Restaurants, recipes, rants.
>Check out this photo album of weird food in tins. There were others in the photos I received that I didn’t think were too weird – like haggis and crocodile green curry (which I have eaten and is lovely… if prepared fresh and not eaten from a tin!).
mmmm tasty
http://www.flickr.com/photos/maireaddoyle/sets/72157613338712808/
>You can now subscribe to this blog using Newsgator, Google Yahoo, netvibes etc. by using the buttons on the right.
>Station Hotel
59 Napier Street Footscray
http://www.thestationhotel.com.au/
Adam and I ventured into the inner west for dinner tonight. A convenient fifteen minute walk from my house turned out to be more like half an hour, so I was late for our date and I found Adam outside on the pavement. The bar at the Station is still a bit of a standard suburban Melbourne hotel, and a little less fragrant than the boy is used to… I concurred when I wandered in, I have to say. I would not have been too relaxed sipping a nice glass of red at the bar by myself.
Undeterred, we presented ourselves at the dining room which upon first glance appeared a little crowded, a little noisy, a little lacking in atmosphere. We are usually more interested in the gossip and the wine than the food, but we both noticed it. A glass of 2004 McLaren Vale Brini shiraz grenache soothed us as we perused the menu: heavy on the steaks, and to my alarm very heavy on the seafood as starters. Adam does not do fish. Ever.
He reassured me that he would not starve, and we both chose soup for starter: mine a provencal fish soup and his a traditional French onion soup. Both were excellent.
Our charming Mancunian waiter took us through the complexities of a menu with no less than eight steaks on there. The provenance of each was listed along with where it was farmed, what it was fed, and the length of time it was aged. The only thing we were not privy to was the beast’s name.
Eventually we both settled upon the same thing: a 250g Sher Wagyu (Victoria) 450 day grain fed wagyu rostbiff. This means it comes from a cow from a particular breed which has been fed on a special grain diet for at least 450 days. A rostbiff cut is part of the rump – the rump without the cap, if that means anything to you.
For the uninitiated, wagyu beef is from a breed of cattle that is genetically predisposed to intense marbling of the flesh, giving the steak an incredible tenderness and flavour. I had never eaten one until tonight.
Our steaks were served simply, with a generous green salad, some chunky chips and some bearnaise and pepper sauces on the side. They did not disappoint. Without exception I can say this this was simply the best steak I have ever eaten. Adam reckoned a steak he’d been served in Chicago some months earlier came pretty close, but he was deeply impressed too.
We ate slowly, carefully. I put my knife and fork down after every second mouthful. This was a meal not to be rushed.
After carefully enjoying every morsel, we were tempted by dessert. My bread and butter pudding was feted as one of the best desserts in Melbourne: it was very good, but not the best I’ve had. Adam’s dessert special of pannacotta, berry compote and blood orange sorbet went down a treat. Again, he savoured every mouthful, and declared it the best dessert he had ever had. The strange tiny red berry-type things in his compote we could not identify until the waiter explained that it was sago.
Food aside, the decor of the restaurant area was fine, but the layout of the tables was a little institutional. It needs something to break up the monotony of three simple columns of tables, and maybe make things a bit more intimate at least in places. Some more comfortable seating would also be welcomed. Both us had numb backsides after the first hour.
Not bad for a simple straightforward suburban hotel, even if the new owner used to be the executive chef at the Botanical. If they could just make the bar more welcoming to diners before and after dinner, they will really be onto a winner.
You know my theory: never make a resolution you won’t want to keep.
In years gone past I have come up with:
You get the idea.
I have no idea what my new year’s resolution was for 2008, so I decided I would record my 2009 resolution here on these pages:
It is an easy one to achieve – we love shellfish, and fresh seafood, but we don’t get around to going to the market often enough. For New Year’s Eve I hopped on the moped, went down to Footscray Market and bought up some rockling fillets, some fresh de-shelled prawns and a handful of scallops out of the shell. A trip to the vegetable stall for some fresh herbs and the makings of a Greek salad, and I was all set.
The prawns were marinated in chilli, garlic, coriander and some Punjabi Kitchen King masala from the local Indian supermarket, then panfried in their own juices. I served them with the Greek salad on New Year’s Eve for supper and realised I had seriously over-catered. The rest we left until this evening when we had the rockling fillets steamed in foil parcels in the oven with garlic, green chilli, spring onion, coriander and Chinese five spice. The scallops I tossed in chilli and garlic and threw them on the barbie. Divine.
Happy New Year everybody! What are your resolutions?
My mate Charmaine O’Brien is the only published author I know (apart from one or two academics!). In addition to her other charms, Charmaine is an accomplished and enthusiastic Indian food expert, so you can imagine what we have in common…
>168 Little Collins Street, Melbourne
www.ilbacaro.com.au
Our friend Ida recommended this place to us, and Ida is serious about her Italian heritage and her Italian food.
Tucked away down Little Collins Street, it is easy to wander past this unprepossessing restaurant with noticing it. No outside tables (the pathway is far too narrow), no bright lights, just a serious-looking 1920s-style window frontage with discreet blinds hiding the joys within.
Inside, the place is all dark wood panelling, crisp white linen and flattering lighting. The high bar dominates the centre of the tiny space, but only a few bar stools hold some waiting diners. This is a place to sit side by side in corners, whispering, gossiping, perhaps having an affair…
It is also a place to impress. The waiters are polished professionals, almost always Italian or of Italian extraction, describing each dish on and off the menu with love and care and never needing to refer to notes. They will recommend a wine to go with your food, by the glass or bottle. They will hover discreetly waiting for your hand to reach for a half-empty water glass or bread basket, then swoop in with more. They can tell somehow if it is a special occasion or if there is simply somebody special at the table. Orlando’s 15-year-old god-daughter was fussed over charmingly when we took her there.
The food is good. Classic Italian standards vie with regional specials, often involving game. Last time I visited, my dining companion chose a pasta dish with a rabbit ragu which was sensational. My starter – a carpaccio of wagyu beef – was sublime. There is usually plenty of seafood too.
For a special occasion for two, or for a Tuesday evening gossip session with a small group of friends, this is one of my first choices in Melbourne.
fill up on bread 