Paco’s Tacos
Level 1 500 Bourke St
Melbourne VIC 3000
+61 3 9663 3038
http://www.pacostacos.com.au/
I’m supposed to be packing for Cairns but because I’m lovely and because I love you, my dear readers, too much I decided to write a quick blog before I go. Ah, the things I do for you guys. Okay, on with the story. When I heard that my beloved MoVida Terraza was closing, I wept like a mofo. But when I heard that the MoVida guys were replacing it with a taco kiosk, my mood instantly lifted. Tacos on a terrace? Can’t argue with that!
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.
At Paco’s, all tacos are ‘only’ six dollars. This is probably laughable if you’re coming from the US of A and are so used to 99 cent tacos that are actually GOOD but hey, this is Australia so it’ll be a while (if ever) before we can see cheap and good quality tacos. But anyway. I ordered two tacos, the chorizo taco and the carne asada taco.
The chorizo one, a new addition on the menu, consisted of chopped grilled chorizo pieces, grilled corn kernels, and jalapeno salsa. Fresh sprigs of coriander and chopped spring onions completed the package. To be honest, I can’t say that this taco was particularly fantastic. The soft shell corn tortillas tasted and felt like they weren’t lightly toasted like they SHOULD be, and in fact, were verging on dry – like they had been sitting in room temperature for some time. This, of course, ensured that the tacos weren’t fantastic to begin with, but the filling did little to redeem it – I felt that the elements didn’t mesh well together at all.
The same went for the carne asada, which contained braised beef, chipotle and pico de gallo. The description was enough to make me go loco but sadly, I was let down. The braised beef came with its stew, a runny mixture of spices which would have tasted alright – just not on tacos! The juices made the taco shells soggy, and ripped it apart before I was even a third of the way into my taco (which had already fell apart). It was frustrating getting juices all over my hands – and it was a damn shame they didn’t have cutlery either.
I ordered a piece of BBQ corn ($6) on the side. One big ear of corn, held together by wooden skewers, landed in front of me drizzled in chipotle mayo, queso cheese and lime. Given my lacklustre tacos, I wasn’t expecting much but to my surprise, I found myself enjoying the corn more than the tacos. I’ve yet to try Mamasita’s much-lauded version of the same dish but I would imagine that it’d be as good as this. I loved the lovely combination of creaminess, saltiness aided with a bit of acidity and smokiness with each bite of corn. My only complaint? It was too friggin’ big, and I struggled to eat the whole thing (this was after I ate my two tacos which weren’t enough to fill my stomach up) – I think Paco’s should cut the corn in half, charge $3 (or even $4) for them so that they are more manageable to eat.
Dave had two tacos to start off with, the camarones (prawn, pepita sauce and salsa verde) and the pescado (marinated fish, chipotle and radish). Unfortunately, the lack of cutlery and the easy-to-fall-apartness of the tacos made it extremely difficult for us to share so I didn’t get to try his, and vice-versa. I will say that his fish taco looked a lot better than the monstrosity they served at Wahoo’s, though. Meanwhile, Dave’s only comment was that he preferred the tacos they served at Mamasita’s.
He was still hungry after that so he ordered the pato asado taco, something of a ‘gourmet taco’ with its roasted duck, spicy mole and lime-marinated red onion filling. Like the first two he had, it wasn’t too bad – and I made some comment about it probably tasting like Peking duck – but again, Mamasita’s won in the tastes stakes.
Although I was initially excited about this taco kiosk, I ended up leaving disappointed – disappointed that I will never have a delicious lunch at MoVida Terraza again and disappointed that six dollars will give you a less-than-awesome taco in Melbourne. ‘Oh, but you’re paying for authenticity!’ one might argue. A roast duck taco? I don’t think so! It’s fine if they tasted good, but not if they’re mediocre. Meanwhile, you get places like Guzman Y Gomez in Queensland and New South Wales that sell three tacos for $10.50 – and not only are they fantastic, their soft shell ones don’t fall apart either. Oh, and they actually fill you up too.
So while most people are happy with with Mexican revival business going on, I think I can speak for most when I say that said revival needs to bring in GOOD food.
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*
The restaurant opens for dinner at 5pm, great for early diners like us (which is essentially another way of saying that we’re old *sob*). They have, however, decided to extend their hours to cater to the lunch time crowd so I’m guessing that those with a craving for ramen at 3:30pm would be sated.
After ordering at the counter (but not waiting patiently behind a pair of teenyboppers who took FOREVER to make their selections), we made our way back to our table and waited patiently for our food to come. It wasn’t long between our shared entrée of 10 gyoza ($5.50) arrived. For $5.50, the gyozas were definitely a steal. I loved their delicate yet sturdy, paper-thin skins and their ultra-crispy bottoms as well as the soy dipping sauce that had a small hint of chilli in it. What didn’t impress me as much, however, was the filling for it lacked in pork but had a motherload of cabbage and garlic.
