Archives for April 2013

121 Asian King – What Happened to Asakusa?

April 26, 2013 by Andrew Christie Leave a Comment

Was it cultural sensitivity with regards to Anzac Day or just sensitivity to holiday penalty rates that caused the Japanese restaurant Asakusa to be closed? Whatever the reason, our intended target for the night’s outing with daughters and granddaughter in tow, was blacked out and closed when Strop and I arrived. No worries, we’ll just go to the next place. So we stepped next door to number 121 and sat down at a newly re-modelled, re-managed, and absolutely empty Asian King, where we were soon joined by Stropette, Pancetta, and The Stropolina.

This place will do... — This place will do…

We have our choice of tables, and a high chair for the Pancetta is found, followed soon after by a large plate of prawn crackers. Pancetta thinks these are a very good idea and proceeds to eat some and spread the others around the restaurant. She is also fairly taken with the chopsticks and proceeds to conduct the music in her head, give a presentation, and make a few notes on the white paper table covering. The wait staff think she is very cute, so they’re definitely getting a tip.

The menu is large and colourful, and takes a bit of time to get our head around. Asian King is basically a Chinese restaurant and it’s menu has a number of overlaps with last weeks subject the Green Gourmet. We decide to exploit this duplication and order some of the same dishes but with actual dead animals in them this time. Just to see. So the order includes Peking Duck Pancakes, Sang Choy Bow, and Shandong Chicken for comparison. To this we add Szechuan Style Shredded Pork with Golden Buns, Peking Style Shredded Beef, Seasonal Stir Fried vegetables, and Shanghai Steamed Mini Pork Buns for Pancetta. With the ordering done we get down to drinking our Madfish Classic White wine and entertaining the youngster. The only other customers in the restaurant are two single Asian men – presumably students – one of whom impresses with both his dexterity and his manners by eating his prawn crackers with his chopsticks. I hope Pancetta took note. There are a couple of take away orders while we are there, both walk-ins and on-line orders, but mostly the place is empty. Meanwhile Pancetta has been offered some fruit which she proceeds to convert into a grapey slip-and-slide beneath her chair. Distraction is needed so The Stropolina takes Pancetta for a walk on the footpath. This is a new trick, actual bipedal walking, and she is keen to engage anyone and everyone on the strip in conversation on the thrills and spills involved. Pancetta returns from her walk just in time for the entrees, with lots of giggling at the idea that we are still there in the restaurant, right where she left us.

I’m just going to say this once, ok, meat is better than gluten – or any other analogue for that matter. There are large chunks of roasty toasty duck in the pancakes and yummy pork in the Sang Choy Bow. Then it’s on to the Shandong Chicken which is a revelation and the winning dish for the night. The Szechuan style pork is disappointing but the Peking style beef is yummy despite being very sweet. Kind of like beefy lollies.

We had a great time at Asian King and didn’t feel as if our antics were inconveniencing anyone else, except for the two Asian guys – and they didn’t seem to notice. It would be worth getting to know the menu better, because I suspect there are a few gems hidden away there. I would certainly go back for some more Shandong Chicken. But unfortunately we can’t, that is the cross we bear, always eating somewhere new. We have to cross the road to Cheeky Czech next, a place I have been looking forward to for a while – both because of it’s name and because it’s not Asian – I really feel like a change of cuisine. In the interest of completeness – which is the only thing Painting the Bridge has going for it after all – we will go back to Asakusa sometime when they can be bothered to be open.

115 – Green Gourmet – The Not_Food Analogy

April 21, 2013 by Andrew Christie 4 Comments

We approach with some trepidation, this is not a place we would venture into if it wasn’t for the quest. It has an attitude to food that is basically alien to Strop and I. Generally we’ll eat anything as long as it tastes good and isn’t moving. The Green Gourmet on the other hand has lots of rules about what can and can’t be eaten. But they don’t mind pretending to eat things they’re not allowed to. Like meat.

