Brim CC Japanese Organic Café
2/601 Little Collins Street
Melbourne VIC 3000
+61 9629 6794
I’ve been very naughty over the last few weeks. I have not been to the gym at all, I haven’t been setting aside time to bake, I’ve fallen so behind on Glee episodes and I’ve been eating all sorts of junk. I’ve not only eaten more cups of instant noodles in a month than I have in five years, I’ve averaged no less than 150 grams of potato chips per evening. Ugh! As much as I do enjoy the odd McDonald’s breakfast meal, Maccas four times per week is just ridiculous. Thus, I’ve decided to make a conscious effort to eat cleaner and more healthier foods.
My goal was off to a good start last night when I decided to give Rose Garden’s salted duck fried rice, a dish that I had been craving during my evening class, a miss. Instead, I decided to suss out Brim CC, a Japanese organic café on the arse end of Collins Street. Japanese? Yep. Organic? Oh hells yeah!
A popular lunch spot with the corporate types, Brim CC (WTF name?) is also popular for those wanting a cheap, hearty Japanese dinner minus the MSG and boringness that too often occurs in many inexpensive Japanese eateries around the city. It was just past the dinner hour when I rocked up, but the place was still half full. It was cold outside so the obvious thing to choose was a Japanese curry on rice, though the soups also sounded tempting – even though flavours such as borscht, oyster chowder and pot au feu were decidedly not Japanese. In the end, I chose a half curry and salad set, which consisted of a bowl of chicken and tomato curry on rice (beef was the other curry option) and either a teriyaki chicken, tofu or potato mayo salad – I chose tofu. It was a steal at $9.50.
If that was a half bowl of curry, I’d hate to know what a full bowl ($9) looked like. My chicken and tomato curry was fantastic – it was delicious, hearty and most impressively, clean-tasting thanks to an organic vegetable master stock. Apparently, the soups also contain the same organic stock so I have no doubt that they would also be fantastic. Meanwhile, my tofu salad, which contained only the freshest ingredients, effortlessly cut through the rich curry sauce. A small tub of soy sesame sauce was provided for a bit of extra flavour but to be honest, I thought it was perhaps a bit too salty and one-dimensional.
My meal was the perfect end to what was a long and stressful day. I was left feeling very full, very satisfied and very pleased about not bloating, despite consuming a curry. Okay, so this may not be the healthiest meal in the whole world (salt content was not minimal) but it’s a MASSIVE change from what I’ve been eating. I will definitely return to try their long lists of soups during winter as well as their sushi rolls in the cooler months. And if I’m feeling like a bit of non-Cadbury chocolate sugar? I’ll order a buckwheat pancake topped with seasonal fruits, cinnamon and organic honey, thanks. Not everyone needs a bosom for a pillow, but they certainly need a cheap Japanese eatery that churns out down-to-earth ORGANIC dishes!
Established in Sydney by American-born Phillip Blanco, Snag Stand arrived in Melbourne earlier this year and has proven to be a hit among those fed up with crappy $5 hot dogs at the ‘G and those who’d just missed out on snagging (tee-hee! Pun!) the last bratwurst roll at Queen Vic Market. Its central location makes it an ideal place for a quick bite before the train ride home and for lucky RMIT students looking for non-cafeteria options for lunch.
The dining room itself is bookish yet sexy (who says you can’t be both?!), perfect for two dating bookworms to discuss literary works over a few glasses of wines and nibbles. There is even a bookshelf in the dining room where diners are free to browse whatever books are on the shelves, though you certainly won’t find anything written by Stephenie Meyer.
It wasn’t even 5:30pm when we arrived, but the dimness and the coziness of the room convinced me that it was closer to 9pm outside. When the waiter asked us what we were here for, we replied ‘something to eat, please’ and was told that dinner didn’t actually start until ‘much later on.’ We were given the grazing menu instead, which consisted of four small dishes, none of which sounded particularly interesting, as well as the wine list. When the waiter returned, we asked him what time dinner actually started and just to make sure we were on the right page, Dave brought up the dinner menu on his iPhone. The waiter replied, ‘Oh, it’ll be 5:30pm in a few minutes! I’ll grab the other menu.’ Did that mean that dinner actually started at 5:30pm? If so, why were we told that they weren’t serving dinner until ‘much later on’? Seconds later, the waiter appeared with the dinner menu and said, ‘You can look at it, but we won’t take orders until just before 6pm.’ Well, that settled it then.
