Eat

Call me Homer

Posted on by Eatlovego

I have quite an acute sense of smell and came to this sole conclusion as I was pounding the pavements along George Street, Sydney. Amongst all of the random whiffs of garbage, lingering deodorants, bad BO and greasy Maccas smells, a familiar smell floated past my nose. It was unmistakable, instantly recognisable and barely lasted a second and as I looked around trying to search for the source, I realised I was definitely having a bit of a Homer Simpson moment. Now, I am the first to admit that I have never been a big Simpsons fan but I do know that Homer loves donuts and this is what I have in common with the big yellow fella.

For a mere second the whiff of cinnamon donuts stopped me in my tracks. It’s that hot-just-piped-batter-and-rolled-in-cinnamon-smell that takes me back to being a child after school and eating one from Donut King for afternoon tea. I lick my lips now at the thought of eating a fresh and hot cinnamon donut!

Now, I realise that donuts are not the healthiest snack and don’t think that this is an everyday snack for me as I definitely consider them to be more of a treat. As the cinnamon smell whooshed on by, I had a good  think about when I had last savoured the taste….Australia Day; 26 January 2010 – I was in Byron Bay for the long weekend. Strolling around with my niece and her boyfriend, they both suddenly turned around to my man and I and adamantly insisted that we eat a Byron Bay Organic Donut. “An institution”, they cried. “A must!” Shaped more like a long churros than a circle with a hole, the Byron Bay Organic Donut ticked the rest of the boxes in being hot and crispy, doused in cinnamon and finger-licking good. It was with sadness that I learnt recently that the shop had closed down on Lawson Street however I have been assured that their stall does make regular appearances around the local markets.

Admitting to a love of donuts makes me feel a bit sheepish and slightly bogan. But on second thoughts, I am a proud donut lover and the holey cinnamon circles sit up there with my other bogan loves of iced vovos, toobs, meat pies and passiona. Homer, I’m right there standing beside you!

I love potatoes; Friday Mash included

Posted on by Eatlovego

The statement “I love potatoes” came up in a discussion over Wednesday night-dinner and it wasn’t even me who spoke those three words, although I emphatically agree. The statement was said with an infinite amount of gusto and it was clear that there was a deep-seated passion behind it. Roger told me that his standout ways to eat potatoes were gratin style baked with cream and cheese, roasted new potatoes and good old-fashioned chips. The discussion rolled on and all four of us ended up pitching in as we excitedly spoke best ways and bad ways to eat the basic spud. Was a pontiac better than a desiree to roast and what’s the best way to get some crisp?

As the winter chills made their entry in Sydney this week I cooked a traditional Shepherd’s Pie with a piled heap of mash on top and revelled in the comfort and satisfied feeling one gets when eating the humble potato. And not just a winter staple but an all season food, I recall chowing down a jacket potato cooked over campfire at Cooma last year, soaking up the creamy sauce of a gratin my sister cooked for me and I unashamedly admit that I am the aunty who takes a chip off my nephew’s plate if his meal arrives before mine!

So I put it to you; how do you eat your potatoes? And have you tasted a bit of Friday Mash as this is not just some Friday pub special but top nosh mash in my books.

I love my dumplings fresh with a part vinegar and soy sauce on the side

Posted on by Eatlovego

It was during a hurried Tuesday lunch special that I tried the two-week old Bamboo on Reservoir Street, Surry Hills. Notified by my friend Maz to try it out given it is literally a local and I do walk past it everyday on my way to work, it seemed a no brainer. And then there is my number one love of dumplings which gets me everytime. I love my dumplings steaming hot, fresh and not gluggy. A tell-tale sign of their prior steaming is when they arrive in a steamed round box and when the lid is taken off, it’s such a lovely surprise. I love to dip my dumpling lightly into a combination of soy sauce and vinegar so it’s not doused but enriched by the salt and tartiness of the sauces. More often than not, I usually then burn the insides of my mouth in a rush to eat my dumpling due to the spurting soup trapped inside. But it is so worth it.

Back to Bamboo; tucked away at the back of a corner pub it is decorated in a rustic old-Beijing fashion with different coloured wooden bird cages hanging from the ceiling and a lone push bike. Signs inform the eater that Bamboo believes “everyone has nice dumplings” and there is an assortment of shared tables pre-set with plates and chopsticks and local workers are starting to crowd the place as more people swing by to try the new kid on the block.