I really don’t understand the whole meat analogue aspect of vegetarian cuisine. I mean, if you don’t want to eat meat, why eat pretend meat? Aren’t there enough vegetable out there? Like a lot of mysteries it arises out of tradition rather than logic. According to the wiki, Buddhist vegetarian cuisine grew out of what was cooked in monasteries. The monasteries also provided room and board for travellers and visiting family, and in order to make them feel more at home, they served familiar meals. Except that the meat was substituted for something else, usually some form of gluten. Gluten doesn’t have much flavour of its own, but the texture and appearance can be manipulated if you know what you are doing and over time the gluten-based meat analogues became very sophisticated, right down to reproducing the follicles on the skin of roast chicken. Apart from anything else you have to admire the skill and dedication that this represents. And they don’t think it’s weird. That’s the really weird thing.

We have brought along the Stropolina and her vego-gangsta mate MLE to add a bit of serious vegetarian insight to the whole experience. MLE has similar feelings to ourselves about the faux-food. Apart from any intellectual misgivings she may have, she finds it weird to eat because the textures and tastes set off her finely-tuned meat radar. An evening full of gluten masquerading as meat is likely to overload her meat defences and leave her vulnerable to a sneak attack by a side of bacon.

MLE and the Stropolina get stuck into the coconut water

Green Gourmet is a big place and always seems to be busy, full of all the vegetarians and buddhists hiding out in Newtown. Unfortunately the list of things that Green Gourmet doesn’t serve aligns fairly closely with my own list of favourite foods: meat alcohol, eggs, dairy, onion and garlic. I find this ideological approach to eating both scary and fascinating. We were ready for no meat, egg or dairy – we even googled vegan, just to be sure – but the alcohol thing was a bit of a surprise, – “Really,” said Strop. “Are you sure? Cause I think I’m going to need a drink.” – and the onion and garlic thing – they cause loathsome odours and lustful impulses apparently – bought on more head scratching. Oh well, what can we eat then?

Quite a lot really, but the first decision is whether we are dining a la carte or a la buffet – where you load up your plate and pay by the weight. We opt for ordering from the menu and being waited on, but I do find myself drawn to the idea of paying for food by weight.

In lieu of alcohol we opt for jasmine tea and fresh coconut water. The menu covers a lot of territory with sections devoted to Raw & Salad, Steamed Yum Cha & Dim Sim, Crispy Pan Fried, Mushrooms, Tofu and Tofu Pillows, and Claypots, as well as Better_Than_Meat.

We decide early on to go the whole hog and embrace gluten in all its forms, starting with Crispy Beijing Duck Wrap pancakes. Everyone enjoys these, although the Stropolina comments that using Hoisin sauce is cheating because it makes everything taste good. Next up is Chestnut Sang Choy Bow. I quite enjoy this as it is nice and crunchy in its lettuce leaf wrapper, but the Stropolina can’t finish hers, tapping out after only a few mouthfuls. With the entrees out of the way the table rapidly fills up with plates. There is a Malay-ish curry with potato and chicken substitute which is nice enough but I am beginning to understand what onion brings to the table normally. Better_Than Salt & Pepper Calamari isn’t, especially when it starts to get cold. Shantung Not Chicken is good although we do spend a fair bit of time examining the follicles on the skin of the Not Chicken. Ginger Sea Treasures turns out to be a rolled up thin pancake with seaweed mushrooms and ginger and it is very nice. We order Five Grain Rice to accompany all of this and it turns out to be a combination of rice, beans, barley and buckwheat. It is nice enough but I can’t finish mine, however Strop likes hers and asks for a container to take the rest of mine home.

As usual we have over-ordered, mainly out of curiosity this time rather than greed which is the normal situation. Even though I am full, I quite like the idea of trying some tofu ice cream, but I am voted down by MLE who decides that we need cocktails to overcome our alcohol deficits more than we need dessert analogues.

We relocate to a bar where we partake of complex combinations of exotic alcohols and contemplate the evening. It has turned out to be more of an anthropological investigation than a normal dining experience, the Not_Food more interesting as a curiosity than as actual food.

Next time it is more Asian food, this time Japanese at Asakusa. I am still hanging out for a steak.

111 Thanh Binh – Tres Bien

April 13, 2013 by Andrew Christie 4 Comments

Thanh Binh is the quest’s first Vietnamese restaurant, and I am certainly glad to metaphorically cross the mighty Mekong River – represented somewhat inadequately tonight by Elizabeth Street – into the refuge of a non-Thai cuisine. Love my Thai and all, but 3 in a row is enough. Tonight we’re looking forward to some Vietnamese and a complete absence of number 37.