The Canadian scallop kebab (as in, kebab, singular)’s pricetag of $16 may initially seem steep to most but it’s a small price to pay for plump, succulent and MASSIVE scallop pieces that would have tasted just brilliant on their own. If Dave was writing this blog, he would have also said that they felt like a pair of supermodel’s tits so it’s just as well that I’m writing it, hey? Each scallop was wrapped in a bit of pancetta before being dressed in apple dressing, then topped with a piece of black fermented garlic. The pancetta added a lovely salty contrast to the sweet scallops and apple dressing, while the garlic added a slight piquancy to the scallops.
Next, we had the potted prawns with butter, shaved fennel, lemon zest and spices ($15). Served in what looked like an anchovy tin can, the prawns were hidden in an, in my opinion, excessive nest of shaved fennel that was cooked in an (admittedly) lovely butter and lemon zest sauce infused delicately with spices (I could taste the delicious cumin!). The kitchen helpfully added some thin slices of bread to mop up the fennel with, too.
While the prawns did taste fantastic, there was just way too much fennel and not a lot of prawn (I think there were about five or six pieces?). Thus, the dish did not exactly represent great value for money. Also, I would have preferred more butter and less lemon zest but this is due to personal preference more than anything.
Then came our braised lamb dish ($30). A bubbly British waitress asked us if we’ve had this dish before to which we both said, ‘no.’ She then explained that the best way to eat it was to eat it like a kebab.
First, spoon some Elvis-kind-of-tender lamb onto the flat bread provided (we got one each), then slather it with roasted garlic labne and quinoa salad. Next, fold up the thing and eat like you would a kebab. Given that we were given pita bread and NOT Turkish bread, I would have said ‘souvlaki’ and not ‘kebab’ but whatever.
The 
I approached the jacket sweet potato with smoked paprika aioli ($8) with a level of trepidation because, like I said before, I am not a fan of sweet potato. If the sweet potato was served on its own, I would have not enjoyed it. However, the creamy smoked paprika aioli did diffuse a lot of the sweetness that I’ve come to hate when eating sweet potatoes. Not bad.
We decided that we had enough room for dessert. Dave ordered the Valrhona chocolate and Earl Grey tea tart with lemon curd shot ($14). The tart was rich. Super-rich. It wasn’t unpleasantly rich, though, thanks to the high cream content, which gave the tart a lovely, smooth finish, and the Earl Grey tea flavour, which gave the tart a subtle smokiness. Next to the tart, there was a shot glass filled with lemon curd and topped with Persian fairy floss. While I understood that the kitchen was trying to demonstrate contrasting flavours and whatnot, we both thought that the lemon curd was way too tangy and sour to be presented next to the rich chocolate tart; the whole arrangement was just too awkward. Even Dave, who isn’t normally a fussy eater, couldn’t put down a spoonful of lemon curd.
Meanwhile, I chose the balsamic poached pear and vanilla mascarpone ($13) over the cheese platter. I liked my dessert better than I liked Dave’s; the vinegar accentuated the pear’s natural acids while still managing to retain its sweetness. Meanwhile, the vanilla mascarpone quenelle provided a wonderfully creamy contrast to the pear, though a little less sugar in the quenelle wouldn’t have hurt.
It’s only a small eatery that can fit 20 people at best, with several tables outside for those who like to dine al fresco. This place gets busy at lunch and we were worried that their Saturday breakfast sessions might be just as packed, but thankfully there was a spare table next to a bunch of annoying north-of-the-Yarra literary-wannabe types. I love the little touches that dot this place. From this cartoon (above), to the tattered childrens’ books that line the wall edges above the tables.
It took a while for our crêpes to arrive (fair enough – there was only one guy cooking crêpes for about 15 people) but when they did, we both sighed with contentment.
Marty ordered the Complète with a few variations. Normally at $9.50, it comes with egg, ham, mozzarella and butter but he decided that he wanted to try morbier cheese and add tomato in it so his crêpe ended up costing a few dollars more. While Marty loved his crêpe, he felt that the morbier was too strong – I had to agree and I didn’t quite like the subtle bitter aftertaste – and wished he had stuck with the mozzarella. Also, he was glad that he requested the tomatoes as their freshness cut through all the fattiness beautifully.
