Mixtape

Gingerboy. Go there. They have a big neon sign. It says, "Gingerboy".

In the early 16th century, the great Christian humanist Erasmus railed against printers, those anarcho-informationalists of his day, that worked to

“fill the world with pamphlets and books that are foolish, ignorant, malignant, libelous, mad, impious and subversive; and such is the flood that even things that might have done some good lose all their goodness"

I read those words and immediately thought of those who prattle and rant about food as though it was a religious experience while blogging about the most trivial of matters and expect a readership to be impressed by their delicate sensibilities and refined tastes.

Not that I'm talking about anyone I know. *blushes*.

Anyway, the last month has seen some mixed dining experiences, from the sublime to the, well, not sublime, and rather than spend 500 words per piece filling the world with words that were foolish, ignorant, malignant etc, I thought I'd cram a few into a single mix tape that you can play in the car or give to someone special as a taster of what "Eat our Way" is all about. Think of this as a touring melange of tastes and ideas.

Gills Diner

The night I went to Gills Diner I had my professional hat on, and was having dinner with a man considered to be a world authority on car parking. No, he doesn't park cars; he's studied the impact of car parking on cities - the financial, environmental and opportunity costs of car parking in our cities. Disclaimer - I was a guest of the extravagantly named 'Institute of Sensible Transport".

Our local professor on the left. Car parking professor not in shot.

Anyway, sensibility aside, Gills Diner is tucked away in one of Melbourne's hipster alleys and is appropriately hard to find. It's got a cool, ex-industrial feel and warm staff and the food is good bistro nosh. On a rainy Melbourne night I had pork belly with pan-fried apples on a bed of humorous little lentils and a couple of 3 Ravens. The food was simple but perfect for the evening, while the conversation was focussed on the complexity of car parking and urban form. Note to self: two professors per meal is probably my limit.

Thanh Thanh

Meh

If it wasn't already obvious, I'm a bit of a fan of the old pho and other noodle soups. So in the ever continuing quest for the perfect pho, I dropped in to Thanh Thanh on Victoria Street in Richmond. I'd love to say they were great, but they weren't.

The magic of pho is in the stock and the stock here wasn't up to much. It lacked depth, spice and most of all, magic. In summary, "meh".

Gingerboy

Gingerboy, like Gills Diner, is Cool, and although the alley it's tucked away in is larger and easier to find than that of Gills Diner, that just means Gingerboy focusses on being just a gem rather than a hidden gem.

Gingerboy does wonderful, up-market versions of SE Asian street food without the humidity and with a greater range of cocktails. Dishes come in a potentially confusing (but well explained) mix of small and medium dishes, all of which had a complexity and a depth that comes with a blend of high-note herbs and the basso profondo of belachlan.

Silken tofu - the (almost vegetarian) bee's knees

We started with Chinese cabbage and chicken dumplings, which had a beautiful, essential filling, although the wrappers were a little chewy. Small, salt and pepper spiced chicken ribs in a crisp, light batter were served with a blistering and wonderful sauce - the Kentucky chicken of the gods. The last of the small dishes was soft-shelled crab with a green papaya salad - wonderful, with a papery shell and a tart salad.

Two large dishes finished the meal - a wonderful and rich salad of wagyu beef and soba noodles and some gentle kim chi (at least by kim chi standards!) and some beautiful silken tofu with mushrooms and XO sauce. This was the surprising and wonderful dish in its balance and complexity; almost the dish that could convert me to vegetarianism (except for the shrimp paste in the sauce).

Soft-shelled crab and papaya salad. Let's do this again!

Gingerboy is the standout of this bunch - a small but perfectly formed restaurant with attentive staff and a intimate (yet busy) room and truly wonderful food. A keeper.

Pho Dzung

So last night was a lot of fun but I did wake up feeling a just a trifle worse for wear. Even though I lounged around the house for most of the morning, rest was not enough and to properly shake this morning-after malaise only pho would suffice. So off we trotted to Preston.

Pho Dzung is in the Preston end of High Street and is a cheap, unassuming Vietnamese restaurant with a healthy buzz and fast turnover. Like all the best pho shops, this one has a picture of a smiling cow and chicken in the window (which always reminds of me of this).

Pho with rare beef and beef brisket

Not that buzz matters all that much - it's really all about the soup, and their pho ba is wonderful and restorative. The broth is rich, warm and fragrant with cinnamon and star anise; both the braised brisket and the rare beef slices were perfect; the noodles were as they should be; and the herbs and bean shoots were perfect to spark up the soup with both scent and crunch.

