me arriving late on Brunswick Street for a major catch-up and gossip session with my best friend Eileen.

St. Jude’s Cellars is a canteen-like funky space with a cage full of wine that you can choose from and drink at your table or take away. We sat at a cosy table for two and the maitre d’ hid my luggage away in the manager’s office out of the way.

A glass of The Story shiraz soothed my frequent flyer worries away. After an epic month of flying to every corner of Australia, this had been the final trip and I could feel myself winding down as I sipped at my generous glassful.

The ham hock terrine we both ordered to start was lovely – it almost tasted like “proper” Irish ham (which is cured in brine rather than smoked as is the Aussie way), although there was a little too much aspic for my liking.

My rabbit pie was perfect for a late summer evening – full of flavour and goodness. Eileen’s lamb special was three different cuts of lamb on the one plate – a huge serving and all delicious.

Service was attentive and friendly, the food obviously well-chosen from the best ingredients. The menu advised that the jams and chutneys were sourced from the local primary school – now that’s fresh and local taken to the extreme!

I sense this place will become a well-worn favourite especially over the winter months with such hearty food and such a warm welcome.

>le parisien geelong

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>15 Eastern Beach Road Geelong
www.leparisien.com.au

A long lingering lunch with my sister Mena was in order. We had much to catch up on. we headed to Mena’s favourite place on a breezy Sunday afternoon, to sit by the water and graze the afternoon away.

I was feeling really ill, with a chest infection picked up in Perth just not going away. I kicked off with two paracetamol and a full-fat Coke to get the heart going, quickly followed by a nice glass (or two) of Austin shiraz – a local red. I was starting to enjoy this.

We both chose the seafood chowder to start, and we were not disappointed. This is one of my favourite soups and it is rare to get a good one anywhere I find. By the time I had soldiered through mine I was feeling much better and wondering how I could fit my main course in.

The waiter had taken a shine to me so our service was impeccable. The owner, a grand-sized Frenchman, also took time to visit each table and chat with the lunchtime crowd. It was a nice vibe and we really felt at home sitting at the window. There was no rush.

An elderly lady came in to lunch alone, nicely dressed up in a navy blue suit complete with hat. Perhaps she had been to church that morning. It seemed to me that she was a regular – maybe she had a favourite dish she had every week. She stayed about an hour and then walked briskly on home along the waterfront in the wind. I want to be like her when I am that age.

My fillet steak Cafe de Paris was huge: topped with sauteed mushrooms, bacon, onions and garlic butter it was a heart attack on a plate but I dug in and mopped up the sauce with chat potatoes. We tried to ignore the complimentary French fries on the table but failed dismally. My defence is that I did my sore throat good with all that salt.

How we managed to leave I do not know. We sat for over four hours putting the world to rights, sipping on our wine and finishing off with a couple of good quality lattes before facing the long drive home. It was comfort food at its best, and a location probably best enjoyed in the autumn or winter months when you want cosiness with your lunch.

At $202 the bill was not cheap, but I can see why it is Mena’s favourite and I will find an excuse to accompany her there again!