Snag Stand
Cnr Latrobe and Swanston Street
Melbourne VIC 3000
+61 3 9639 6544
snagstand.com.au
It seems that Sydneysiders have a thing for turning simple, no-frills street food into fancy, high-end versions of themselves. Just like Heidi Middleton and Sarah-Jane Clarke have done to a humble pair of black leggings (slap on some PVC and a price tag of $200 a pop, and watch everyone go wild), others in Sydney have done the same thing to food including burgers (Neil Perry, Rockpool), rice paper rolls (Nahji Chu, Miss Chu) and the classic meat pie (Wayne Homschek, Pie Face). Then there’s the whole taco reinvention thing, but let’s not get into that today. Of course, something as modest as the hot dog ain’t exempt from this sort of treatment – and with that, I present you Snag Stand.
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.
According to Blanco, Snag Stand differentiates itself from other hot dog providers because of the high quality ingredients used. Here, the sausages are hand-crafted, rather than bought in bulk from Coles; their casings natural, rather than synthetic and no artificial colours or flavours are used. The sausages come from all sorts of trusted suppliers around the country, with the Melbourne branch receiving most of their snags from Jonathan’s Butchery in Collingwood. Thus, one can reasonably expect that, for $6-10, their ‘haute’ dog will be one of designer quality.
The first time I went, I had the American classic ($6.90). The frankfurter was wood-smoked, presumably to give it a bit of dimension, and the bun, a toasted brioche. In between, the standard yellow mustard, tomato sauce, onions and sweet green pickle relish made appearances. The result was, well, something that tasted a little bit fancier than your $2.49 hotdog from Costco, except that you didn’t get free softdrink refills at Snag Stand. As an aside, Marty did make a comment on how the green sauce looked a lot like a caterpillar – heh!
On my second visit, I decided to go ooh-la-la-super-fancy by ordering the Toulouse, which was just shy of $10. It seems that the toasted brioche roll is the default bread option here because it made an appearance yet again, this time with sautéed onions, rosemary, mushrooms and truffle aioli along with a Bangalow pork sausage. Although I liked the sausage, which had a lovely rustic taste, I did feel that the truffle aioli overpowered what would have been a deliciously rustic and earthy-tasting hot dog with attitude (even if there was barely anything French about it – except for the brioche and err, I guess the ‘truffles’).
The chips here aren’t bad, either. For $3.90, I got a small tub of crunchy, roughly cut chips, which were made out of Tasmanian russet potatoes. Yarms. I also got some fresh herb aioli to go with it ($1 per tub). In hindsight, I should have chosen a tub of curry ketchup or chipotle mayo simply because I was already getting a healthy dose of aioli on my Toulouse hot dog but that’s not to say that the herb aioli was bad.
In short, Snag Stand is definitely a breathe of fresh air and one of the few ‘haute street food’ franchises from Sydney that I am actually pleased to see (now, if only Pie Face would just eff off, kindly). Sure, nothing will ever beat a classic bratwurst from Queen Vic Market but this comes pretty close. While I’m in no real rush to order the over-powering Toulouse snag, I will definitely order the American classic again. That is, after I’ve tried some of the other enticing options on the rotating menu such as the Greek (using a lamb, rosemary and oregano sausage, of course) and the currywurst.
On that note, I’m off to Sydney tomorrow for the weekend. While I’m not looking to encounter any designer satay cafes nor am I keen to eat a single pie, I’m definitely looking forward to finally trying the famed snow egg dessert at Quay and eating my way through a leisurely lunchtime degustation at Sepia.
But Amimoto is anything but unwelcoming and the waitresses are certainly NOT creepy. Despite a very wet Gold Coast day, the atmosphere was warm inside thanks to the lively chatter created by the lunchtime patrons and by the ever-smiling waitresses. It was just after the lunch peak period, so Marty and I were able to find a spare table right next to a businessman enjoying an impressive-looking chirashisushi bowl.
