Category Archives: eatie-foodies dining out

popping my izakaya…sakurambo: that’s Japanese for ‘bar’ and ‘cherry’ respectively

 sake and sushi & sashimi

You know what it’s like: it’s a special occasion and you want to impress someone by taking them out to a swanky place. I had foolishly tried to go to Ichi Ni Izakaya on the St Kilda Esplanade one very rainy day in Melbourne, only to be turned away. Myself and dining companion had to be in the area for a gig across the road at the Palais, and so I took it upon myself to treat dining companion to some Japanese bar nibblies beforehand as it was his birthday, and this time, I booked.

After an arduous tram commute across Melbourne, I arrived late and found my partner pleasantly sozzled. In my absence, he had ordered edamame (steamed salted baby soy beans). He also told me about how after asking whether yukke was available, he experienced disgust as well as ignorance from the waitress asked. This quite shocked me.

To forget this shaky start, we ordered the very expensive Kinsachi Nagoya Akamiso. Delicious malty goodness this may be, but not sure it’s worth $16.50 a bottle. I hadn’t tried it before and wasn’t sure what its availability was so suggested we have it.

 kinsachi nagoya akamiso

Enough whining from me, you want to see the dishes chosen, don’t you? Bring on kinpiri (sauteed, simmered burdock root). Imagine the texture of a seaweed salad, but with a sweeter taste.

kinpiri

I know it’s freaking everywhere, but the pork belly was calling. I’m used to seeing it in nice, thick pieces with velvety melt-in-your-mouth fat. At Ichi Ni, it is sliced thinly and looks like…bacon!

pork belly

The yakitori set sounded pretty cool and featured an array of both vegetable and meat items. The tori (chicken) is a bog-standard item, the tsukune (chicken meatball) were okay, The tebasake (grilled chicken wing) might be a Nagoya specialty, but on a skewer I found it frustratingly difficult to eat – it’s really hard to get the meat off the bones. Shittake mushrooms were wonderfully marinated and I could easily have several of those on skewers.

 yakitori set

A trio of kaki might have to cleanse us of our meat-eating guilt. Oysters are always moreish.

kaki (oysters)

For mains, a sushi and sashimi mixed platter was shared. I asked the waiter if he could recommend a sake to go with it, and that I wanted a cold, dry one. I wasn’t impressed at all with his inability to assist me. After much dithering, he handed me the menu again and told me to choose one myself. Surely there was at least one member of staff who was intimate with the large sake selection on offer?

 sushi & sashimi

Still, I wasn’t leaving without dessert. Two were ordered – the chocolate harumaki, with ice cream and a honey almond sauce, and the quartet of ice cream scoops with unorthodox flavours – edamame, balsamic vinegar, cheese cake and pumpkin. The balsamic vinegar one was really strange, but a very cool concept.

 chocolate spring-rolls

ice cream tasting platter

While I had no trouble getting the bill, paying was another matter altogether. The glacial front of house seemed very preoccupied in sorting out a party whose booking they could not find and didn’t seem interested in assisting me at all. By this stage, I’d pretty much lost my patience. More disconcerting for them, it would have been very easy to walk out without settling the account.

Ichi Ni might be very stylish and possess enough demand that you can’t just walk in and expect to be fed, not to mention only being able to dine for two hour sittings, but I do not find this attractive enough to ever warrant revisiting. They can’t get simple things like good, attentive service right, and the morsels on offer are not astonishing. Perhaps the establishment feels its attitude is part of their charm? My opinion aside, the birthday celebrant loved it.

It is indeed a good thing that Melbourne has plenty of other izakaya to check out as I don’t intend to return here.

Ichi Ni Izakaya on Urbanspoon

beautiful dining space, lacklustre dining experience

My mother celebrates Easter, but I do not, being a heathen much to the chagrin, oddly enough of my non-practising Hindu father (no, I don’t get it either). Mum asked if she might have dinner with me and my partner, and wanting to keep the peace whilst my father is abroad for the funeral of his sister, I of course agreed.

Mum normally likes to keep her venturing local, unless it’s for a special occasion. Thinking her preferred local eatery was closed for the religious holiday, I booked for us to eat at Wesley Anne in Northcote.