I ordered a tonkotsu shio (pork bone and chicken base with salt) ramen with chashu ($12). In hindsight, I should have ordered a ramen with a tonkotsu shoyu (soy) base for I felt that this soup was too salty. This was surprising given how I am normally a sodium fiend. That said, I did appreciate the clarity of the soup which had very little, if any, MSG though others would probably say that it was verging on the edge of blandness – something that I would have agreed to if I was in a grumpier mood that night.
Elsewhere, the hand-made noodles were surprisingly thinner than what I’m used to. Whether they’re actually of this width in Japan, I’m not sure. They were amazingly chewy and firm, giving way to a bite that’s bigger than Bill’s from True Blood. They were also generous with the slices of chashu (roast pork) which were thick and the edges, appropriately fatty. I also give props to the tea-smoked egg which was still gooey in the middle (though it has nothing on the tea-smoked eggs that they serve in ramens at 
Dave chose better with his tonkotsu miso (pork bone base with soybean paste) ramen with butter and corn ($14.50). There was a civilised balance between the levels of nuttiness and spiciness which already meant that it was better than my ramen. The sweet corn kernels also brought out the beautiful flavours, and the melted slabs of butter gave the broth a slightly creamy texture. They also popped in a couple of slices of charshu in the mix, too.
I started off with a cocktail, an apple, mint, lime, lemonade and vodka one ($11.50), perfect on a balmy summer evening. I apologise for the fact that only a fraction of the cocktail glass appears in the frame – the only other photo of the cocktail (i.e. a FULL glass) happened to have Marty’s face in the background and he’d get sooky if I posted that pic up so unfortunately, this would have to do. Although they were a little tight on the alcohol content, my cocktail made up for it in taste. So fresh, so light and so zesty – it was the perfect drink for a balmy summer evening. I’m definitely going to be making this at home all summer long. Meanwhile, Marty ordered a one litre glass mug of Hofbräu Dunkel ($22), a dark beer which existed in Munich long before the arrival of light-coloured beers. Marty and I were just as wowed by the impressive, thick, creamy head that was formed during the pouring process as we were by the beer’s beautiful balance of spiciness, maltiness and sweetness. It was also surprisingly very light to drink, though drinking a litre of it is certainly no easy task!
We also decided to share an apple strudel ($12.50), just because. A generous slab of strudel arrived, surrounded by a custard-y vanilla cream and a scoop of vanilla ice cream and berries. Meanwhile, pistachio crumbs and chocolate flakes made it pretty. Although the strudel filling was delicious, the pastry lacked the required crispiness that I’m accustomed to (trust me, you have NOT tasted a good strudel if you’ve never tried a Corica apple strudel from Perth) so it wasn’t fantastic. That said, I’ve yet to come across a better-tasting strudel in Melbourne so I’ll give fair props to this one.
We decided to share three dishes. First up, a plate of pan-fried pork dumplings (12 pieces for $8.50). Each thick-skin beauty was filled with a generous glop of pork and coriander mixture which had a sweet edge to it. I don’t normally like dumplings (or any savoury dish, for that matter) which err on the sweet side but for some reason, I thought these weren’t bad at all. Plus, I had good ol’ chilli oil to diffuse some of the sweetness. Meanwhile, the skins were as thick as the cankles of this annoying lady I work with but surprisingly not soggy or overly doughy. That said, the dumplings could have done with a bit more time in the hot oil for extra crispiness.
On par with the pan-fried dumplings were the xiaolongbaos, or ‘steamed Shanghai pork dumplings,’ (7 pieces for $8). Like the pan-fried dumplings above, the fillings in these beauties were generous, however that meant that there was less breathing room for the all-important soup. Thus, the amount of soup we got in each dumpling was negligible. Oh, and the skins were perhaps a bit thicker than what I’m used to as well when it comes to eating xiaolongbaos. Sure, they were tasty enough but I’d rather my xiaolongbaos come from Hu Tong’s kitchen, thanks.
We were originally going to get one noodle dish each, but thankfully we played it safe and ordered just one to share between us for we were half-full by this stage. Although I had my eye on some dan-dan noodles, it was actually Matt who chose a bowl of beef brisket in noodle soup ($9.50) for us. And I’m glad I agreed with his choice. A surprisingly big bowl of steaming hot beef-flavoured broth filled with slippery, long hand-pulled wheat noodles arrived as we were munching on our dumplings. And although we both found the amount of beef brisket in our bowl annoyingly minuscule and the length of the noodles a pain in the arse (chipping them away with chop sticks proved to be a challenge for the two of us), we both thought this noodle soup was a winner. We both loved the stock soup that would have been slowly cooked for hours and hours, allowing the flavours of the beef bone to seep and permutate with the beautiful spices and coriander – lots of it. Oh yeah. What really made the dish a winner, however, were the noodles. The beautiful long, ribbons of slippery, un-even, chewy, gluten-y goodness. Hell yeah.This is a dish that’s definitely one to return to for winter.
