Archive for July, 2010

gourmet pizza goodness

After numerous times trying to hit up Supermaxi with fellow food blogger wankster Alex from The MSG, we finally made it. We kept postponing due to forgetting, insomnia, brokearsedness, work – you name it, it happened. In case you’re not aware, The MSG is having a pizza battle and seeing as Supermaxi is sort of out my way, I asked Alex if I could tag along when he was planning to eat there.

Supermaxi interior

You can’t tell from the outside at all what lurks inside North Fitzroy relative newbie Supermaxi – its exterior is modest to say the least, verging on hidden, even. It is easy to get to as it’s located along the 112 tram route that heads to West Preston. Inside, it’s sleek, sterile and spacious (how’s that for alliteration!).

When I arrived, there were some complementary lupini beans for nibbling. Tasty but trickier buggers than edamame. Of course Alex ate them with more grace than I did and I believe they are enjoyed in Arab countries too.

To drink, I chose a beer from a local (Melbourne) brewery – the Hawthorn amber ale. Malty and very sessionable. Sorry the photo is so…flashy. I have since found out that the Hawthorn brewing premises are located in Mildura, near the NSW-Vic state border. Not so local after all…?

Hawthorn amber ale

Alex tried a Kooinda pale ale, also a (physically) Melbourne-based brewery. I think he probably would have enjoyed the amber ale more as the Kooinda can be bitter for those who don’t generally drink beer.

Time for pizza choices. I went with the special offered on the evening which had smoked mozzarella, basil and prosciutto on a tomato base. Cheese, cured meat and a beer. My holy trinity of vices. You could actually taste that the cheese was smoked but the meat detracted from that a little. A nice thin base but a little soggy towards the middle. I think I might have liked a little more basil and less prosciutto so that the smoked cheese flavour would linger more. Don’t get me wrong – it was delicious and I finished it.

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Alex chose the Sicilian – a distinctly different pizza from mine – which had tuna, onion, capers, basil, parsley, mozzarella, lemon and chilli and is not tomato-based. I’m pretty opposed to fish on a pizza but I have to concur with Alex – he got the superior pizza. Really bloody good. Wouldn’t mind a tad more chilli on it. Definitely give this pizza a go even if it sounds a bit odd. I’m very glad I got to try it as it’s not something I would have chosen.

The Sicilian - (bianca) tuna, onion, capers, basil, parsley, mozzarella, lemon, chilli

Alex was fancying dessert and even took pity on my Dickensian status to make sure I got some too which was very kind. I selected the chocolate pannacotta with raspberry sauce. I would have preferred the pannacotta to be a tad creamier, but it was otherwise quite good and chocolate always goes well with tart fruit sauces.

chocolate pannacotta with raspberry sauce

Alex went for the fried custard with honey and vanilla ice cream – the texture of the fried custard was trippy! It was like baked cheesecake with a crunchy crust.

fried custard with honey served with vanilla ice cream

Definitely a solid gourmet pizza experience to be had here but there are certain…idiosyncrasies in the service. Initially when one of us waved over a waitress, she told us that she could not take our order because we were not sitting in her section. Um, what? Oooookay. If you want to stick to that ‘rule’ and make your establishment look difficult, then fine: just remember that not all diners are going to be so forgiving. Our main waitress who was allocated to service our area did an excellent job and chatted a little about the local beers on offer, making a point of mentioning that Kooinda was a Melbourne-based brewery. Is beer’s profile as a drink to have alongside dining rising? One can hope…

If you want to see how Alex has got on with the MSG’s epic pizza battle (seriously, these food blogger wanksters have it hard! They eat and eat and eat and eat just so they can tell you where all the cool places are! *wink*) here’s the link to heat one.

Supermaxi on Urbanspoon

one man’s coffee odyssey -or- what is this shit?

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Living in Melbourne, – the coffee and café capital of Australia -  we Melburnians get to feel superior to the rest of Australia. We have great coffee and a great culture to go along with it. Throw in tonnes (or tons for you Yanks) of great cafés and we’re in coffee Nirvana, right?

Oh, but what about the is-this-coffee-or-reconstituted-ash you get from that local cafe you avoid, or the is-there-coffee-in-my-milk ‘drinks’ you can pick up from Starjeans or Glory Bucks? Oh, shit, I neglected to mention those while I was heaping bile on the uncultured lot from Sydney. Well then, I guess if I’m going to participate in the culinary circle jerk that is food blogging, I better acknowledge Melbourne’s ‘dark side’. Or, to put it into movie parlance: ‘with a smug sense of superiority comes great responsibility’.

The other reason I thought I’d write about the good and the bad is because of personal experience – I have had a phenomenal amount of questionable coffee. Mostly on my journey to work in the morning. You know what it’s like: you roll out of bed and stumble out the door a walking zombie. You’re running late – again – and you don’t have time to go to the good coffee place, so you settle for that place.

My route to work takes me past a number of those places, dispensers of caffeinated calamities: Baguette and Coffee HQ.

While I’ve never had coffee from Coffee HQ – far too long a wait for average coffee, you see – others I know have. It also gets an emphatic thumbs down at Decaf Sucks. Case closed on that one.

