I just came back from a week-long holiday on the not-so-sunny-at-the-moment Gold Coast. Yep, a city that’s usually basked in beautiful sunshine all year around except for 80% of the time I was up there. A city where even the store mannequins have bolt-ons. And a city where it’s okay to be driving 50 km/h on a friggin’ motorway (Queensland drivers, why the fark do you drive everrrrrr sooooo slooooowlyyyyyyy? *perplexed face*). As I wring the rain and sweat off my singlets and shorts, I sit back and reminisce about my time up there, and all the cafes and restaurants I visited. Take Three Beans in trendy Broadbeach, for example. As a Melbourne coffee snob, I wasn’t expecting much from this place. I mean, why should I when you’re in a city where overpriced but poor quality coffees are normal and where Starbucks is considered the benchmark of ‘good’ coffee?

Thus, I wasn’t surprised when I paid $4.90 each for a hot chai latte and an iced chai latte late one night. I can’t say much for Marty’s iced chai latte, but mine was sweet beyond recognition and the milk, cooler than the night’s air temperature of 21 degrees. Forget proper chai leaves, honey and all that jazz – all the flavouring came from a bottle. I hate to say this, but I would have been happier at Starbucks.

That said, this place is surprisingly popular with the locals and in hindsight, perhaps I should have come in the morning and ordered a normal latte instead. After all, that’s what everyone comes here for – a cup of Merlo coffee with a smile from the sassy barista who served me. Also, the one good awesome thing about this place is that it’s open 24/7. In a city where supermarkets close at 5pm on Sundays and where it’s hard to find a nice, chilled café, this is fantastic. Meanwhile, Melbourne may boast heaps of late-night restaurants and whatnot, but a coffee shop that’s open all around the clock is what’s missing (Please feel free to correct me though if you know any places that serve GOOD coffee all night). So yeah, while I liked the idea of this place and the chilled atmosphere on such a vibrant street, it was a shame that my chai latte wasn’t as hot as any one of the Gold Coast beauties that walked past as Marty and I people-watched that night.

Thankfully, I did manage to find a much better café in Gold Coast along with plenty of nice restaurants to boot. Stay tuned for more Gold Coast foodie adventures in the next couple of weeks (Melbourne readers who ain’t interested, feel free to look away).

Riding on the relative success of two visits to The Aylesbury’s rooftop bar, Dave and I excitedly arrived at its downstairs restaurant last Friday night. Our fellow dining buddies, Dan and his girlfriend, Marian, were also looking forward to the dinner – not only because it’s been a while since Dan had seen Dave and I but also because he felt like Spanish (or Spanish-inspired) food that night. After several unsuccessful attempts at booking a table at Anada on a night that suited all four of us, we decided on The Aylesbury. For a restaurant that claims to serve Spanish-inspired food, I thought The Aylesbury was an unusual choice of name. I’m not sure why they called it there – maybe there was some Queen Elizabeth I/Spanish Armada thing happenin’.

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.

I liked the atmosphere, I liked the hospitable service and I certainly liked the rooftop bar (a lot) but I can’t see myself going back to the restaurant again. All of a sudden, the thought of sitting squished up against a wall in a proper Spanish restaurant on Johnston Street with the smell of paella wafting through the hot air sounds very appealing indeed.

Now that Melbourne’s weather has somewhat stabilised into a constant stream of 30+ degree days, it’s time for us summer-loving folk to rejoice. By rejoice, of course, I mean going to one of Melbourne’s many rooftop bars to soak up some alcohol, some nibbles and  extended periods of sunshine once we’ve left the office for the day. The Aylesbury‘s rooftop bar is one place that I’d recommend if someone asked me what a good rooftop bar was. Situated above The Aylesbury restaurant, it’s accessible only by lift and as soon as the doors open on the fifth floor, you’re greeted by an L-shaped copper-topped bar with a small grazing area on the side. It’s all very small and intimate, which I like – though on Friday nights, it’s pretty much standing room only.