The taco kiosk, called Paco’s Tacos, is supposedly named after a Mexican revolutionary. This seemed apt to me, seeing as Australia is currently going through a Mexican cuisine revival where people are so over Taco Bill et al and in response, we’re seeing good quality Mexican restaurants and cafes popping up around the Eastern states of Australia. ‘¡Viva la Revolución!’ I say! Paco’s Tacos is open for lunch during the week, with extended hours from Wednesday to Friday to cater to the end-of-week drinks crowd. I had a day off the other week and so did Dave so we decided to catch up over some tacos.
Mr Tulk is an oldie but a goodie, a place where I’d sometimes grab a delicious latte to take away en route an exam at the Royal Exhibition Building. Funnily enough though, I’ve never actually sat down to have breakfast there. This is somewhat strange for someone who loves libraries (the café is attached to the State Library of Victoria and named after its first librarian, Augustus Tulk – what a boss name!) and who spends most of her waking hours in the city.
But anyway.
A lovely corner table sat prepared for us as Dave and I walked into the dining room, only to find that it was set for three people and not four. The waiter was initially embarrassed but quickly rectified this situation by arranging the cutlery around deftly before adding an extra chair, cutlery and a napkin for the fourth person. Nicely done. Once Dan and Marian arrived, our water glasses were filled, alcohol was presented (a Shiraz for Dave and I, and Gypsy pear cider for Dan)… and bread was provided though mostly ignored, as we didn’t want to pre-fill our tummies up too much.
I’m so used to sitting in Spanish restaurant that are often noisy, filled with loud and cheery music, hot and dimmed for atmospheric purposes. Although I don’t have an issue with them at all, I must admit that I did like the fact that The Aylesbury was different in terms of atmosphere. There was no music, it wasn’t hot, and the blinds were wide open so that you can actually see what you were eating. Of course, it’s not to say that the dining room was stilted – there were a comfortable level of laughter and conversation that permutated throughout the room… and an adequate amount of eye candy for my viewing pleasure as evident in the photo above (I may/may not be talking about Dan and Dave and/or the cuties behind them, or both, heh).
One thing I found amusing about The Aylesbury was the way they wrote their menus – most of their dishes are only described by the main ingredients that make up said dish. For example, this dish of paper-thin lomo (cured pork tenderloins) and figs was simply called ‘pig, fig’ ($12) on the menu, which Marian and I thought was extremely cute. Although I love eating jamon on its own, I liked that the sweet figs created a lovely contrast in flavours.
The others also enjoyed the cold smoked kingfish, dry olives, lemon ($16), though it didn’t really float my boat. I thought that the kingfish was salty enough as it is, and the fact that the dry olives made it even more salty meant that it was just too much for me. And this is coming from someone who loves her salty food. That said, everyone else on the table liked it so I happily let them take the rest of my portions.
The larger dishes took a while to arrive but when they did, we all ooh-ed over how pretty the wild boar, plum dish ($37) was… and WTF-ed over how tiny it was for the price we paid. Both Marian and I thought the meat was way too tough which made the pairing of the boar and the plums a tad awkward. There was no taste, no cohesion, no nothing. Had the meat been a little more tender, though, it wouldn’t have been as bad.
Thankfully, the dry-aged dorset hogget ($37) was kinder to our senses. A hogget is a sheep that’s been slaughtered after a year (so, older than a lamb but younger than mutton), so don’t go expecting meat to fall off the bone just like that should you decide to order a hogget at any restaurant. I thought it was odd that they’d even have this on the menu – to me, it just screamed out, ‘Stodgy British cuisine’ and ‘Lame-o Kiwi kitchen.’ But you know what? It wasn’t bad at all. Sure, the hogget pieces might have spent a little too long on the BBQ but it still tasted good. Marinated in an intoxicatingly Moorish mixture of ingredients, with chilli and cumin being the most dominant flavours, each piece was finger lickin’ delicious.
We also shared a side of duck fat potatoes ($8) – that’s potatoes cooked in duck fat, peeps. Although the potatoes could have done with a little more crunch on the outside, the insides were beautifully fluffy.
