This dish gets my vote as Melbourne’s most delightful looking bowl of food for under a tenner. In fact, the Sashi Don (salmon on rice) at Don Don is only $7.70. Uh huh…you read right…$7.70. But then you won’t find anything over $8.00 at this jazzy, “quick as you order you’ve got it” cheap eats joint.

A generous bowl of steamed rice is covered in pickled ginger, sliced abura-age (seasoned fried beancurd), shimaya shibazuke (purple pickled cucumber), tamago yaki (Japanese omelette), fresh salad mix and succulent slices of sashimi quality salmon, presented in a wonderful rosette.

One can not help but feel extremely virtuous tackling this bowl of healthy good-looking goodness.

A long time coming, but I finally got to sample the little red box I’d heard so much about from Cafe Vue. This $15 lunchtime treat is guaranteed to please even the most ardent of gourmand palates. It is cheeky and pretentious, decadent to the extreme and absolutely delightful. The experience goes thus:

Gently slide the red cardboard sleeve from the box. Ooooh and aaahhh just a little as you clap your hands together in excitement. Take stock as you lift out the menu and scan it for your forthcoming degustory experience. Reach in and grab the first pack. Unwrap. Salivate. Consume. Don’t forget to chew or swallow. Ooooh and aaahhh just a little bit more, perhaps allowing a squeal of excitement to escape your lips now and then. Finish. Wipe crumbs from your lips. Sigh that you’ve just finished the most ultimate lunch box ever.

That about sums it the experience

First course was a chilled gazpacho soup in a little half cup container. Now Shannon Bennett is a veritable master when it comes to the tomato. He must have rubbed the tummy of the tomato fairy or something, cause dang - that man can extract their absolute soul. My first tomato experience was an amuse bouche at VDM a few years back - a shot glass of essence of tomato (chilled) , served with a tablet of basil ice. The first sip instantly invoked memories of my Nonna pulling plump ripe tomatoes from her sun drenched vegetable patch. I could taste every sugo she had ever made and every tomato salad. I’m not shitting you here, this amuse bouche was a fucking spiritual experience. I had a second one too, involving a confit’d tomato with a ligurian centre (but I won’t bore you with the verbose detail of that one). Suffice to say, this little half cup of gazpacho soup, even in the paper cup, captured the essence of all its parts on all levels. Delish.

The Cobb Salad fulfilled all my “food is better when you interact with it” fantasies. It comes in two parts - the coss lettuce, lardons, croutons, shredded and seasoned roast chicken, and slice of egg in one container, and the vinaigrette in the other. Pour the contents of the smaller container into the larger container, and voila - you’ve dressed your own salad. Now I gather the use of the specimen container is twofold - one to house the dressing, two for obtaining your own blood cholesterol sample after eating the contents of the ultimate lunch box :-).

The sandwich, although I’m not quite sure whether that term does it any justice, was a smoked salmon brioche. I kind of expected the brioche to be dry (as it is want to do if left hanging around a bit), but I think the liberal dousing of a creamy mayo type sauce kept it moist. The salmon was silkily luscious and exquisite, and the rocket lively and peppery. It was gooood.

The cheese course was a mature cheddar served on a sesame sable. I thought the use of silver backed breathable camembert papers was an interesting wrapping choice, but unfortunately it didn’t prevent the cheese sweating somewhat. Was it packed and wrapped a little too early? The sable on the other hand was quite interesting. It was heavy on the paprika, sesame and parmesan, and was flaky in a “I’ve just used a bucket load of butter to achieve this result” kind of way.

The pud was an extremely adorable cherry and almond cupcake. It was more friand-like than cupcake per se, but heck, I’m not going to argue with the man. You could call it the “rub it all over me and call me daddy” dessert and I won’t complain a bit :-). Anyway, smack bang in the middle of this almondy cakey goodness was a dirty big black sweet cherry.

See. I told you so.

Oh no….I think I need some serious help. I’m turning into John Lethlean!

I’ve been sitting on this entry for a while now. See, I dined at Rockpool on 15th December 2006. ‘Twas a lovely evening, one which I shall regale to you in detail a moment. Then Lethlean’s Rockpool review came out in The Age, and goddangit if I didn’t echo most of his sentiments, and order pretty much the same stuff he did. It was a somewhat unsettling moment ;-).

Anyway, Rockpool Bar & Grill offered quite an impressive experience. Having dined at Rockpool Sydney on a number of occasions (and well enjoyed it), I thought the Melbourne venture might pale somewhat in comparison. But RB&G stands on its own. It is bold, brassy and sassy, despite its overtly masculine air. The rat pack would fit rit in here.