Dave and I went here twice in one week which shows how much we liked this place. Okay, not really. The first time, we went because we wanted dessert after eating at Kokoro Ramen and we visited a second time because we were planning to meet friends for dinner at the downstairs restaurant – and we, like losers, happened to be 45 minutes early. During our visit, we got to try a decent selection of the bar food that the rooftop had to offer, all while soaking in the very relaxed atmosphere. As we sipped our rather overpriced wines (I ordered a Vinteloper riesling from Clare Valley, not exactly a steal at $12 despite it being a very nice white while Dave went for a shiraz), we checked out the talent in the building – mostly young, urban professionals and most likely Spring Street-ers and Casselden Place-ers.

When you order several savoury snacks, some complimentary bread and olive oil will be provided. I’m not sure if I liked the bread – it was too hard and tasted very bland, but I did love the extremely rich and fruity olive oil that they gave us.

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 bar snacks at The Aylesbury ranged from ‘meh’ to delicious, but as long as we stick to what we liked (the jamon, the prawn burgers and the croquettes), then Dave and I would have no problems making this our home for post-work drinks and nibbles. The wines may be expensive by the glass (and looking at their online menu now, by the bottle too), but that’s no reason to not give their cocktails a go. Sure, the view might not be the best in the city – unless you think Casselden Place is an example of architectural genius and if you think Lonsdale Street is as pretty as a picture – but the intimate surroundings, the eye candy and all that lovely jamon certainly makes up for it.

In an attempt to have a bikini body ready for a week on the ‘Coast and for moshing around in tiny, tiny denim shorts and a bikini top at Big Day Out ’12, I’ve been extra, extra good with gym attendance. In addition, I’ve been stuffing my body with hot dogs, ice cream, chips and burgers all weekend – oh wait, Libs, you’re doin’ it WRONG. Sigh. I may not have a washboard stomach in a week’s time but hey, at least I can say that I’ve had my fair share of decent guilt-free food as was the case this afternoon at the new burger kid on the block, Huxtaburger.

Owned by the most-likely-Cosby-Show-fanatics dudes responsible for giving us Huxtable restaurant across the road, Huxtaburger has only been open for a millisecond but it’s already doing the rounds on Twitter, Facebook, food blogs and given that we’re in Hipsterland aka Smith Street, tumblr. I rocked up to Huxtaburger this afternoon after buying yet another pair of jeans (‘Aw, but Neuw were having a sale and c’mon, 50% off!’) and because it was close to 3pm, I thought that I’d be safe to avoid crowds – WRONG. Every single outside table was full, and only a couple of high stools inside the very, very tiny takeaway store were vacant. The concept is pretty simple: ‘Hot beef. Cold beer.’ You won’t find any fancy fillings, brioche buns or beers from microbreweries here – it’s just good ol’ honest diner-style burgers at Melbourne prices. There are only five burgers on the menu, from the basic ‘Huxtaburger’ to the cheekily-named ‘Denise’ which comes with jalapenos and sriracha mayo, a nod to the ‘hot one’ on the show. In addition, fries are available as well as a daily salad special – but seriously, who goes to a burger joint wanting a salad?

They were advertising ‘local beers’ for $5 and when I asked them what beers they said, the chick at the counter told me, “VB or Fosters.” The look one on my face must have freaked her out a bit because she then quickly said, “Oh, we had Carltons but they are sold out.” Uh, yeah, NO. Call me a beer snob but when was the last time one would voluntarily order one of those beers on Smith Street without wanting to make an ironic statement? Oh, right…

I ended up getting a 500ml can of Kepplers Irish cider ($9), a tall, dark and well-balanced formula that was also rough around the edges – like Colin Farrell. My Huxtaburger ($8) arrived on a tin plate, looking admittedly a little squishier for wear. I was expecting something, well, with a better posture and when I grabbed the damn thing with both hands, it deflated like a Swiss ball that gave way to a 150kg woman sitting on it. The bun was also a little oily, too. Thus, I was surprised when I bit into it … and saw that it tasted fantastic. The sweet bun held together a wagyu beef pattie that was so buttery and tender that it literally melted in my mouth, slices of tomato, lettuce, cheese and pickles. A generous squirt of mustard, mayo and tomato sauce completed the burger, which was only slightly larger than a Big Mac and cost twice as much. What made the burger especially awesome (and worth the price) was the bun. The slapped on a bit of butter all over the white non-crust bits, before letting the halves sit white-side down on the grill for a bit. As a result, it was not only crispy on the outside (despite the buns halves looking as limp as hell) but also on the inside – a lovely textural contrast when consumed in one bite with the fillings and it also made the burger taste that much better.