Wesley Anne, dining area

See the delightfully romantic booths in the dining area in my admittedly appalling photo? We were not seated in them. Despite it being empty, we were put on a table so that all pedestrian traffic could squeeze past our table to get at the loo or outdoors. I’ve seen it remarked on Foursquare (did I just cite Foursquare?! Yes, I’m afraid I did) that the staff seem either vacant, or just plain distracted by goodness knows what. As we waited for our entrée, we were given a small plate of bread rolls, with olive oil and balsamic. Um, is one bread plate each too much to ask, guys?

 bread rolls with olive oil and balsamic vinegar

Mum and partner weren’t very hungry, so I suggested that we share the mussels in white wine amongst the three of us. Too bad it wasn’t fish or we’d have that Jesus thing down-pat (joke). Oh gosh, the mussels were very good. Partner reminded us all to save our bread to mop up the remnants of the sauce. It isn’t classy to do it, I’m sure, but I’d do it again.

 mussels with white wine

I suspect by how quiet Mum and partner were that I might have chosen the best main out of the lot – the French creamy chicken and bacon pie with mash and peas. More hearty, rustic food. The mash was pretty ordinary and quite dry (seriously, I’ve better mash made by non-foodies), so I left it begrudgingly despite my mash-love but put my peas in to get the leftover pie juice. That sounds a bit wrong but it wasn’t thick enough to call sauce as such. I was tucking into my pie with such gusto that I completely forgot to try what I assume was tomato sauce, as pictured below.

 chicken and bacon pie

Mum had the Wesley Anne’s take on chicken Maryland, which supposedly was Mexican (she said it tasted very Indian-inspired), and supposedly on pilaf. I’m a bit stumped as to why they drowned the so-called pilaf in sauce (yes, this time it’s sauce!) as that sort of ruins the fluffiness of pilaf. Mum didn’t utter a compliment once about the dish, which made me feel a little guilty about dragging her out all this way for unimpressive food. She did also note at one stage that a couple had come in and summarily inspected the menu and dashed off without ordering anything. Not a good sign. With a bit of pressing a few days later, she admitted she didn’t like her dish at all.

 chicken maryland

My partner had the pork salad, which sadly was very lacklustre. The amalgam of flavours from different cuisines suggested it didn’t quite know what it was, or what it wanted to achieve.

 pork salad

I am ashamed to say that the entire time here, I did not once imbibe an alcoholic beverage. Wine-lovers will appreciate the variety of the list, but I was in the mood for a decent beer and nothing took my fancy. Its atmosphere is a bit confusing: while on one hand it seems very plush and sophisticated, the service seems to indicate the contrary. It is standard practice at many pubs to help yourself to a menu and order at the counter, but that doesn’t mean that you have to forsake good customer service. There are dozens of other bars and restaurants on that strip of High St (some of my notables include the Northcote Social Club, and Kelvin). Having said all of that, because its location is 15-20 minutes out of the city, and it’s also a bike-ridable distance for me, I’d go again for a barhop especially since learning from Beer Bar Band that they had Mountain Goat Steam Ale on tap (I’m so kicking myself for not realising when I was there, sigh).

Note: photographs reproduced with kind permission of this kind fellow.

Wesley Anne on Urbanspoon

thank you for the good meals

My first more-than-one-shift-a-week job was at a Japanese restaurant in the city. It was a ‘character building’ experience in that my hourly rate was never over ten dollars an hour even once I turned twenty-one. Aside from the appalling pay and unofficial translation and English-teaching duties, it wasn’t too bad as all employees were fed, both lunch and dinner. Over countless shared meals with my colleagues, I learnt a lot about Japanese culture, as well as cuisine. For a start, as someone of (varied) Asiatic background, I was horrified to learn that my boss defined me as a typical Westerner. Fair enough, I’ve lived in the UK and Australia most of my life (I did spend one year in the Philippines when I was four).