Bamboo is not a no-Go but only go there if you need a quick bite and dumplings don’t rate high on your list of food loves. Unfortunately for me, it was borderline gweilo, the Northern Chinese (where xiaolongbao dumplings hail from) flavours were not distinct enough and I think the sauce that the dumplings and grilled salmon came with was simply soy. And when you’re stacking this place up against Din Tai Fung which is a ten minute walk away, it doesn’t come close even in the price factor. I think I could have done better to go to Ho’s Dim Sim Kitchen on Pitt Street, buy my own dumplings, heat them up and eat them. It was worth trying but next…?

Bamboo @ Corner of Commonwealth and Reservoir Streets, Surry Hills Sydney 2010

Ho’s Dim Sim Kitchen @ 429A Pitt Street, Sydney 2000

leave Thailand and go down the Corridor

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Newtown used to be a lunchtime haunt for me as I used to wander up King Street after morning classes at Sydney Uni. Back then lunch was more often at the Green Iguana and then time would pass and I would end up with cheap cocktails at Kuletos. Years later, the Green Iguana has been replaced by a Mexican restaurant, Kuletos still stands strong and Newtown has become Thailand without needing a passport to get there. On Thursday night, I must have walked past five restaurants in a row that were Thai, not counting the three opposite across the road and ones further down King Street. Not only is there restaurant after restaurant but also a large Javanese furniture shop where I am sure you could even buy a knick knack and give it to your mum as a souvenir of your recent travels. Outside of Thailand, Australia has been a massive support to the fragrant and colourful food that we have come to know as Thai and it’s my guess that most people would now know what Pad Thai is as much as they would know what Spag Bol is.

With no desire to go to Phuket last week for dinner, I instead found myself in Corridor – a new pocket rocket bar which has moved into Newtown. Off the back of a recommendation from Bridgie, Corridor turned out to be a two level, more on the tiny side wine bar that also served finger food and more substantial meals, if required. Far removed from the cheapness of Kuletos and sticky carpets of the Marlborough, Corridor was a welcome surprise and similar to a wine bar you might find in Melbourne’s laneways, Surry Hills or Darlinghurst. Wines were mid-range in price therefore leaving behind the student feel you come across in many other Newtown haunts and dinner was tasty with a mix of both pub-style food and tapas-style food available to order.

Corridor was a bit of a gladiator-sandal for me. Trendy, hip, begging to be seen yet comfortable. Go to Corridor with friends. Sit upstairs on the Terrace or what feels like your loungeroom with big armchairs and a busy street view. Leave your suitcase at home, drink and eat local. Jetstar will have cheap flights again next week.

Corridor @ 153A King Street Newtown, Sydney NSW 2042

no-Go #1

Posted on by Eatlovego

I would hate to be a Travel Agent. Sure, you would get good perks with discounted flights and accommodation but having to sell travel when the internet has become the best friend of most would be a hard-sell. However despite the advanced growth of the internet over the last five years, an element of risk still remains when you book online. Photos can make a bedroom look huge and taken at the correct angle and in the right light, can make a dark room seem bright. Some hotels now have video links and they are better but there will always be a percentage that is the unknown factor.

For my recent honeymoon, I completely booked its entirety solely online. The hire car was booked through vroomvroomvroom, flights done through QANTAS and all accommodation was thoroughly researched, compared and booked online through their specific websites. Sites like Trip Advisor help somewhat to guide your decision but ultimately biting the bullet is a solo activity.

no-Go # 1 is the Piermont Retreat, Tasman Hwy. Swansea TAS. 7190

With the route decided that my man and I would fly into Hobart, spend some time exploring the capital before heading up the East coast and Freycinet peninsular and finally inland and flying home out of Launceston, I searched for a “special” place for the mid component of the honeymoon. Piermont met the requirements for its highly rated restaurant which I noted we would need to eat at and I liked the sound of “ecologically sustainable luxury” as per the website description of the overall retreat which was situated steps away from the Freycinet coast. There were enough photos to match the descriptive language and they even had a “honeymoon spa” package. Booked and paid for. In the comments section on the online reservation I recall writing that the reason for our Tasmanian trip was due to our honeymoon and we look forward to the experience ahead at Piermont Retreat.

Service or more to the point; Customer Service is an important factor to me. Whether you are on a weekend-away, staying at a backpackers, in a 2-star or 5-star – customer service is an essential for me. On our honeymoon, my man and I were already on cloud 9 and any extras we received were icing on the cake.