I regret not getting a side of fries, which were selling like hotcakes but I’ll give them a try when I order Huxtaburger’s equivalent of The Lot, aptly named ‘Bills.’ Given this burger joint’s popularity, I can only hope that they extend their premises or put out a couple more chairs and tables outside, at least. Get rid of the Fosters and VBs, churn out some milkshakes and we’ll soon see Cee Lo Green and his entourage of honeys crooning ‘Forget You’ at Huxtaburger.

You wouldn’t expect ramen to be on your list of top things to eat in the middle of summer but when Melbourne’s weather starts playing up (WTF? Snow this weekend?), a delicious and comforting bowl of ramen would certainly not go astray – especially since a new ramen restaurant, Kokoro Ramen, opened up on Lonsdale Street only a few weeks ago. Given that both Dave and I work in the vicinity of Kokoro Ramen, we decided to try this place out after work last night.

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.

Apparently, the ramen they serve at Kokoro is pretty close to the real thing. From the extensive menu, you can choose from a variety of flavoured tonkotsu (pork bone) bases, including miso and soy either with pre-selected toppings or you can build your own from a list of ingredients. Feeling hungry and indecisive at the same time? You can get the ramen with ‘the lot’ for $23.

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 Don Too at night) and the sprinkling of roasted sesame seeds in the broth. The whole thing was light, yet filling and it would have easily been the best ramen I’ve eaten had it not been for the overly salty-slash-bland-and-omg-is-that-an-oxymoron broth which counted for, well, almost everything.

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’m not sure what to think of this place. On one hand, I liked Dave’s ramen whereas mine was a bit ‘meh’ largely thanks to the broth which didn’t exactly get me as excited as seeing a photo of Tim Tebow’s shoulders. I also liked the fact that they didn’t use a lot of, if any, MSG in their broth. The problem, however, is that this made their tonkotsu shio broth almost bland. So while I’m glad that there is another ramen restaurant in Melbourne, I think that, for now, I’ll stick to Don Too or Momotaro Rahmen should I need my ramen fix.

It seems like all I’ve been eating these days is pho and dumplings. I don’t know why, but those two dishes are essentially the only thing I feel like eating when I eat out these days. Probably because they’re cheap, no-fuss and so damn delicious. Can you blame me? That said, I still have a backlog of non-dumpling and non-pho places to work on but for now, here’s another review of yet another dumpling restaurant. And hopefully the last one for a very, very long time (… no promises, though).

A few weeks ago, I decided to tram it up to Kew to get my dumpling fix at Chinese Jin Dumpling House. Earlier in the year, everyone’s favourite food critic, Larissa Dubecki, gave it a positive review in The Age. It would have been a good review too if it weren’t for the fact that the idiot has NO knowledge of regional Chinese food, and assumes that anything that is Chinese in Australia MUST be Cantonese. Fact-checking fail. Fairfax, please get your act together and hire writers who actually know what they’re talking about! Anyway, it was dead quiet when I rocked up one Saturday afternoon after a session at the gym, followed by a massive impulse shopping spree at Toscano’s (oops). Apart from an elderly couple sitting by the wall, there were no other signs of life in the dining room. I’m guessing that they draw more of a crowd during dinner.

It goes without saying that dumplings rule the very modest roost here. In addition to staples such as pork and cabbage, and chicken and chive dumplings, more unusual offerings such as lamb dumplings are offered. On the day I went, I choose a plate of fried pork, prawn, egg and leek dumplings (12 pieces for $11.80, or 16 pieces for the same price if you decide to have them steamed).