My Michel Cluizel maralum chocolate bar with saffron ice cream ($14). I don’t normally go for chocolate desserts, especially something as rich as this. The reason why I ordered this dessert, however, was because I’m a sucker for unusual (and in particular, savoury) ice creams so the saffron ice cream piqued my interest. The chocolate bar was a neat and tiny three-layered dense mousse which was oh-so-rich but yummy for what it was worth. The saffron ice cream, however, failed to woo. Its distinctive flavour was too overpowering and just clashed horridly with the chocolate bar. Saffron, stay out of desserts forever, please.
Dave’s peach, strawberry, cava ($14) fared a little bit better. On his plate were slices of poached peaches and fresh strawberries. A waitress then poured a generous amount of sweet cava wine onto the mound and we ooh-ed and aah-ed as the fruits fizzed upon contact with the alcohol. The dish struck a fair balance between delicate and bold – and it was fun to eat.
Dan and Marian shared a plate of petit fours in the form of a honey sponge cake, a chocolate truffle and a passionfruit meringue ($7). I managed to nibble on the chocolate truffle which was probably richer than my chocolate bar (yes, it was possible!) but nevertheless still delicious. Better was the honey sponge cake that had a lovely dense texture that was moist all over, while the passionfruit curd in the meringue was probably more sugar than actual passionfruit.
To say that the food was a hit and miss was certainly an understatement. Some dishes were below average while others were good, but none of them were particularly worth a second try. Both Dave and I, having already nibbled on some (much better) snacks upstairs at The Aylesbury rooftop bar, were adequately full (though not bursting) whereas Dan and Marian were still hungry, but not keen on ordering any more food from here. Plus, it was almost 8:15pm anyway, which was the time the 6pm session-ers had to leave the premises for the next lot of diners.
We started off with a serving of Joselito Gran Reserva Iberico jamon (20g for $18). This type of jamon comes from Iberican pigs which have been fed acorns. The result is dark, rosy-hued ham that’s as sleek and as oily as a muzza’s hair. At first bite, the ham is firm but it then gives way before melting into your mouth like a very, very salty butter. I loved it.
We had a prawn roll each ($8 each). While they weren’t enormous by any standards, they certainly did pack a punch – and Dave even went as far to say that they were better than the apparently OMG-SO-GOOD lobster rolls that they serve at Andrew McConnell’s Golden Fields. Having not been to Golden Fields prior to this point in time, I couldn’t really verify Dave’s claim (he’s probably the only person who hasn’t food-gasmed over these bloody lobster rolls).
I can, however, say that these prawn rolls were pretty damn good. Two small bun halves secured thick chunks of juicy Shark Bay prawns, bits of lettuce, fennel, parsley and aioli. Meanwhile, a squirt of lemon juice helped balanced things out and also brought out the prawns’ natural sweetness. Ooh yes, more please!
The last savoury nibble we tried were the smoked eel and horseradish croquetta ($3.50 each). I’m a sucker for croquettes, and even more so when they have fancy, Spanish names. They were beautifully crunchy on the outside, and amazingly silky on the inside. Neither Dave and I could taste the horseradish and the smokiness was only subtle at best, as the cheese drowned out much of the flavouring. Nevertheless, I still thought these were pretty tasty and I wouldn’t hesitate to order these again.
Now for desserts. First up, a granita, citrus and yoghurt ($7). For some reason, the menu description for this dish was really vague. What on earth was so hard about telling us what FLAVOUR the granita was, and what sort of ‘citrus’ they used?! Upon tasting the dish, we discovered that it was a grapefruit granita (like they couldn’t tell us?) which was then placed on top of a dollop of creamy yoghurt before being garnished with a slice of nectarine and shredded mint leaves. The whole thing worked very well, and although it wasn’t a terribly hot evening when we had it, it melted faster than a Fernando Verdasco serve.
Finally, we had churros with chocolate sauce ($10). Unfortunately, I couldn’t say I liked them much. Yeah, they were crunchy on the outside but the insides were pretty dense with overcooked dough, and not light. They were also coated with so much sugar that dipping them into the very rich chocolate sauce was unnecessary – I spent quite a lot of time trying to dust off as much sugar as I could from the donuts. It goes without saying that they were not even half as good as the Spanish donuts they serve at Queen Vic Market *sad face*