Arriving into reception at Piermont Retreat, I was met by a man who I assumed was one of the owners. No hello, no welcome to Piermont, no “how’s your honeymoon been so far?”. I appreciate everyone has bad days but this first impression was gruff, rude and inappropriate. After a mini-dispute over how many nights were booked and paid for, despite by print-out in hand, I was given a set of keys, a site map for the retreat and sent on my less-than-merry way.

I have a good photographic memory and considering how much time I spent researching and comparing places to stay in Tasmania; the room I saw after I turned the key and opened the door was not the photo I remembered. Bare minimum was reality.

Changing our initial plans, we left Piermont Retreat after only the one night to leave behind the only disappointment on our honeymoon. Rude service or rather a lack of, coupled with not getting what we paid for or what was advertised online left my man and I with a bad taste in our mouths.

Thank god for Hotel Islington and Red Feather Inn to make up for it in the Tasmanian accommodation stakes as overall, our honeymoon is an amazing memory, not to be discoloured by one night.

If this is on the menu it’s my first choice

Posted on by Eatlovego

I know some people can’t stand to do this. They would rather order something else or even ask someone to do it for them. If you spend too much time thinking about it then yes, it can be disgusting and overly fiddly but my love for them is too great and everything becomes a journey to reach a destination especially when it comes to eating. I’m talking about prawns, fresh ones and the art of peeling them, either by hand or if the flavours are so great and cooked Chinese-style with lots of garlic and shallots then, in my mouth. I think my man thought it was some sort of party trick at first! However, there is nothing I love more than to go to the Fish markets, lining up and buying a kilo of fresh tiger prawns and sitting outside with my sleeves rolled up to peel and eat every one there and then. Lemon, mayo or not, it was a love that Dad introduced me to when I was around 4 years old and I have never looked back. Last year for Christmas I made a huge tray of prawns which were skewered and to prepare for the BBQ were doused in fish sauce, ginger, garlic, fresh baby chillies, soy sauce, palm sugar, coriander and lime zest. I did have help this time to peel 5 kilos of prawns (from my niece – it’s obviously in our blood) but it was by memory, a relaxing afternoon and golly, the end product was magnificent.

Day 1 we arrived into Hobart late afternoon and were famished by 7pm when we waltzed into Flatheads after a recommendation from Hotel Islington. Located in South Hobart, 5 minutes drive from the hotel it is a spot we were told where locals like to frequent and our immediate sight was the fresh seafood that was presented in more of a fishmonger style than fine restaurant. But all the same the fish looked fresh, had ample colour and plumpness and there was a huge variety to choose from. Our menu informed us about the 15 or so types available to eat from the more common barra to a childlike character type called Snotty Trevally (aka Blue Warehou) to one that seemed more like a fundraiser called Pink Ling. Our waiter demonstrated a good knowledge of what was in season, how it was to be cooked and matched our order to a fabulous local wine from Bream Creek.

First up and the entrees presented themselves to be Abalone cooked in a mustard seed-star anise broth for my man and 6 fresh prawns for me with a garlic toastie and aioli. Not the slightest bit fazed, prawns were peeled in a flash and sweetness was instantly savoured. Mains were equally as delightful (my Bouillabaise was the perfect choice for a cold first night) and we left Flatheads with full and warm bellies.

And if there is Spaghetti Marinara on the menu; it’s my first choice. The best so far was from an Italian restaurant on Hastings Street, Noosa QLD. It came with fresh papardelle in a steaming hot paper bag. Once ripped open, the tomato aromas awash with the fresh fragrant seafood was heaven in a bowl.

Flatheads @ 4 Cascade Road, South Hobart 7004.

When in Hobart; go to Jackman & McRoss

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In Tasmania for my honeymoon, the first stop has been Hobart; the quaint fisherman’s capital of the apple isle. Kathy, the welcoming host at Hotel Islington (more on this later) advised my man and I to go and drive around and get acquainted with Battery Point. She said there would be small streets, beautiful timber cottages and in the day on foot, it is an area to get purposefully lost in. So driving around just as it was getting dark we came across a little village reminiscent of Bath with street names like Cheltenham Place, Hampden Street and Dewitt Lane. Backing onto the famous Saturday-special-Salamanca-Place, Hampden Street is the high street in this little pocket of Hobart.