They weren’t bad. There was an even spread of pork mince and chopped prawn in each dumpling, intertwined with bits of egg and chives (which they called ‘leek’). The skins were thin and crispy, but lacked that little bit of puff that I like to see in my dumpling so I’ll take minor points off for that. They also didn’t have chilli oil available (which would have made the pork and prawn filling taste Michael Clarke triple-century-OMG-amazing) so chilli sauce and vinegar had to suffice.

It’s a nice enough dumpling restaurant, with a great selection of dumplings and I can certainly see myself coming here to work my way down the menu if I lived in the area. Unfortunately, Kew is a bit of a hike if you’re relying on public transport (hopefully this will change very soon as I will be taking my first manual driving lesson tomorrow morning!) so I can’t see myself making a return visit unless I have other business to attend to in the area. Hmm, maybe another ‘impulse shopping’ spree at Toscano’s should be on the agenda?

Waking up to temperatures of ridiculous proportions on New Year’s Day, Marty and I were in need of some fuel to soothe our tired, old bodies. But because the weather was so hot, we decided that anything heavy and greasy were a no-no. So where did we end up going for breakfast? Why, Victoria Street Richmond for some good ol’ phở, of course! To me, phở is the perfect meal for it is soothing, light yet filling at the same time – there was no way we could go wrong.

We ended up trying Pho Dzung Tan Dinh, otherwise known as the ‘cock and bull’ phở joint. There’s one in the city and I think there is one in Box Hill too, so it’s definitely made its mark around town. The place was packed when we walked in from the 34 degree midday heat. Yep, quiet it ain’t. Luckily though, there were a few spare tables in the (thankfully) air-conditioned restaurant.

I’ve been good to stay away from coffee but the weather and my general tiredness meant that there was no way I couldn’t NOT order an iced white coffee ($2.50, a steal even for a Vietnamese restaurant). The coffee might have lacked that jaw-punching sweetness that I’m used to (they went skint on the condensed milk), but they certainly made up for it in the bitter stakes for they did their best not to over-dilute the damn thing with too much ice. It was great and if Marty’s mid-morning snores didn’t wake me up beforehand, this coffee certainly did. Meanwhile, the man himself ordered a traditional Vietnamese three-colour drink which was a bit on the ‘OMG so bloody sweet!’ side – maybe that’s where all my condensed milk went? Either way, though, he loved it.

I ordered a small brisket and rare beef phở ($7.50). Despite being in such a small bowl, the contents did extremely well to fill me up. The soup was pure and clear, with very little MSG while the pieces of beef sitting prettily on top were actually of decent quality and cut very thickly. I also liked that they actually used nice, meaty bits of brisket unlike other places where you’d be lucky to find a little sliver of meat amongst all the brisket fat. Unfortunately, I didn’t particularly like the noodles. Obviously the dried noodles, as opposed to the fresh ones, were used and they were nowhere near as chewy as they should be. Instead, they crumbled in my mouth when I chewed them.

I didn’t take a proper photo of Marty’s large beef and tendon phở ($9.50) but thank goodness he’s a wannabe hipster who is crazy about Instagram at the moment so I’ve crabbed this photo from him. I should probably get him to take my food photos from now on, hey? Anyway, he was disappointed with the size of his bowl – he expected a birdbath-sized bowl, especially since I read a blog that said that the bowls were gigantic, but ended up with a bowl that would have been classified as a ‘medium’ at other phở restaurants. Like me, he enjoyed the broth and the thick, juicy strips of beef but thought the noodles were ‘meh.’

Although it certainly wasn’t the best phở restaurant we’ve both been to, we were nevertheless satisfied with our meals. We both walked out full (well, not Marty – he grabbed a banh mi for the ride home) and happy, having ticked off another phở restaurant on our long list of Victoria Street restaurants to try.

If you’ve made a resolution to lose weight, get fitter, lead a healthier lifestyle or any of the above combinations this year, here’s how to NOT spend the last few hours of 2011:

• Share five plates of dumplings at Hu Tong between two people (yes, we managed to eat every single dumpling!).
• Have beers, cocktails, schnapps and apple strudels at the German restaurant next door.
• Down several glasses of vodka and lemonade/cranberry at a NYE clubbing event.
• Eat a curry pie from Pie Face immediately after the compulsory viewing of Melbourne city’s fireworks show.
• Go back to aforementioned NYE clubbing event to use up the remaining free drinks card to score more vodka, instead of resting like the old people we are.