We nibbled on some olives and bread while we studied the menu. Although Yak specialises in pastas (which only come in one size – they don’t come in entree/main sizes, here), there is also a small selection of non-pasta dishes such as lamb shanks, fish and veal for those who aren’t big on pasta. Bypassing the entrée menu and going straight to the mains, the two of us eventually chose two different pasta dishes – and not one of them was the famous Yak Vincigrassi. I can’t decide whether it was the offal that had put us wimps off or whether we felt that our eventual choices, at the time, sounded more appealing and ‘wow’ than the lasagne, though.
I had the bread maltagliati with prawns, fennel, saffron, tomato and white wine ($24). Maltagliati is essentially pasta sheets that have been chopped up into random shapes, or the unwanted leftover bits of pasta that usually gets discarded at the end of the pasta-making process. The lovely pieces of jaded pasta intertwined neatly with prawns so fresh that you could really taste the sea in the flesh and a subtle tomato-based sauce that was accentuated with hints of fennel, saffron and white wine. You could also tell that the sauce had been infused by prawn heads, giving it that distinctively nutty and salty edge to it. The whole thing tasted amazing, but what I really loved about the dish was the texture of the pasta – it was silky, yet coarse at the same time thanks to the breadcrumbs that were kneaded in the dough before being pressed out of the pasta machine. Delicious.
Dave had the tagliatelle with veal, mortadella and eggplant involtini poached in pomodoro ($24). For some reason, I sensed a bit of Wiener schnitzel action happening, I dunno why given that the lovely piece of veal was slow-cooked rather than crumbed. Man, I’m weird sometimes. But anyway, Dave’s dish was just as delicious as mine – the meat was so tender and buttery thanks to the slow-cooking process and the tomato sauce in which it was cooked in (why couldn’t they just say tomato instead of trying to be all fancy by saying ‘pomodoro’?! pfft) held the slippery ribbons of pasta, the mortadella and the eggplant involtini together brilliant. Effortlessly smooth.
We were pretty much full at this stage and thankful that we didn’t order an entrée each. Strangely enough, however, we both had just enough room for a dessert to share so we ordered a serving of Italian donuts stuffed with pistachio ice cream and served with baked blood orange ($12.50). I’ve never had Italian donuts, known as bomboloni, before but I guessed that they’d be similar to the Greek loukamades or the Turkish delight donuts that are famous at Maha. They were very similar to the aforementioned donuts, but not as crunchy on the outside. Nevertheless, they tasted great with the pistachio ice cream, all gritty and delicious, contrasting very nicely with the slightly sour baked blood orange .
If you’ve never heard of Oddfellows, don’t feel too bad. Its unfortunate location on the other end of the city (relative to where I work) means that I probably would have never heard of its existence if it weren’t for the e-mail, which claimed that Oddfellows boasted ‘THE best artisan pizzas in Melbourne.’ Mmmm, big call. Secondly, it’s located just off Lt Lonsdale Street so while it’s only a hop and a jump away from the ever-popular Madame Brussels bar, it’s a bit hard to find. Once you arrive, however, you are greeted by the warm smiles of the owner, Angelo, who, during our meal, continued to provide friendly and efficient service. The menu itself is pretty pub food-ish, with a few modern tweaks to appease food snobs. Think The Metropolitan on William Street, which used to be a regular trivia joint for me and my colleagues (funnily enough, I’ve never written a review of that place – that’s on my ‘to do’ list), but with less diners, even on a Tuesday night.
Given that Oddfellows is all about the pizzas, Mitch and I decided to go with two pizzas to share. First up, the norcina ($17). This pizza was chosen because the e-mail claimed it to be a staff favourite and on paper, I can see why. Topped with pork and fennel sausages, caramelised onion, mozzarella and Napoli sauce, the combination sounded very tempting indeed. Combine that with a dough that’s been mixed in with beer to give it a malty flavour, you can also see why I had somewhat high expectations. Unfortunately, it didn’t really induce a helluva lot of ‘foodgasms’ on our end – the whole thing was perhaps a little bit flat (I wonder what beer they used in the dough…), and the caramelised onions were a bit too acidic and sour for our tastes – this brought down what could have been a ‘yeah, not bad, hey?’ pizza. Having said that, though, at least they weren’t as bland as the pizzas they serve at The Metro.’
We both, however, thought the saporita was good ($17). Slices of mushrooms and salami shared a mixed tomato-bechamel base with a winning cheese duo of parmesan and mozzarella. Again, the foodgasms never arrived but we were both satisfied with our choice – the pizza didn’t have the oomph that Ladro’s awesome flat pizzas will ever have but for a dime-a-dozen CBD pub-type pizza, it was decent. Way better than The Metro.’
Oxford Scholar’s chicken parma isn’t the best, but it’s not the worst I’ve had. It wasn’t overly big compared to others I’ve had, but the fact that there was no sign of dry breast meat (a cardinal sin) made up for it. Taste-wise, I felt that the Napoli sauce could have done with a bit more flavour (you know when there’s something not quite right when the flavour is coming from the Virginian ham, and not the sauce) and the chips, which weren’t overly crunchy, were cooked in very old tallow which gave them a slightly nasty smell. That said, I ate it all (mostly because I was so friggin’ hungry) and it wasn’t overly expensive anyway.