As it was dark, I looked from side to side as we drove passing intricate antique stores, the popular Picalilly restaurant and a brightly lit lolly shop that I needed to re-visit however it was a corner place with large bay windows and a navy and white sign of Jackman & McRoss that caught my eye and I immediately said “slow down”. I recall bakery also helped the instant halt and I penned in my mind that we would be back.

Pushing the door open of Jackman & McRoss, my eyes were immediately met with rows of sourdough, baguettes, a blackboard of today’s pies, strawberry tarts, chocolate ganache pies and bap rolls. Not only a bakery, I saw there was also table service and feeling famished I sat down initially salivating over the thought of a cider beef pie. Hearing the familiar unspoken language that this place served good tucker as it was still busy with people eating all sorts of bits and pieces at 2.30pm, I looked up at the specials board and pondered…and ordered Ocean Trout stuffed with boccocini on a bed of black rice with buttered leeks and a cloudy apple juice. Not really the usual bakery fare…

Late lunch was delicious. The black rice was slightly sticky and a great accompaniment to the subtle trout flavours and the buttered leeks added to the caramelised aftertaste. The apple juice was smooth and opaque in colour and had the right amount of tartness and sweetness to wash down lunch.

As a well-known food-lover amongst friends and now post bride-diet, I am satisfyingly in foodie heaven and have not held back sampling my way through warmed spiced apple mead, fresh sheep’s milk porcini pecorino and warm porridge with braised rhubarb. So far I have only seen and tasted the freshest ingredients possible and have witnessed first-hand the abundance of good food available to use in cooking and to eat. The lunch I ate today at Jackman & McRoss was superb, a blend of complex ingredients plated simply in a bakery cafe and it was only $9.80. And that is the icing on the cake consistent with other Tasmanian restaurants and providores. In Hobart I have suprisingly seen that you don’t have to pay for the name here but just for the quality of food and the returns on flavour received inevitably have you paying more and more until you just can’t get enough!

So, here’s to more discoveries of fresh flavours tomorrow!

Jackman & McRoss @ 57 Hampden Road, Battery Point Hobart TAS 7004

an unspoken universal language; even in Rome

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What are the signs of a top restaurant and I am not just talking about the ones with hats and stars? I’m talking about the restaurants that you walk past that you have never eaten in before but you can sense the electric atmosphere and you can see people are really enjoying their food. These are the restaurants that are packed with people and there’s usually a lot of noise and more often a queue just to get a seat, especially when it’s a cafe and there’s a queue at 9am on a Sunday. Flat White Cafe on Jersey Road Woollahra, Sydney is like this. Or when you walk past a Chinese restaurant and you see that everyone is actually Chinese, that’s usually a good sign too.

I was in Rome last year and my man and I were wandering around aimlessly taking in all of the great sights one sees in the eternal city. We were doing one of those night walks and discovering the city spontaneously without a map. We had eaten near the Spanish Steps, seen the Trevi Fountain at night and had just walked through Piazza Navona when we suddenly found ourselves smack bang in Campo dei Fiori and were immediately met with the hustle and bustle of people having a great night out. There were a couple of buskers creating atmosphere with their live jazz quartet and all of the square’s restaurants had tables right out on to the pavement and people were vying for these seats. Our walk took us down a narrow street where there were mainly clothing stores and up ahead we noticed some bright lights and locals casually standing there excitedly speaking Italian whilst drinking wine and having a smoke. Walking past, we glanced behind the Italians and I instantly had the understanding that this was a top restaurant. I didn’t need to read any good food guide or speak Italian to know that this was a local’s favourite and not a tourist trap that only served bolognese and lasagne. Through their glass window I could see walls of wine, numerous salami rolls hanging from the ceiling and stacks of cheese in a chilled display. It wasn’t packed, but was busy enough and I knew I needed to come back to this place before I left Rome despite feeling incredibly full after my recent dinner.