Trust me, you’ll spend most of January 1st 2012 curled up in bed in a foetal position a la Morrissey, feeling sorry for yourself.

That said, I don’t believe in regrets. Although our stomachs and probably our brains were paying for it this morning, Marty and I certainly didn’t regret walking into said German restaurant, Hofbräuhaus, after dinner last night for ‘just one drink.’ Having been frequent diners of various Market Lane institutions over the past couple of years, the fact that we’ve never stepped into Hofbräuhaus is astounding. Almost as astounding as our heroic dumpling-eating efforts at Hu Tong only a few moments ago. We were full after three servings of chilli oil dumplings and two steamers of xiaolongbao (as you would) so why we thought that having a drink immediately afterwards instead of going back to our hotel to rest our tummies was a good idea, I don’t know.

An offshoot of the original Hofbräuhaus am Platzl, the world’s most famous beer hall, in Munich, Melbourne’s Hofbräuhaus has been pouring many, many litres of Hofbräuhaus beer since 1968. Hofbräuhaus beer  is manufactured by Munich’s state-owned brewery with the same name, and is served in Hofbräuhausers all around the world. Melbourne’s Hofbräuhaus has also churned out hearty German fare and provided live music for dinner patrons in addition to the beers. Looking at all the diners tucking into steroid-like portions of pork knuckles, schnitzels and bratwursts kind of made me wish that we had come here for dinner instead of having dumplings (not that our dumplings weren’t fantastic but, you know, food envy) but hey, there’s always next time. Instead, we just headed to the bar to order some drinks.

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.

Just when we were about to keel over thanks to what seemed like a zillion grams of carb intake, we decided that having a shot of schnapps each would be THE most fantastic idea ever. No photos here, but I had a sour apple schnapps while Marty opted for his personal favourite, butterscotch ($6.50). I can’t vouch for Marty’s one, but drinking mine was like being punched in the mouth by a sour apple warhead on ‘roids – yep, that good. Had we been less sensible, we probably would have gone down the rest of the schnapps list, starting from non-sour apple finishing with chocolate. Next time.

We loved our time at Hofbräuhaus – the drinks were fantastic, and the staff so charming and friendly, with the presence of busty dirndl-clad waitresses being an obvious plus for many of the male patrons! The rich, homely dishes are probably a bit too much for me while the weather is this hot but they’re sure to be amazeballs when the temperature cools down.

For my final entry for 2011, I’ve decided to keep things cheap, nasty and simple: another review of yet another dumpling restaurant. Who would have thought?! This time, I’ll be writing about Original Taste of Northern China Cuisine in Box Hill (whew, what a name!).

On the Eve of Christmas Eve, my local Westfield Shoppingtown was trading until midnight to cater for those who decided to leave their Christmas shopping until the last minute. I’m certainly not one to start buying gifts two days before Christmas (why would I, when the last few years I’ve been giving my family members cash for Christmas?) so I had no need to take advantage of Westfield’s very generous extended trading hours. I did, however, want to walk around and take in the buzz and festive atmosphere of shoppers scrambling around for the perfect gift or two so I ended up making the trek to Shoppingtown. Knowing that such a trip would require lots of energy, however, I decided to make an early dinner stop at Box Hill for some dumplings.

According to the current edition of Cheap Eats, Original Taste opens at 5:00pm every evening so I timed my trip from the city to ensure that I arrived at around 5:15. When I got there, however, their door was shut, their floors were still being mopped and the chefs had not arrived. I asked a young man there (the son of the owner, apparently) if I should come later, he said that I was fine to come inside but that I can ONLY order dumplings as the mains could only be made by the ‘chefs’ who weren’t due to start until much later. This was somewhat misleading because it was like, why bother opening at 5pm if only a fraction of the menu was available?

