restaurant reviews

fiddling while Rome burns

~ maireaddoyle ~ Leave a comment

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The Strand, Williamstown
www.thestrandrestaurant.com.au/

It turns out I have a day off on Friday, a day with an extreme fire danger. Needing to go out into the fresh air rather than sit inside, despite the high temperatures, I head to Williamstown.

The Strand restaurant overlooks the marina and the city. On a Friday lunchtime it is quiet enough, with only two of the terrace tables occupied. I sit at the table with the best view and the further position from the crying baby, and settle in with my new copy of Vanity Fair.


The menu is short but appetising. An array of seafood, fresh pasta and steak proves difficult to choose from. I struggle to choose between a tiger prawn and rocket risotto and a seafood curry. The seafood curry wins out.

My starter, a Greek salad, is chunky and delicious, with just the right amount of olive oil and oregano but sadly missing the red onion promised on the menu. There could be a lot more feta cheese – two chunks is miserly even without considering the price.

The seafood curry, strangely, is served with risoni instead of rice, a bit like a bouillabaisse. I am put off momentarily but the dish wins out in the end. I scoop up tiger prawns, lumps of white fish, freshly steamed mussels and the odd scallop all swimming in a hot coconutty red curry gravy. It lasts an age.

Across the road a young man lets his girlfriend have a try on his shiny new motorbike. She wobbles wildly and he stops her before she topples over. Undeterred, she tries again, swerving madly behind some grasses which obscure her inevitable downfall. I, and the people at the table beside me, stop eating to watch the spectacle. The young bloke runs towards the girl, alarmed. We can’t see the motorbike but can just about see the sun glinting off the top of her helmet as she sits, no doubt despondent, in the shrubbery. Moments later, he has the motorbike back on its wheels. He caresses it fondly. No sign of giving the girl a hand up. Both tables wail as a stationery van parks in front of us momentarily, blocking our view. You couldn’t pay for this quality of live entertainment over lunch.

I finish my glass of Wild Duck Creek shiraz malbec and gaze across the city. The haze is partially from the weather and partially from the fires still going across the state, many today quite close to the city. My colleagues are watching the Country Fire Association fire list grow and deploying volunteers to where the people are congregating. Like Nero I sit and do what I do to relax. Today is not my day.

At just over $70, my two course lunch with wine was worth it. Discreet and friendly service, perfect setting, excellent food (notwithstanding my lack of red onion – I like red onion). I will be back for dinner some evening.

>The Station Hotel

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>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.

Nevertheless, I am delighted such excellent steaks are being served so close to home. This will become a regular haunt, no doubt.

Il Bacaro

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>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.

Sosta Cucina

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>Errol Street, North Melbourne
www.sosta.com.au

This new North Melbourne place has become a serious regular haunt for me and my workmates. A friendly North Italian joint, they take their regional cooking very seriously here.

The menu is not encyclopaedic, but it is augmented by a slew of specials every night. I have two favourite dishes which I struggle to escape from ordering time and time again. The first is spaghetti with blue swimmer crab meat, olive oil, garlic, parsley, golden breadcrumbs and freshly grated bottarga. It never looks much on the plate, but the flavours are so rich I always struggle to finish it. The waiter tells me that the breadcrumbs (salty, garlicky goodness) are a south Italian way of adding flavour to a dish when money is tight and cheese is expensive.

The second dish I love is a fairly simple pappardelle dish with slow-cooked lamb ragu and pecorino. Perfect for a chilly winter’s night, it goes well with a nice big glass of chianti.

The wine list is pretty good – plenty of Italians by the glass as well as the bottle.

The owner told me the other night when we went in seeking a quiet table for two, that he couldn’t accommodate us as they were having one of their new regional feasts. Every month they will have a bookings-only evening celebrating the food of a particular region of Italy with a special menu. Sounds like a good way to fill a restaurant on a Wednesday night, but I guarantee those heading down to Sosta will add this great place to their list of favourites.

>Baba House

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>Errol Street, North Melbourne

This little Malaysian place is a bit of a Cheap Eats regular. Local to my office, I have walked and rode past it almost every day for a year and a half, and finally ate there with friends on our way to a comedy night in the Comic’s Lounge next door.

The furnishings are simple but welcoming, service is friendly and quick, and the food is wonderful. Serving sizes seem big – it is not often I struggle to finish my dinner, especially such a good beef rendang. Peter’s fried fish was a hit, although as a starter too small to taste more than a morsel. I will return just to have this all to myself.

Tazio

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>66 Flinders Lane Melbourne
www.tazio.com.au

Ericka’s birthday took us to Tazio, a quirky new pizzeria. Split-level and windowless except for the large front door, it shouldn’t work but it does.

And the pizza is exceptional. Only the very best ingredients are used. They come in one size. And I could have eaten three.

My particular favourite (we chose and shared about four) was the Treviso – crushed oven-dried tomatoes, fetta cheese, caramelised onion and basil. The flavours were over-the-top strong and fused wonderfully.

Nonna’s pork and veal meatballs were a small dish, but sensational. The spice semolina calamari was perfectly cooked and served with a rocket and endive salad. And even the eggplant lasagne (not my favourite vegetable) was edible (others thought more highly of this).

With plenty of wines – local and Italian – by the glass, it is sure to become one of my favourites.