chips

Saltwater Café – Voucher System Part 2: Redemption

July 24, 2017 by andyadmin Leave a Comment

Greetings from the treehouse.

As I explained in the last episode, some very generous friends gave Strop and I gift vouchers for local eateries when we moved to the south coast. The last of these was for Saltwater Café, a little stand alone fish and chip joint perched above the waters of the boat harbour in the middle of Bermagui.

We had already sampled their wares a couple of times, mostly sitting at the tables in the nearby park, watching the boats and other harbour goings on, and fighting off the gulls. The setting is fantastic, and the fish and chips are a match.

For this special voucher-powered visit, we decided to try the dining-in experience instead. We went for lunch and found a table out on the balcony, so we would still be in the fresh air. The café part of Saltwater doesn’t seem to get the same lunchtime queuing action as the takeaway window. There were only two other couples there the day we went.

We decided to maximise the value of our voucher by trying to sample as wide a variety of offerings as possible. So we ordered the Seafood Platter, however as Strop is a stickler for healthy eating, lifestyles, we opted for grilled instead of battered. This last-minute lurch away from my usual cholesterol-charged dining tendencies put us in line for an unexpected treat. When our enormous platter arrived, its foundation layer was made up of enormous yellowfin tuna steaks. I imagine that this is subject to seasonal variation, but we were very impressed. While Saltwater Café is primarily a takeaway operation, it obviously makes great use of the local catch, and they decided that a grilled platter should make use of the best grilling fish they had. It was very terrific, but a little more generous than even we could cope with.

On top of the tuna there were plenty of other treats. The oysters came in two styles – natural and with grilled cheese. Now, the whole grilled oyster thing can be controversial, and I admit it seems a bit weird to me, but then others argue that eating oysters any way is weird. In any case, I for one am happy to eat them any way someone is willing to prepare them. The prawns came two ways too: grilled and cold. There were also grilled scallops and a pile of calamari. Plus chips and salad for the vegetarians.

It was a feast, but we had left some room for an after-lunch gelato, and walked away with a takeaway box jammed with leftover tuna, and a surprising amount of dignity.

The aptly named Gelato Clinic is in the new boat harbour complex, within an easy cast of Saltwater Café. We have always been impressed by the unusual and delicious flavours this joint produces. My favourite so far is coffee and cardamon.

So now all our vouchers have been redeemed, and I am very happy to report that there is no danger of us starving down here, so far from the bright lights of King Street.

Sydney International Terminal – Top Gear comes to Terminal 1

November 21, 2015 by Andrew Christie Leave a Comment

One of the lasting effects of The Quest (arguably its only legacy) has been to instil in Strop and me a great need to go out on Friday nights. If we don’t, we accelerate the aging process. We end up watching third-rate British crime shows on the ABC, and comforting ourselves with chocolate and whisky.

Friday night is the gateway to the weekend and, by embracing it as fully as our 9:30 curfew allows, we can engage a little known Einsteinian time-stretching effect, to make the weekend longer. It is an altogether better way to start the weekend than to leave it to the normal Saturday morning kick off. I can’t believe that it has taken the Quest to make me understand this fundamental law.

Whatever is going on Friday nights, Strop and I are always looking for an opportunity to turn it into an occasion for drinking, eating and hopefully some laughing.

Well this particular Friday night was a bit different. Keir, one of our multitudinous nephews (you will no doubt remember his famous appearances at the Amazon Steakhouse and Dean’s Diner), was setting off for London to fit in a few months of adventuring before starting uni next year. Strop had the bright idea of trying out the dining opportunities at the Sydney International Terminal, while we farewelled the ridiculously good-looking Keir.

On a ludicrously hot evening, the newly licensed Stropolina drove Strop to the airport, while I, being much more conscious of the state of the environment, caught the train. It was a race worthy of the Top Gear tossers, with me in the role of the one with long hair, the Stropolina as the overbearing one, and Strop as the short perky one. The race concluded on foot, with a sprint along the concourse. It is a bloody long way from one end of the terminal to the other and thoughtlessly, Keir had chosen an airline based solely on the fact that its check-in counter matched the initial of his first name. I finally caught up with Clarkson and Hammond at the check-in lines, where Keir and his entourage (Em, Tess, Will and Charlie) had that zoned-out look of resignation, that one adopts in airport queues. Our arrival was apparently the cue for Will and Charlie (of Mad Mex and Oldtown in Newtown fame) to start entertaining the crowd by limbo-ing their way beneath the retractable barrier thingys.