The RB&G entrance is long, but you get excited as you saunter past an opening to the chefs station and the kitchen area; people in white whizzing around in a frenzy. Then a couple of peekaboo windows; one allowing a view of the fish/oyster shucking prep area, the other, a dry meat ageing room. I actually didn’t know whether to be turned on or off by the haunches of hanging beef (aged between 26 and 41 days). My carnivorous and herbivorous inclinations were in battle. But damn if I didn’t feel a guilty pleasure at the anticipation.

You arrive at the entrance to the cellar bar, where one can go for a more informal, yet no less fantastic, dining experience. Or if you’re in for the full RB&G experience, you head for the dining room.

The main feature of the area is that it skirts the large open plan kitchen - which allows you to view all manner of miracles and sins. Most impressive was the 2.5 metre wood fired grill with beaten copper canopy that captures most of the ironbark smoke (there is just a smidge left to arouse the senses). And also of note was the large plasma screen TV, giving Neil Perry a view of his Sydney operation and vice-versa at all times.

Now to my first criticism of the night - the lengthy welcome spiel. My god, it seriously went on for like 3-4 minutes. I sat there like a stunned mullet as our waitress regaled the philosophy of RB&G, sustainability of produce, preparation of said sustainable produce, the meat ageing process, the fish killing process and why Mr.Perry continues to visit Steven Segal’s hairdresser (ahem…I digress!) . Not only did we hear this verbosity orally, but a third of the menu is dedicated to it as well. I applaud your convictions and sentiments Mr.Perry - but please, there is a point where it just becomes a bit too much. And as I sat there listening to this poor bored lass go on - I just wondered, what the? Bloody hurry up and let me friggin order!

The menu (note the lovely bovine feature on the back) covers all tastes and preferences. For entree one can choose from a cold seafood bar, salads, “other things” and hot starters. Then there are the main plates, or beef from the wood fired grill. A choice of sides and salads can then be made to accompany the beef, as that is all you’re gonna get on the plate baby. Meat.

I decided upon the Four Live Scallops Ceviche for entree - and I am so very glad I did. Having experienced the Tastes of the Sea in Sydney (and been ecstatically impressed), I decided to venture sideways for another item from the cold seafood bar. The four incredibly sweet and melt in the mouth scallops (the best I’ve EVER had) were bathed in the most divine dressing. I couldn’t help but pick up the shell oyster style and swallow, flooding my mouth in a salty citrussy piquant rush. I shiver now just thinking about it. It was THAT good.

And it was at this point that I looked up into the open plan kitchen and damn near wet myself. The pony-tailed man himself, Neil Perry, was in da house and at the pass! Woo!

For mains, EG and I decided on the dry aged 36 month old grass fed beef, more specifically (if that wasn’t specific enough), 600g of rib eye on the bone, aged for 37 days, done medium rare and sliced by the chef. At $95 is seems like a fair whack, but this is a serve suitable for two people. And what a serve it was! Cooked to absolute perfection with a crust I’d give my right arm to be able to achieve, it had the delicious taste of smoke on the outside, whilst remaining true to its beefiness on the inside. To accompany, one is offered the sauce and condiment service; horseradish cream, bearnaise, mustards (all types), barbecue sauce or harissa. The horseradish cream wasn’t as punchy as I’d usually like it, but passable. The harissa on the other hand was just unbelievable. It paired so well with the smokiness, I was quite in heaven.

For sides, our table of four decided on the Mac and Cheese, wood fire grilled mushrooms, and long cooked green beans with herbs. The Mac and Cheese - well, this is a dish that under no circumstance should be missed. It is oh so bad for you (in an exuberance of butter, cream and lotsa cheese kind of way), but oh so good (in the well, I’m not going to have this every day kind of way). The huge wood fired field mushrooms were also comfort food-ish thanks to a good basting of butter and herbs. And the green beans with their dressing of dill were fingerlickin’ too.

For dessert I strayed from Mr.Lethlean and went the praline mille feuille. I was not quite as impressed with this offering though, as it bordered on the unimaginative. The taste was one dimensional (just praline), with no sauce or garnish to offer a contrast (something sharp/bitter would have done the trick). It was just a very nicely cut slab of mille feuille on its side on the plate. That’s it. Boring. I’m just kicking myself I didn’t go Lethleans tout for best dessert of the year, the Muscat Beaumes de Venise Custard.

All in all I was well impressed by what Mr.Perry has achieved. I honestly didn’t think a clone of Rockpool Sydney would do well down here in Melbourne. But the oozy masculine sexiness of RB&G does.

I’m seeking help for my Lethleanean inclinations, before I too start thinking a place like Shamiana is a good place to dine Other than that, thank you Mr.Perry for another wonderful dining experience, and for signing the menu.