While head chef Hidekatsu Fujino chopped his way through an aquarium’s worth of raw fish, we studied the extensive menu that seemingly comprised of bento boxes, though there were several a la carte items available such as hot rice dishes, sushi platters and chirashisushi. In hindsight, I should have chosen the chirashisushi for it seemed to be popular with Queensland bloggers and it certainly looked good in real life (I’m referring to the chirashisushi, of course, not the businessman). Not to worry, though, for the bento boxes weren’t too bad themselves.
I ordered the makunouchi bento ($20), which read like a ‘The Best of’ compilation. It came with sashimi, tempura pieces (prawn, sweet potato, normal potato and eggplant), salted grilled salmon, a small salad, rice and miso soup. Yep, the best of everything. It would have been a fantastic meal if everything was decent but alas, it was a hit and miss. For example, the sashimi pieces – salmon, tuna and kingfish – were wonderfully fresh while the tempura batter was as flat as my hair sans surf spray. That said, I did like the tempura (normal) potato – it tasted like a potato cake-slash-scallop! A far cry from the amazingly light, airy and crispy tempura pieces that I enjoyed at 
Marty ordered the ‘H Set’ ($18) which was the eighth bento box on the list of about twenty. It was an all sushi affair with cuttlefish, egg and scallop sushi pieces joining the standard trio of tuna, salmon and kingfish. Martin thought his sushi pieces were ‘okay’ but like me, didn’t think it was the best. In addition, we both thought that including a bowl of rice to this bento box was odd (hello? It was all SUSHI!) but the miso soup was a welcome addition.
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.
We arrived on time for our 8:30pm booking and were greeted by a friendly Irish waiter. The place was humming, and we were told that our table was not yet ready so we were seated for drinks near the bar whilst we waited for an outdoor table to become available. Libby ordered the appropriately named Cairns Cooler ($14), which was a mixture of Absolut Vodka and Malibu shaken with pineapple, cranberry and a hint of passionfruit. She found the drink to be ‘pretty good’ as it was fun and flirty – great value for $14. My Gingerpears (also $14), however, didn’t fare so well. On paper, it sounded great – Absolut Pears, apple liqueur, lime and Cascade ginger beer, yum! However, sweet and refreshing as the drink was, it just lacked the crisp-ness I was, for some reason, expecting from it.
So after a stern speaking-to from Libby, the guy profusely apologised. While ‘Sorry, we forgot about you guys!’ wasn’t what we had wanted to hear (yeah, yeah, go away before I hit you with a bottle of Guinness), at least we were making progress. Thankfully, a much nicer waitress looked after us for the rest of our evening, ensuring efficient service. With a pier-side table overlooking the marina and menus ready to go, my rage slowly subsided when our buffalo wings ($16) arrived.
Char-grilled and basted in Waterbar’s signature ‘Lekker’ sauce, the wings did not disappoint. They struck the right balance between sweet, hot and sticky and the accompanying blue cheese dip was not needed as wings were already flavoursome thanks to the thick coating of Lekker sauce (We later found out that ‘lekker’ is a South African expression for ‘tasty’ or ‘cool’, probably an attempt to make the menu sound more ‘ohh-ahh exotic, bru!’ … pfft, lame).
Our mains arrived soon after, mine being a full rack of pork ribs combo ($46) for the birthday boy. The ribs were also basted in Lekker sauce and grilled to tender perfection served with a handful of chips (we also had the option to choose a baked potato in place of chips).
Libby had the half-ribs combo ($46). Along with the half-ribs and chips, she was also given a choice of chicken, boerewors or steak and she choose the steak, a 200g piece of medium-rare sirloin. It was accompanied by a decent mushroom sauce, an extra $4.50 or thereabouts.
And, finally, to share, I just had to try an Espatada skewer ($34), which I had eyed some other diner eating before. The dish was essentially 250g of rump steak pieces marinated in a red wine and chilli sauce, presented on a dangly hook. We also got some garlic mash to go with it too.