I set about to rectify this immediately (embarrassingly, I’m still doing so…) and we discussed the meaning of the word ‘itadakimasu’, a greeting used at the beginning of a main meal. It literally translates as ‘thank you for the good meal’. Much to my colleague Yoshi’s frustration, I asked “Do we still have to say that even if the food’s crap?”. At first he looked shocked then realised, I was taking the piss.

I am a horrible tease.

It was birthday week and I was thrilled when the parents decided they wanted to take me out to dinner on my actual birthday – at first I was supposed to go to early music rehearsal but skived it. It seemed improbable we’d get a booking at Otsumami but they managed to squeeze us in. I’ve been to this fabulous restaurant a few times before but was nervous to go with my parents as they can be fussy.

It didn’t used to be so readily available, but one of my favourite starters is edamame – steamed, slighly salted baby soy beans. I’d like to claim that edamame is actually seasoned with crack, but this might get me into legal trouble. It is, of late, a current culinary addiction of mine. Best shared with a drinking buddy as sakana or otsumami (Japanese small dishes) often are.

edamame

Unlike the traditional à la carte menu, the dishes at Otsumami are divided by size – small, medium and large. Peko Peko in Collingwood also uses this system. The smaller dishes correspond roughly as entrées.

They sounded pretty ordinary to me, but Mum chose salmon harumaki from the small foods section. She was going to be the most critical of our dining troupe. but really seemed to enjoy these.

salmon harumaki

Dad chose the seared scallop sushi, which I’ve had before. They were so unbelievably succulent and cooked perfectly.

seared scallop sushi

On this occasion, I chose the special offered – tuna sashimi marinated with soy, sesame and a pistachio dressing, and finished with coriander. Pistachio is not something I would have thought would work with raw fish or the Japanese palate, but I was pleasantly surprised. The soft crunch of the crushed pistachio complemented the slivers of raw tuna.

tuna sashimi, entree special

Other standard items on the small foods menu previously enjoyed include oysters with daikon (I tried to order but sadly they were out), marinated green bean salad (which even those who aren’t fond of vegetables will love), and the sumisoe (the pronunciation is su-mi-so-eh, in case you’re wondering). My tummy hates avocado (rather against the wishes of my tongue) but I figured sampling this sweet miso marinated raw salmon dish was worth any gastric pain caused. I would have liked the avocado a tad firmer and in smaller cubes. This is one of the most expensive dishes in its group. Damn you delicious raw fish!

sumisoe

The sumisoe, I would argue is an essential selection at Otsumami. In the large dish group, the kinokodon is my nomination – several types of mushrooms served in a butter sauce. Again, butter with the woodier, more pungent Asian mushrooms doesn’t sound like an ideal pairing, but it is heavenly. This was the choice of main for my partner, a reformed mushroom-phobe. Along with your standard mushroom, there is enoki and sliced shittake all of which differ in flavour so much.

kinokodon

Dad had the deconstructed take on a niku don. I was worried the serving might not be enough, and that it would be too muted a choice, but he loved it.

niku don

Mum chose the very safe but satisfying lemongrass yakitori don. On account of its size, she wasn’t able to finish it. Like her chosen entrée, it too was beautiful in presentation. I’m glad she chose dishes I would have otherwise ignored – think I might have to try them myself one day.

lemongrass yakitori don

All of the selections above were from the large dish group, except mine which was a ‘medium’ one – the sake carpaccio (sake being Japanese for salmon here, not the Japanese rice wine). It’s a little difficult to see it with its deep-fried ocha soba hat, but you can view it in better detail on Flickr.

sake carpaccio, detail

On a previous occasion, I had the very filling tsuke sashimi don – too much rice for my liking, and not vinegary enough. I much prefer the CBD-located Meshiya’s sashimi (specifically tekka) don.

In the way of desserts there isn’t anything too ground-breaking – Mum and I both had crème brûlée though with different flavoured ice creams: I had green tea, she had black sesame.

The atmosphere and service are always consistently good, and the food really enjoyable and moderately priced. It’s also outside the city, and not ridiculously far from me. It gets tiring having to be in the city for all the good eats! I was especially grateful on this night that they managed to fit us in and the parents said they would dine there again. Definitely book ahead, as it’s quite small and popular.

Otsumami on Urbanspoon