Pros:
Venue
Cold Seafood Bar
Ironbark woodfired grill
Kickarse sourdough rye bread
Cityscape view
Funky themeatic stationary (business cards, menus etc.)

Cons:
Lengthy preamble from waitstaff and menu
Front of house could be improved - they just skipped a few beats
Praline mille feuille
Watching the chefs dunk down behind the pass to chow down, hoping not to be seen by the public

Yu-U is the kind of place that does so well in Melbourne. First, it’s hard to find. The signage next to the door is the size of a postage stamp. Secondly, it runs off a Melbourne laneway - which is oh so cool these days. And thirdly - as you heave open the heavy rusty metal door and descend the dark concrete stairway, you are enveloped by a dark moody basement, slick with stainless steel, dark wood, polished concrete, clever lighting and a delicious smoky haze created by the yakitori grill.

Prime seating revolves around said grill; comfortable blue velour chairs and a long low bench gives you direct interaction with the cooking, fanning and basting of the little skewers. I am salivating and I haven’t even read the menu yet.

There is a minimum charge of $30 per head at night, which is not too hard to do with the plethora of small plates available. A Chef’s recommended course can be had for $43 per person, but don’t ask the wait staff what is on the menu as they’re unlikely to know.

My first choice was the Buri Sashimi; thick slices of fresh kingfish sitting atop of a pile of blanched spinach. The kingfish was firm and fresh and offered a great mouthfeel, the pearlescence of the skin a real delight for the eyes too. I partnered this with Asazuke, a cold salad of pickled cabbage, carrot, cucumber and seaweed. A heavy sprinkle of togarashi really made this one pop.

I didn’t order this dish - but doesn’t it look divine? Mushidori was sake steamed tender chicken slices topped with a leek dressing and shaved cucumber. It was served cold on a bed of juicy tomato slices.

Next was an item off the grill, yaki onigiri. Considered somewhat of pub snack in Japan, yaki onigiri is a charcoal grilled rice triangle/ball, sweet and salty on the outside due to a baste of a sweet soy flavoured sauce. The rice toasts on the outer giving crunchy goodness, whilst the inside remains soft and glutinous.

My last hot dish was Nasu Hasamiage, deep fried eggplant with minced chicken. Basically it was an egg-dipped deep-fried eggplant sandwich, containing a layer of seasoned minced chicken. Garnished with grated white radish and a very light sauce, it was quite the dish. Delish.

The finale (and how can one not?) was a scoop each of maccha and goma ice cream; green tea and black sesame respectively. The black sesame was particularly good - not too sweet with honeyed halva overtones.

Service at Yu-U can be somewhat haphazard; attentive with the water jug to the extreme, yet lacking in menu knowledge and non-anticipatory re: ordering and asking for the bill. My other gripe was the mood destroying music, both in volume and style. I don’t quite know what the style was - it reminded me of twee 1960s elevator music. It was just so at odds with the vibe.

But I like it. It’s a great space, and the food is clean, simple, fresh and funky.

Shanghai Village is as cheap and cheerful as you’re gonna get in this town. Located in Melbourne’s Chinatown district behind a heritage facade, you will be quite taken with it’s interior; hot pink walls, red leather/chrome seating, Chinese lantern lighting and a quirkiness that just absolutely delights (well…it delights me anyway!).

For around $6 you can get a plate of “whatever on rice” or “whatever on noodles” or a dozen Peking dumplings, steamed or fried. The choices for each of the above are innumerable - you could eat every meal here for a month and never have the same dish twice. And the dumplings - traditional, pork, chicken, prawn, vegetable and every other combination therein available. There is also the option of purchasing a dozen frozen ($4.50) for devouring at home later.

Above is a plate of steamed vegetable dumplings. What was surprising was the lack of cabbage (the great extender), which I was very happy about. Filled with earthy shitake mushrooms (reconstituted), carrot, tofu, spinach/water convolvulus, and spring onions - they are a fresh mouthful of vegetable goodness wrapped in a tender pastry casing. Serve with vinegary soy for optimum effect.

Whilst on the dumpling theme, check out Project Dumpling for some dumpling goodness. The link might be fairly old, but amazingly enough, most of the info is still current.

Supper Inn is to Chinese food what the Waiters Restaurant is to Italian. Honest, hearty and super authentic in a very excellent kind of way. You don’t go to either place for a delicate dining experience. For starters, you probably have to line up and wait for a table (the queue for both normally runs out the door and down the stairs). The service can be lackadaisical or snappy at times, and you’ll feel the brunt of it when you’ve finished your meal and they want to move you out the door for the next table. Don’t be offended - others are just waiting every so unpatiently to come on in and eat And the decor - well hmm, let’s just say wood veneer is still very fashionable at both venues.

