I admit, I was a bad friend. I dragged C & L out to a part of their fair city that they did not get out to much. I was intent on dining and drinking at the Local Taphouse in Darlinghurst. We were all running late, and an executive decision was made to pop into a place before we reached the Taphouse. Thanks to the fantabulous suggestion of C, we ended up at Betty’s Soup Kitchen.
I love that Betty’s looks so homely and welcoming – instantly. I didn’t have to worry about whether or not I was underdressed and instantly felt at home. The menu is not haute fare, but this was a plus. I remarked that a lot of the food on the menu reminded me of my childhood in England. The waiters are quite kooky, but lovely. When we ordered our food, we were given some bread and butter to share. Doesn’t it look rustic?
C chose the vegie shepherd’s pie, I the meat one, L had spag bol, and T was the only one who had the fabled soup. Here’s a photo of my shepherd’s pie. I’m sorry the photos are so dark. Unusually, instead of the piped-on baked mash, there are ice cream scoops!
T had the beef goulash soup, which he gobbled up very, very quickly. It’s a bit of a mess because our waiter was awesome and carried three large plates simultaneously.
Three of us were persuaded to have dessert, giggle. C & T had bread and butter pudding, and I had plum and peach crumble. T said he could easily have another serve of the pudding – he seemed to very much enjoy it.
I hate custard and was sceptical about peaches and plums together…but it was delicious. To the last drop of custard!
Please open a branch of this place in Melbourne! Eternal thanks to C for leading us all to this cozy little eatery.
While in Sydney, it was suggested we check out Una’s, in Darlinghurst. I gathered about my posse and a few of us went there for lunch. The cuisine looks very German-inspired. Because I haven’t eaten very much of this type of cuisine at all, I can’t judge whether or not it’s authentic. I was eager to try some beers I’d never had before upon arrival. I had the Radeberger pilsner, while the Bit O’ Meat had an Erdinger Weissbrau. Mine was perfect for quenching my thirst after traipsing to the restaurant in the typical Sydney heat and humidity.
My friend L had been here before and suggested we all share the baked camembert as an entree. I certainly wasn’t going to argue!
A fellow Melburnian on Twitter, @artywah, had spoken highly of the Jaeger chicken schnitzel, so I convinced Bit O’ Meat to share that with me. I was pretty excited about it coming with rosti. L also had it (and they kindly let her take home the leftovers, hee hee), and our other dining companion E had steak. He mentioned he felt the steak a little expensive for the serve. I would like to have seen salad on my plate – perhaps I’ve been spoilt by having too many generous parmas down Melbourne way.
Personally, I prefer non-crumbed parmas and the like, but the sauce on this schnitzel was really good. Wish it had more mushrooms as they soak up the sauce wonderfully. I’m really glad I shared my main as it’s quite a filling meal. The wait staff took a bit of issue with us sharing one of the schnitzels, being of the opinion it most definitely wouldn’t be enough for either of us. I say they were wrong!
Glad to have visited, but I probably wouldn’t go back. It’s a little expensive for food that is just okay.
You’ll scoff when I tell you this but I was never a fan of steak. On a menu and a chalkboard filled with exotic sounding dishes like ricotta cannelloni, seafood curry and eggplant parmagiana, the humble piece of cooked red meat seems… well, boring.
But last year, that all changed.
On a cold, dreary winter’s evening, I popped my steak-cherry one serendipitous trip to Russell Street’s European Bier Café. It was a finely looking slab of grain-fed scotch fillet that did it. Served with a tarragon-spiked hollandaise sauce, on a bed of mash and a side of Asian greens, it was an orgasmic experience. And then for my birthday last year, a religious experience at Footscray’s The Station Hotel cemented the love affair. Over half a dozen varieties of cuts of meats, a half a dozen ways fed, cooked and garnished, the arduous decision was made finally on a 450-day grain-fed wagyu rostbiff. Heaven.
So, it was with some gustatory delight when friends Scott, Ingmar, Andrew and I headed to Williamstown for a midweek dinner at a local pub.
I’m not too familiar with the history of the Morning Star Hotel though I’ve been once before. Sure, it looks to have seen its fair share of patrons and diners over the years, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing. It has a reputation for serving good grub and has been recommended by friends.
The vintage feel of the Star’s front bar gives the local that laid back ambiance; perfect for easy, cruisey drinking sessions on a warm summer’s evening. This same vibe is carried through to its dining room, in spite of the dichotomic white linen table cloths and fine silver cutleries. Dusty old wine bottles line the tops of the walls and curious sepia photography hang from the picture railings. The wait staff – once (in)famous for being cheeky, sometimes bordering on obnoxious – are friendly, polite and unobtrusive.
The menu at the Star carries regular pub grub – steak, fish and chips, pasta, etc – with gourmet-leanings peppered throughout. Although rather suspiciously, the humble parmagiana is absent from the menu. But this might have been more to do with my zealousness to see their steak offerings rather than a dining oversight.
So, about the steak. Two different choices are offered on the menu: a 350 gram T-bone and a 250 gram rib eye, each sub $30. I chose the rib eye, done medium with pepper sauce, while Ingmar chose the same but with mushroom. Andrew, meanwhile, decided on the T-bone, done medium rare, served with mushroom sauce. And Scott, well, he chose the fish.
All meals came served on a bed of “pub cut” chips and a small side of salad with a creamy brown vinaigrette sauce. Mine was drenched with a handful of peppercorns liberally added. The steak was soft and cooked to my liking, while Andrew commented that his was more medium than rare. I noticed that Ingmar had trimmed a good portion of fat from his, which I wouldn’t find a problem but others conscious of such things might. Overall, the food was nice, though perhaps not as good as it used to be. Certainly, the steak didn’t bring about that same kind of post-nom titillation as it did at previous venues.
Strangely, the place seemed quiet on the weeknight we visited, in spite of the evening being a nice, summery one. It’s probably a different story during the weekends. Still, the question has to be asked in an almost empty dining room… where the bloody hell are the locals?
Morning Star Hotel is located at 3 Electra Street, Williamstown. Ph (03) 9397 6082.