We’ve been to Thanh Binh before, but not for a few years. I have a mental block about the name, I always think of it as Tres Bien – probably something to do with the French/Vietnamese thing and a very short, subliminal restaurant review. It doesn’t appear to have changed much, still packed on a Friday night.

Tonight we are joined by John, Pauline, Jill and Roy. Old friends who are desperate to join the quest and see their names in print. It turns out that not only are we are having a good old get together, we are also celebrating Strop’s new job. So fizzy alcohol in tall glasses is required. Well done Strop! Can I retire now?

We are just getting used to Strop’s new celebratory status when John announces that in order to give me something to write about he has selflessly arranged for Pauline to be put on a strict diet that only allows her to eat not very much at all. I am sad to say that my first thought – goodo, all the more for me – was not a worthy one. Poor Pauline. Oh well, now what are the rest of us eating?

I glance at the menu and decide that it requires more attention to detail than I am prepared to give as all the names are in Vietnamese, so Strop does the ordering. The waiter is very helpful arranging some plain chicken to meet Pauline’s dietary restrictions. While all this is going on, I get on with the chatting. We are on a circular table, perfectly suited for 6 diners so you can actually talk to everyone else on the table. This is a very fine arrangement, and in order to keep Roy happy we have also done a very fine job of boy-girl-boying so everyone’s partner is opposite them. This seems very auspicious to me and I wonder if there is a Vietnamese equivalent of Feng Shui that we have accidentally stumbled upon.

The first food to arrive is Pauline’s special poached chicken, complete with coriander garnish which is immediately disallowed and banished to an empty glass. The chicken sits in the middle of the table looking a bit lonely until some other dishes start to arrive. Once the food starts though, it doesn’t seem to stop. I rather rashly told Strop to over order, and for once she has listened to me.

Poached chicken with garnish re-instated

There are rice paper rolls and vegetarian omelettes to start. Then clean plates arrive along with DIY kits for making more rice paper rolls with very tasty pork fillings. Lots of reaching and passing is involved as we all take turns struggling to produce strange, misshapen and leaky parcels. It’s a wonder any of us made it through kindergarten with fine motor skills like this. But luckily they taste very good, particularly the lemongrass pork, so we persevere.

More new plates appear on the table heralding the arrival of some stunt ‘cook at the table’ food. Jill can’t help being helpful and starts passing the plates around the table, only to be chastised by the waiter who needs them right where he put them, thank you very much. This turns out to be tumeric fish in a clay-pot, although the clay pot turns out to be a little wok on a gas burner, and this is good too.

The conversation covers a lot of territory. We learn more than we need to know about John’s predilection for bicycles called Beyonce, and being stalked by a bicycle mechanic. Then suddenly we’re in Tasmania and Roy is talking about the famous wall-of-vaginas at the Museum of Old and New Art. Now I know why people talk about MONA as a theme park for adults – I’m definitely going. When Jill starts talking about Roy’s obsession with wooden boats, I butt in to float my theory that Margaret Thatcher is the victim of misogynist misunderstandings. Luckily more new plates arrive just in the nick of time.

I have this theory about Mrs Thatcher... — I have this theory about Mrs Thatcher…

This time they are for twice cooked aniseed duck, salmon in tamarind sauce and water spinach, Strop’s Vietnamese equivalent of number 37. Water spinach, or rau-mung, as it is known in our household, is the dish she always orders in a Vietnamese restaurant, no matter what. There does seem to be some confusion about what it is actually called, but it will always be rau-mung to us – and we’ve been to Vietnam, ok? Tonight’s incarnation of rau-mung comes with lots of crunchy bean sprouts and okra. Jill and I approve of this innovation. Yum. The only real disappointment is the salmon, which is in a syrupy tamarind sauce.

So, Thanh Binh – tres bien.

Next week we’re fronting up to that vegan’s delight, the Green Gourmet. Is it a coincidence that I have just realised that this end of King Street is crying out for a decent steakhouse, or is it just my carnivore stomach talking.