Once again though - it’s all about the food. And the other stuff just adds to the whole dining experience.

On this visit I decided to break my congee cherry at the recommendation of EG, especially as Supper Inn apparently does one of the better ones in Melbourne.

Congee is a type of rice porridge, traditionally eaten by many Asian cultures for breakfast or supper. The rice is cooked in water or broth until it breaks down to a gloopy porridge. A choice of protein can be added; meat, century egg, fish, chicken etc. And it is usually garnished with sliced green onions and sometimes fine slithers of ginger. You can season further to taste (as it can tend towards blandness) with a generous whack of white pepper, salt or soy.

On the side for your dipping pleasure, one can order “Chinese donuts”, or youtiao. This is long strip of deep fried dough that is chopped into bite size pieces to act as croutons to your congee. Under no circumstance can you have congee without them - they are superbly divine, especially when they soak up all that soupy goodness.

I do have somewhat of a penchant for trawling ethnic food stores for weird and wonderful ingredients and products. Today’s find was care of Green Mart at 297 Exhibition Street, Melbourne.

Taiyaki is traditionally a Japanese cake shaped like a sea-bream, filled with things such as adzuki red bean paste, custard or chocolate. In Korea, it is known as Bungeoppang, and it comes as the ice treat version I had today.

The casing is like a communion wafer - thin, crispy and somewhat holy. Inside, a highly manufactured vanilla ice confection (you know…the one that tastes really good), is generously smeared with a sweet strawberry-like red bean jam.

So in summary - it was funny to look at, yummy to eat, and on a 39 degree Celsius day, damn satisfying. And at $1.80, what more could you ask for?

EG and I decided to kick off our New Year festivities with a home cooked meal and a bottle of vintage Mumm. What better way to say farewell to what has been an absolutely amazing year.

We started off with a trip to the Vic Market for some supplies. Unfortunately we arrived rather late - so our initial choice of a whole baked fish had to be replaced with a couple of fillets of wild barramundi. We then hit the organic fruit/veg stall for some wonderful produce. A quick snack of a parsley and cheese borek and a doughnut satisfied the lunch rumbles, then on to the bread purveyor - oh no, all run out! Think think…a quick trip to Melbourne Central and a Bakers Delight Pane di Casa did the trick.

Now back to EGs place for some tag team cooking. EG was in charge of the fish. I was in charge of the salad.

The recipe for the fish was inspired by the Jamie Oliver technique of chucking everything into a foil bag and bunging it in the oven. This bakes and steams the meat, ensuring it remains tender and moist. But more importantly - the wonderful flavour stays locked in.

The recipe for the salad was inspired by what looked good at the market. Red Otway baby potatoes, green beans, avocado and lemons.

EG’s Baked Wild Barramundi with Lemon, Fennel & Herbs
700g Barramundi Fillets (2 x 350g ish)
1 Red Onion, sliced thinly
1 Bulb of Fennel, sliced thinly
1 Medium Lemon, sliced thinly
Juice of 2 Lemons
2-3 big handfuls Herbage of choice (in this case marjoram, parsley, basil, fennel tops, bay)
Good extra virgin olive oil
Sea salt flakes and cracked black pepper

Preheat oven to 220 degrees Celsius. Prepare foil bag by joining two pieces of foil on the long edge and folding over a 1cm hem twice. One side will be the base, the other side the top (when folded over). Place the foil bag on a baking tray for stability.

On the base foil place a trivet of sliced onions, fennel, half the lemon slices and half the herbs. Lay the fish on top of the vegetables/herbs, season with sea salt and cracked black pepper, and then lay the remaining lemon slices and herbs on top. Pour on the lemon juice and then drizzle generously with olive oil.

Place the top foil over the fish and seal all edges to make an airtight bag.

Cook for 25 minutes. Remove from oven and let settle for a few minutes before piercing the bag and allowing the steam to escape (be careful). Serve on a platter.

The accompanying salad
This is just a quick throw together salad of boiled organic red otway chats, blanched green beans and sliced avocado dressed in lemon juice, extra virgin olive oil, salt and cracked black pepper. Quantities are not crucial - just make enough veg to satisfy, and then perhaps a 2:1 lemon to oil dressing. Season well.

The verdict
Seriously, this fish dish absolutely rocked. The barra was meltingly tender and sweet, the fennel and onion had cooked down and infused with the herby fishy lemony juices. Soaking this up with a hunk of bread was totally satisfying. And the lemon dressing on the salad partnered superbly well with the fish. An absolute winner of a dish that will surely be made again and again. EG - you are a wonderful chef!

The Mumm - well that was just friggin amazing as well. You can’t beat those French bubbles.