As long as the basics are right, the strength of a good pho is in the broth, and the broth here is just what the doctor ordered, or would have if he'd had any sense. He doesn't, of course. But if he did....

Thy Thy 1

Despite rumours to the contrary, we have NOT been banned from restaurants in the northern parts of Melbourne; we just haven't been out much. That fabricated tissue of farragoes you may have heard about me losing my temper with a waiter because of a live lobster, the widow at the next table, dirty wine glasses and a rolled-up copy of Guns 'N' Ammo is almost certainly untrue. Nor do I have anything to apologise to Nicole Kidman for. My statement stands, and that's all I'm saying on the matter.

Now we've cleared up that little mess, we've decided to make a bit more of an effort and let other people cook. Today was a test run in order to limber up the blogging muscles, stretch the jaw tendons and give the taste buds a slight sanding and a freshen up. So where better than old favourite (and nowhere near High Street), Thy Thy 1 on Victoria Street in Richmond, in Melbourne's Vietnamese centre.

Reasons to love Victoria Street #7: Vegetables on the street

Thy Thy 1 is about as casual as you can get and although it's always busy, there's never any problem getting a table, although you might be kissing a stranger's elbow (no, that rumour's not true either). You ascend the pink staircase from the street to be greeted by laminex tables, gaudy painting and glowing paper lamps as colourful as a box of crayons after a mouthful of disco biscuits.

The magical staircase is all you can see from the street

Jars of chili, bottles of sauces and vinegars sit in a plastic peg bucket on each table. All very casual and very, very welcoming. Tea comes out and gay, chipper menus are distributed and orders are taken quickly. Food generally arrives within 10 minutes, today even faster.

Chili, sauces etc in a bucket

Although Spring rolls are an easy-cop-out cliche in many South East Asian restaurants, here they are beautiful, petit and come with a table salad to wrap them in. Lettuce, bean shoots and Vietnamese mint, and a nuoc mam cham dipping sauce. Crunchy, light and fragrant... Because we arrived late in the lunch session, we were the last to leave, and got to watch them being rolled at the next table.


We followed this up with fried egg noodles with seafood, which was pretty good, and a curry made with sliced barbecue pork and curry powder, cheered up with fresh herbs.


Neither were fantastic dishes, but they were good and very comforting. Thy Thy 1 is not fine dining, nor is it elegant, neuvo anything. Minimalist decor has been ignored for hallucinogenic colour and easy-to-clean surfaces. If it's a bit hip (and how the fuck would I know?), then it's because it's not trying to be. You get what you expect, as long as you were expecting cheap and cheerful food stripped of all pretension and stuck at the top of a magical staircase in Richmond. There's one or two decent bottle shops within a hundred metres or so, so you can get a bottle of wine at the last moment should you want.

Of course, you also get a walk along Victoria Street. Priceless.

Food we have et...

So in the absence of real postings (real in the sense of "what we started this blog for"...), we have been doing a bit of cooking at home, plenty of which has been captured through the magic of the modern technique know as "Photo-Graphy". Here are some modest samples. Those of you only vaguely familiar with the emerging art of "Photo-Graphy" may rest assured that, despite current thinking, it does not "steal your soul". However, it is widely understood by learned Gentlemen that it may disturb the luminiferous aether, so all caution is advised.

Grating tumeric for a paste, which would then be pounded with coriander roots, garlic, cumin, ginger. The poundation was then mixed with tomato, saffron threads, salt, pepper and white fish cubes (of gummy shark) were marinated, later to be very slowly cooked. Chick peas were added to warm through; then chopped coriander.

I vouchsafe, Sirs, that it was Good.


Later, chicken salad was prepared upon an Indochinese basis. Cabbage, carrot, poached chicken breast, handfuls of herbs (mint, coriander, basil), thinly sliced red onion marinated in rice vinegar, sugar and salt, lots of ground pepper, lime juice and fried shallots from a packet. Lots of fish sauce, chili, sugar and vinegar to dress...


Black mussels, always to be preferred, were from the fishmongers adjacent to Psarakos in Thornbury, but a hop, step and swagger from here. Alas, F refers to them only as "Psoriasis Brothers". We've had them often, but today (being a holiday), Alex and I stuffed them with pork and either a pounding of green herbs and pepper or a mix of red curry paste and other accouterments . Truth be told, the hard work mussels (green) were not nearly as good as the slap-dash, liaise fare (red) ones... All good, but a lot of work and, methinks, one to do once a decade or so.