Next up is Baguette, which I have been caffeinated at. The staff are always friendly, which always perks me up until I taste the coffee – which would swing wildly between too bitter and too milky. For the inconsistency the (roughly) $3.50 you pay for a small coffee is too much.

Between those two coffee failures in Flinders Street Station I was a dejected man; there are more cafés on Flinders Street proper and up Swanston Street, but both options seemed to be too long a detour from my route to work down St Kilda Road.

So with these failures I gave up trying to find a pre-work ‘hit’. This was until I found myself en face de (that’s French for ‘in front of’ and not French for  ’petit miam‘ as you’re probably thinking) Centro coffee. I tasted the coffee. It was A-MAZIE-ING: the angels sang, the cherubs…err…chortled and I exhaled, knowing I’d found my coffee place.

Flash forward to the next day and I could again be found out the front of Centro, ready to repeat yesterday’s experience.
I was greeted (?) by a churlish staff member, parted with with my $4 (!) and received a foul tasting Bundle of Bleh (BoB). I had been mislead by one decent coffee, only to find it could not be repeated.

Apparently if I wanted bathe in coffee comfort I’d have to travel out at lunch to either St Ali, or Dead Man Espresso (both of which are excellent).

coffee maestros

I was destitute, until one day I decided to be SUPER spontaneous and leave Flinders St Station via the Degraves subway – you know, mix things up, keep things interesting. I zombie shuffled my way through the station barriers with the other sheeple, preparing to make my assent up the steps out of the subway until I saw some 5 Senses coffee out of the corner of my eye sitting in the window of the Cup of Truth. Warm. Copies of the painfully trendy Broadsheet Melbourne in a basket out the front. Warmer. Swarms of people waiting for coffee. Hot.

All the boxes were ticked; I was buying a coffee. Would my heart be torn asunder like so much crepe paper?

*cue inappropriately placed ad break*

No. It was a spectacular coffee! Over the next week or so I kept coming back; I didn’t want to be the guy that falls head-over-heels with a coffee place that I’ve just met. Let me tell you it wasn’t lust, it was love.

The other thing to love about Cup of Truth is the banter between the owners, Courtney and Verity – always friendly and often irreverent - it’s a great way to start the day. Despite the alluded-to trendiness of the blend and street press, this is no hipster-thronged venue; there are no too-tight jean-wearing hipsters delicately track standing their vintage ‘fixies’ while their personal baristas deliver the single origin pour-over in-situ. Thank Gawd. While I like going to the ‘cool’ coffee places with the great coffee on the weekends, I want something with a little less pretence on my way to work. Cup of Truth is it.

**Update** As mentioned by Ryan in the comments, I omitted the reason for the name ‘Cup of Truth’. To be honest, it hadn’t actually clicked until mentioned; on the counter at Cup of Truth sits a cup full of change, where customers are trusted to deposit their money, and fish out correct change – an honesty system, or indeed, a Cup of Truth ;)

Cup of Truth on Urbanspoon

chow down at Chowhound

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Yeah, I know, not a very original post title, is it?

One evening before a gig at the Northcote Social Club, the plan was to grab a bite to eat in the area. As usual, Urbanspoon provided many options. Pizza Meine Liebe came up. We went in, the lovely waitress said they were fully booked out but told us to go next door to Joe’s Shoe Store as they would let us eat there even though it’s a bar. We took the lovely lass’ advice and were warmly greeted upon entering Joe’s Shoe Store which was bursting at the seams. No seats meant no food.

High Street in Northcote has a myriad of dining options and walking towards the NSC, we happened upon Chowhound which looked suspiciously empty and trendy. What a fortuitous find it turned out to be.

It was quite difficult to choose what to have – there were so many yummy things on the menu. I was tempted by the beef bourguignon special, but thought it might be too filling, so decided to have a meat-free dinner.

I convinced Tristan to share a starter of soft shell crab with wasabi mayonnaise for dipping. The batter was feather-light and there’s easily enough for two people. If you’re not too hungry, I’d say it’d be adequate as a small meal. I want to go back just to have this again!

soft

After agonising over mains, I went for the flat rice noodles topped with vegetables, woodear fungi, mushrooms and presented with massive cubes of tofu. So much vegetarian goodness happening in this dish with the textures and tastes. As you can see, there’s dried shallots, beanshoots and baby corn. The menu did mention that there were water chestnuts and my only criticism was that there were only two of them in the entire dish – would have loved more. A minor quibble, however. I apologised profusely for not being able to finish my rice noodles and the affable waiter told me not to worry – it’s a big dish.

vegie

Tristan went with comfort food incarnate – macaroni cheese with bacon, caramelised onions and a crispy topping. Grown-up comfort food! Makes me warm and toasty just thinking about it.

macaroni

Both of us forwent our beloved beer that night and I had a glass of pinor noir and Tris had Kanga shiraz. Alas, the wine list was taken away too quickly for me to covertly snap a photo of it, so I can’t tell you exactly what I had – but I promise I’m paying more attention to what wines I drink.

By the time we left, fortified for some serious gig enjoyment, the place was full. It’s not hard to see why – it’s a beautiful space and the menu is chock-full of slightly jazzed up standards, borrowing liberally from different culinary traditions. The fact that I had so much trouble choosing what to eat means I’m planning a repeat visit.

Chowhound

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