Thankfully, however, I was only here for dumplings. I chose a plate of pork and Chinese cabbage dumplings which attracted a price of $7.80 for fifteen steamed ones, but for an extra $1 I went for fried ones. Given that it wasn’t busy (I was the only diner there – what a loner!) and given that dumplings shouldn’t take long to fry, I wondered why it took them 30 mins for my dumplings to reach the table. And to my disappointment, they were steamed and not fried. I told the waitress that I had asked for them fried and even told her that I had POINTED to the word ‘fried’ on the menu but she stubbornly retorted with, “No, you said steamed” and “You pointed to the word ‘steamed.” This annoyed me more than that Hussey dismissal at the Boxing Day test earlier this week for I am very much a fried dumplings person and never order them steamed if I’m dining on my own. Secondly, I pointed to the word ‘fried.’ I made sure of that. Hell, it’s not like I have fat fingers either so there’s no way my pointer finger would have accidentally landed on the word ‘steamed.’

Eventually, the waitress submitted and quickly said that she’ll get the kitchen to fry the dumplings. She apologised and said that it would take another 10 minutes, which was fine with me. See? That wasn’t so hard, wasn’t it? My fried dumplings eventually arrived and I attacked them with ferocity. Unfortunately, they didn’t have chilli oil at the restaurant so I had to make do with vinegar. The dumplings weren’t the best I’ve ever had – and they were certainly NOT worth the 40 minutes I had to wait for them. Sure, the filling was lovely – a beautiful mixture of pork mince, coriander, ginger and Chinese cabbage with a hint of sweetness. The skins, however, were a fail. They were too thick, too soggy and too gluggy with no crisp factor whatsoever.

I wanted to like this place but if I were to judge it on one dish alone (unfair, I guess, but such is the way things are), then I can’t say that I’ll be going back again. As a consolation though, the stash of sweet treats that I bought from Happy Lab at Shoppingtown later that evening did make up for such a stodgy dining experience. Squee! On that note, I would like to wish you all a very Happy New Year. See you in 2012

I know I’m probably a bit late in saying this, but I would like to wish all my readers a very Merry Christmas and a safe New Year! I hope that the lead-up to Christmas Day hasn’t been too stressful or too draining for you, and I hope that you had a wonderful day of fun, laughter and lots and lots of yummy food with your loved ones today. We normally have some sort of meal at our house but this year, we were a bit slack with organising something so we decided to take the easy route and have yum cha for lunch. No stressful trips to Queen Vic Market’s seafood hall on Christmas Eve, no slaving away in the kitchen for hours, whipping up gingerbread houses, chucking them in the oven and then forgetting about them as you go off and watch Carols By Candlelight, and no more leftover Christmas ham that will eventually form lunch for the next two weeks.

So why, oh WHY, the fudge did I decide to torture myself yesterday by going to Queen Vic Market when I had nothing that I needed to buy? Why did I think it would be a good idea to wander around the seafood hall, getting squashed by frantic mums and dads desperately stocking up on cooked prawns, Moreton Bay bugs and trout? Why didn’t I just stay home? I don’t know. I must be a masochist. Nevertheless, I ended up leaving with a bag of walnuts, a bag of sweet cherries at $10/kg (BARGAIN!), bananas at 50 cents/kg and a bag of organic salad greens at $5/kg so my trip certainly wasn’t a waste.

To reward myself for my efforts, I decided to head over to Middle Fish cafe, this Southern Thai cafe that had just opened up on Berkeley Street with very little fanfare only a couple of weeks ago. You wouldn’t think it, folks, but inside one of those warehouse-looking structures lives what I reckon is Melbourne’s coolest Thai eatery.

Stepping away from the heat of the sun and into the cool (both temperature-wise and style-wise) warehouse was a relief to my senses. I couldn’t get over how cool everything was, from the booths formed from old train carriage sleepers to the chandeliers which were made out of metal Thai rice bowls to the funky traditional Thai-inspired industrial artwork by Thai artist, Torlarp Larpjaroensook. Nope, you wouldn’t find any purple walls or skinny Buddha statues here. Just fun, eclectic and unpretentious steez. While it’s true that the warehouse thing has been done to death in Melbourne, somehow owners Thai-born Pla and her Aussie partner, David, have ensured that Middle Fish was Not Another Friggin’ Hipster-Warehouse-Bullshit-Eatery. It may be because the warm and friendly personalities of both Pla and David replace the snide attitudes of some of the staff that work in some of those places. Or because the menu consists of not paninis and free-range eggs done 10 billion ways but rather simple Southern Thai dishes, accompanied by an array of cold drinks by the bottle or coffee by Five Senses. Whatever it is, this is a place that I’d be sure to frequent quite a bit next year given that it’s so close from Melbourne University, where I’ll be doing my new Masters course.