It was always going to be a struggle to get Will and Charlie to think about food when there was a world of temptation just behind them

Even the efforts of entertainers as sophisticated and nuanced as Will and Charlie were not enough to disguise the fact that being in a queue that you don’t have to be in is the most boring pastime known to humanity. So we left Keir to slowly wend his way towards counter K, and went off in search of alcohol and food.

The dining opportunities at the International Terminal are basically along the lines of a shopping centre food hall – but with Border Force.

We eventually found the airport equivalent of a pub, conveniently located right back down at the other end of the concourse. Unfortunately, the bar was understaffed and we arrived just after a thirty-strong tour group of Chinese travel agents. We eventually got some beers in, but Will and Charlie were too distracted by the arcade games machines to commit to any of the food on offer. While we drank up, and Keir filled in the bits of paper that Border Force were going to need, Will and Charlie re-enacted famous scenes from Top Gear series 19. We had to drag them away from their race around the Nurburgring when a disagreement about the correct line to take on turn 12 threatened to turn into an ugly argument about which of them was the real Stig.

Imagine how much fun they'd have if we put some coins in — Imagine how much fun they’d have if we put some coins in

Acknowledging the wide range of palate sophistication within the group, we decided to embrace the food hall concept, establishing a base camp at a centrally located table. From here each of us could forage for our food of choice, without driving the others crazy. Quite a few of us went the Mexican option, possibly in a nostalgic tribute to Will’s Iron Man period. The boys themselves were only ever going to be satisfied by burgers and chips, while Tess went for chicken and chips. Tess certainly won the battle of the chips. Fat and crunchy with actual potato flavour will always beat thin and flaccid with no discernible flavour. She couldn’t finish her chicken though, which enabled Strop and Em to indulge in the old family ritual of picking over someone else’s bones. I enjoyed my slow-cooked-pork nachos except for the weird liquid cheese stuff that I unwittingly agreed to because I couldn’t hear what the guy assembling my meal was saying. The rest though, was great.

Will suddenly realised he had a vegetable in his mouth and no one was paying attention

Eventually it was time for the man of the hour to step up and take off. After lots of group hugs, and a brief discussion of whether he is better looking than Daniel Craig, Keir disappeared into the tender embrace of Border Force, and the rest of us headed for the car park.

So, if you find yourself in a situation where you are going to have a meal at the International Terminal, take Will and Charlie with you. You’ll have a laugh if nothing else.

576 Union Hotel – More connections than Telstra

June 6, 2015 by Andrew Christie Leave a Comment

Tuesday nights. There is something about them and the renewal of old connections. Last time it was Uncle Carl, this time it’s Lisa from Carwoola, and Greg from Kioloa (this is starting to sound like ABC talkback radio). In the dark distant past when the Stropette was still a poppet, and the Stropolina still far in the future, Strop and I rented an historic (run down) cottage on a farm outside Canberra. There were other cottages and other young couples and a few children, as well as chooks and lambs and tiger snakes. That was the year the drought broke, and Hawkey came to power. I remember watching the election results on the television in the living room of one of our new neighbours. When it became clear that labour had won someone shouted out, “Fantastic, I’m applying for an arts grant on Monday.” Aah, those were the days. Lisa and Andrew, her partner at the time, lived in the cottage near the shearing shed, we had the cottage in the front paddock, Jane and Jim were almost next door and Bill and Janette were in the next paddock. The owners of the property lived in the Big House and didn’t mix with the tenants much. We all drifted away eventually, moving into town or down the coast, lost touch, as you do. Heard sporadic news, as you do. And then some nerd became extremely rich by inventing Facebook. And people started finding each other again.