Two nights later we came back to Roscioli. I discovered that the wall of wine was not just at the front but all through the restaurant on both sides and even lining the stairs down to the private room below. Our table was right near the cheese fridge and I remember looking at all of the different varieties of mozzarella, gorgonzola and pecorino (just to name a few). I watched the chef prepare someone’s meal and hold every piece of buffalo mozzarella like it was a precious gem before carefully cutting it and arranging it delicately on the plate. Our waiter came to us and was instantly amused that we didn’t speak a word of Italian yet managed to brief us on all of the day’s specials and take us knowledgeably through the menu. My man and I decided to create a degustation for ourselves so we could experience and eat as much off the menu in one sitting. By 8pm, Roscioli was packed with other people eating their way through the extensive menu and I could feel a similar electric atmosphere as I would do in A Tavola in Darlinghurst, Sydney or at Cafe Sopra in Waterloo, Sydney. Every plate we ate off was delicious, delectable, mouth-watering and encompassed a million taste sensations. The produce was fresh and of optimum quality and the wines we drank matched the flavours completely.

We left Roscioli that night feeling a sense of complete satisfaction and for many nights after we raved about the restaurant, thinking back to how thin and delicious the carpaccio was and how decadent the chocolate fondant was… I know when I go back to Rome next time that this place is top of my list to return to, just so I can make my way through more of the menu!

Via dei Giubbonari, 21. 00186 Rome

When in Paris, people watch from here

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Observations of local Parisiens generally amount to descriptions such as stylish, elegant, effortless, artistic, dog-lovers…the list does go on and there are many places to people watch throughout Paris to reach these common conclusions. Watch the romantics in Les Jardin des Tuilleries, watch the thoughtful and pensive as they mull around Rodin’s The Thinker, watch the sun lovers bask on the banks of the Seine, watch the modern day gypsy-like artisans at Montmartre. I discovered one more place to people watch on my last trip to the city of lights and the people I watched here were the locals scurrying or strolling past self-absorbed and oblivious to their own beauty. At the end of the Pont Louis Phillippe bridge – Marais side is a chic French bistro called Chez Julien. It was on recommendation that I came to this place. What I didn’t know at the time was how much I would fall in love with one destination on such a short stay.

Chez Julien is located directly opposite the bridge and its tables spill outside where diners can be watched and in turn watch their surrounds. The waiters who come to serve me sparkling water look like they have just stepped of a Paris catwalk and blend right into this picturesque scene. The tan shoulder bags that they wear across their bodies are not just fashion accessories but a means to hold euros that they collect off satisfied patrons. The food is mouth-watering. The chicken dish I order is filled with terrific yet simple flavours and it epitomises French cooking in one go by showcasing that it does not take a raft of ingredients to make a spectacular meal. I sit here for the rest of the afternoon and digest every detail. The next day, I come back with two hours to spare before flying out, feeling like a local who frequents this bistro daily yet laughing at myself because I am a tourist who should be experiencing something new while I am only here for three days.

When in Paris, people watch from here and eat nothing but copious amounts of divine French goodness.

1 Rue du Pont Louis-Philippe, 75004 Paris, France‎ – 01 42 78 31 64‎

Move over Betty Crocker. Barefoot Contessa has arrived in pink lady style!

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I admit I am a bit of a snob when it comes to packet mix cakes, pancake shakes or any sauces for that matter that come in a jar. Hmmm…sure, they market themselves as easy, two minute, no-fuss jobs but I have always been a fan of making things from scratch. Back in high school I remember I cooked a Betty Crocker chocolate fudge brownie in the microwave and was underwhelmed by the cardboard taste and far too sweet taste.

But it was in Alfresco a couple of months ago when the tide turned and I picked up a blue striped box entitled Barefoot Contessa Coconut Cupcakes. Turning the box over I was confronted with foreign measurements of ingredients like ounces and sticks but nonetheless threw my hat in the ring again to try to make something else again from a box.

So it was last night, after having purchased my extra ingredients of cream cheese, eggs and butter that I set myself to the task. Spurred on by Go Pink for a Day (an initiative at work to raise money for a colleague who was diagnosed with breast cancer last year), the only ingredient I added to the mix not prescribed by Barefoot Contessa was some pink food colouring as my end product needed to get into the spirit of things! The whole process was extremely easy so the packet mix certainly lived up to initial expectations. The mixture came together extremely well with three steps in total and tastes along the way made not only my nose twitch with glee but also my man’s.

As I took my end product into work today; decorated with hot pink icing, shredded coconut flakes and a raspberry jube, my colleagues were amazed and oohed and aahed at all the right moments and my little “pink ladies” raised over $50. The next time I go to Alfresco, I am going to stock up on more striped boxes – it’s the outrageous brownie which is calling me next. And despite this new change in me I am afraid I will continue to be a snob, but only to the likes of Betty Crocker.