It was almost three o’clock when I visited, and thus expected the place to be getting ready to close. ‘No,’ said Pla, cheerfully while indicating to the sign above the counter. ‘Of course, we’re still open for lunch.’ I plunked myself gratefully at a table in the corner and studied the menu, which was divided into breakfast items, specials (‘try this’, it urged on the menu), salads and soups/curries. The head chef, Pla’s aunty, is from Southern Thailand, which means the food is as well so don’t come in expecting Massaman beef curries, pad thai or even Thai fish cakes here. Instead, expect dishes such as Southern Thai dish curry soup with crab leg meat, and caramelised pork belly fried rice, or the local favourite, tom yum with Queensland banana prawns and rockling fillets. Had the weather been cold, I would have chose one of those dishes but because it was hot, my eyes darted to the salad section instead.

I ordered my food, while sipping some ice, cool water and read the latest Frankie magazine. Not long after, Pla returned with an amuse bouche of half a son-in-law egg. Although I prefer Teage Ezard’s sticky, gooey son-in-law eggs from Gingerboy, this one was still pretty good. The yolk was not quite hard, thus allowing the delicate flavours of the tamarind, palm sugar and chillies to seep through the centre. A great start.

My som tum, a Thai-style spicy fruit salad ($12.50). Pla did warn me that it was spicy and asked if I could handle the heat. ‘Pfft, of course, I’m Indonesian,’ I said, perhaps a little arrogantly but I guess Pla would have got the last laugh because although I managed to finish the salad off without begging for milk, it was still reasonably spicy! Later on, David explained that there are many variations of this dish in Thailand, and the most popular ones use green papaya and other fruits that you can only get in Thailand. They’ve had to be a little creative with the ingredients here but I reckon they did a pretty good job. Instead of green papayas, I got apples. I also got sweet pineapples, sliced cherries, carrots and salad greens. It was all held together by a sweet, tangy sauce that was oh-so-hot but at the same time, refreshing. I also loved the saltiness that the dried pieces of shrimp gave, and also the crunch of the peanuts. This dish reminded me so much of the Indonesia’s equivalent, the fruit rujak, but I prefer the som tum a little bit better, heh!

I also bought another salad dish to take home with me, a North-East Thai beef salad ($12.50), probably the only Northern Thai dish on the menu. Like the som tum, this salad was also very flavoursome and fresh, but thankfully not as spicy. The vegies – sliced red onions, chopped spring onions, coriander and salad greens – were obviously beyond fresh while the fatty minced beef proved to be excellent in mopping up the chilli, lemon and lime dressing while elsewhere, bits of roasted rice provided that extra crunch. This dish is traditionally served hot, so by the time I dug into it at home several hours later, it was starting to lose some of its shine. It was still good, but the flavours weren’t as intense so I ended up shoving half of it in the fridge for next time. Next time was supper this evening when I awoke from my long siesta, somewhat hungry. For some reason, I couldn’t be bothered heating the salad up so I ended up eating it cold. And you know what? It was magnificent. The flavours magically intensified in the cool air overnight, and made the whole thing taste so much better. I probably would have preferred this cold version over the, dare I say it, hot version.

I know I’ll be back multiple times in the new year to try their richer curry dishes for dinner, their banana roti with condensed milk for breakfast, or simply to just chill on the couches with a juice or a coffee (if I end up drinking it again) before class. I may as well enjoy Middle Fish while it’s still in its baby stages because I can only imagine that it’ll be overrun by hipsters and Melbourne Uni students when they find out about this place, the next best eatery to have been established next to the university since Seven Seeds.