109 Thai Riffic – My boss told me I’d run out of things to say

April 6, 2013 by Andrew Christie 1 Comment

I’ve been eyeing off Thai Riffic ever since it opened. It is intriguing with its mismatched combination of a charmingly absurd pun name, and its too-cool-for-school Thai-yuppie aesthetic. It didn’t seem very Newtown – very King Street – when it opened back in whenever, but then every time I go past it has lots of punters facing up to the plate. So what would I know? It is bigger than most of the Thai places on King Street, occupying a whole building on the corner of the laneway known as Elizabeth Street. With its facade painted an alluring shade of indeterminate colour, its restrained signage, and moody lighting, this is a Thai restaurant but not as we have come to know them. It’s the sort of place that doesn’t number its menu. Aspirational Thai, a new demographic.

So it’s Friday night. We have a booking for 5 at 7:30, but I get to the strip early as I’m the only one with nothing better to do before eating than to wander up and down, checking out the young people in the trendy new bars, wondering if it is cool for a lone old folk to occupy a retro-recliner and read a sci-fi novel on my ipad while sipping on a daiquiri. No, probably not, so I opted for a pub, a middy, and a game of rugby where the underdog didn’t get up in the second half.

With the consumption of my middy perfectly timed, I turned up outside Thai Riffic just in time to meet Anna. Matt and Strop arrived soon after, gradually filling up our slightly over sized, and somewhat sticky table. Jamie is driving from Bankstown so there is no telling when he will arrive. We are located next to the kitchen in a passage way that opens out into the rear courtyard. It is a bit noisy but we are well placed to hail passing waiters. There are plenty of them and they are needed. This place is huge and pretty close to capacity tonight. There is more room upstairs as well. The first thing I notice, apart from very pleasant smells from the kitchen, is the number of small children arriving complete with prams. Family friendly. The crowd is generally young and there are a few large tables for birthdays celebrations. Everyone seems noisily happy.

Anna tells me that her friend Frank had died earlier that day – her own husband, our dear friend Gordon died only two months ago. We are at an age where people we know well are dying around us. People the same age, people younger. I found out this week that my favourite living author Iain Banks, has terminal cancer. His new book will be his last. Not anyone close, but he is the same age as me, and he writes like a bastard, with wit and charm to float his imagined worlds. He wrote very honestly and unsentimentally about his illness on his website: “I am officially Very Poorly”. So yes, death is in the air this week. I suppose it always is, but sometimes it comes into our orbit and we cannot ignore it. But let’s try anyway.

On finding out the menu is unencumbered with numbers, Strop goes all FFS and gives Matt the job of counting – that is the price of joining us on the quest. We order entrees of Crispy Crab Dumplings, Duck Rolls and Chicken Pandans. The waiter is very happy to provide 5 pieces of each instead of the standard 4, so there will be no unseemly arguments or messy dividing up to be done. This time Number 37 is Sizzling Garlic And Pepper Beef. To accompany it we lean heavily on the signature dishes and all-time favourites lists, deciding on Crispy Pork With Sweet Chilli And Kaffir Lime, Chilli Jam Soft Shell Crab, Five Spice Duck, and Papaya Salad. We are drinking a very easy to take West Australian dry Rosé from the wine list.

Jamie arrives just before the entrees, having hot-footed it from the Seymour Centre where he has parked, as he and Matt are planning to consume some improvisational jazz after the Thai tucker.

The entrees are hot and crispy but not spectacular. The conversation ranges over a variety of topics – whether keeping your wallet in your hip pocket can lead to leg paralysis – man bags – why young people can’t use email – should Generation Y be re-named Generation WTF – the problems of fat fingers and tiny screens – the technical definition of a grandchild’s first steps – car sexuality – apparently you unlock a Prius by having a large black thing in your pocket while stroking it’s handle(!).

Strop showing off the incredible walking grandchild — Strop showing Matt the incredible walking grandchild

The mains arrive before I have time to fully explore this last topic. Some are excellent, others not really. The pork and the salad are disappointing, too much flavour in one and not enough in the other. The crab is wonderful, crunchy and lots of aniseedy flavours from the sweet basil, and the sizzling beef is very good too. The servings are generous so there is no room for dessert or even for a gelato on the way home.

My impression of Thai Riffic is that it could be very good but suffers a bit from its aspirations and the scale of the operation. There is no time for attention to detail. The food is generally good but not great, the prices are not cheap but not expensive, the staff are friendly but a bit sloppy. It would be interesting to go back when it is not so busy – but there is no time for that, our first Vietnamese is next: Thanh Binh. We’ve got a long way to go and winter is coming.