We haven’t seen Lisa since about 1984. She’s been living down the south coast, while we’ve moved to the smoke. Her current bloke, Greg, grew up at Kioloa, which is by way of being one of our favourite little coastal villages. He works for National Parks. Strop and I used to do consulting work for National Parks. Do you know so and so? Really? How is she/he? What are they up to? I worked with them on Biamanga. Or was it Gulaga? Did you know that thingy had moved to Byron? All that. So many connections. Specific ones as well as the general stage of life ones, involving things children do, grandchildren arrivals, and parental departures. We are now the generation that bonds over the shared experience of spreading our parents ashes upon the waters. “They’ve got these recycled cardboard containers now. You put the ashes in them and float them away. Eventually they sink and the cardboard dissolves.” I want one shaped like a viking long boat.

There was a lot to talk about, but we needed food. And drinks. The Union is one of those trendy pubs (I’m looking at you too, Forest Lodge) that has an awful lot of beer taps for beers you’ve never heard of. All with silly names that aren’t really that funny. Strop likes this sort of thing because she is Open To New Experiences, I don’t because I Can’t Stand The Tension, and all I really want is a nice sessional beer. They have a lot of whiskys too, all with names I’ve heard of, and all of which deserve my attention, but that will have wait for another time.

When the front bar was taken over by the Trivia hooligans, juiced up on the excitement of showing off how smart they are, like a bunch of five-year olds who’ve had too much food colouring, we toddled out the back to The Eatery. Unfortunately the heating system didn’t accompany us, so we had to wear our jackets as we squinted our aged eyes to read the big blackboard menu.

The Burger Wars were then reconvened. It has been a while – the last pub on the Quest was the Newtown Social Club, and I can’t remember a thing about that experience. Lisa and Greg decided that they would go the burger as well. However, when Lisa chose the the chickpea fritter burger I had my doubts about whether she was really entering into the spirit of the Burger Wars. I suppose her claim that the last time she had eaten a burger was in 1973, should have been a clue. Greg and I went the meat route. Beef burger with bacon for me, Chinese style BBQ pork for him. Strop turned her back on the Wars altogether and had the salmon. A very disappointing effort.

My burger came with more bacon than the bun could cope with, and the bits that were sticking out beyond their bready blanket were quite cold by the time my gnashers trimmed them off (just a quick tidying-up skirmish before the main confrontation). Generally, the burger was excellent but there were some structural issues with the bun. Greg found his pork burger “Very tasty.” And Lisa really liked the eggplant (I think there is a hipster gag there somewhere but I just can’t get hold of it). She really liked the chips too, “They’re up there with the ones those two Italian blokes make down on the flat there at Narooma.” I don’t think there can be any higher chip praise.

Did I mention that Strop ordered the salmon?

Afterwards we left Lisa and Greg with icecream cones clasped in their icy hands as they headed for the station, while we toddled down the hill towards home. Strop decided that she had met Greg before, in one of the many, many meetings with stakeholders, that working for a Government agency involves.

387 Newtown Social Club – Evacuation imperatives

August 17, 2014 by Andrew Christie 2 Comments

I feel like a bit of a fraud writing about the Newtown Social Club without having been to a gig there. A quick glance at their website will tell you that this place is first and foremost a music venue, which is lovely, except that most bands don’t start hauling their amps up the stairs before my bedtime. So this is going to be a review of the drinkey and eatey bits of NSC rather than the venuey bits.
This is the first time we have eaten at the Social Club, but I have had a few quiet settling ales there before plunging on to various quest destinations. One of the things I have noticed is that the front bar seems to have been mainly designed with evacuation in mind. There are very wide front doors and a distinct lack of furniture except around the walls. No doubt this is part of the requirement to get large numbers of sweaty music fans off the premises quickly, but it does limit the opportunities for sitting down with a quiet beer in the front bar.
Out the back though, there are plenty of tables and chairs – and a kitchen. The menu is refreshingly concise. As this venue used to be a pub, I have decided to conscript it for the Burger Wars. In contrast to Deans Diner, there are only two types of burger on offer. You’ve got your meat burger, or your vegie burger. And the pulled pork roll does not pretend to be a burger, which is a refreshing change (I’m looking at you Bank Hotel).

The lighting is so dim that I have to go and stand in front of the blackboard menu before I can actually work out what the fine print says. A pleasant surprise is the prices: $13 for a burger, $9.50 for a pork roll. We try the salt and pepper squid for entree and a beef burger for him and a pulled pork roll for her.
The crowd is mixed. The younger folk are in the front bar where the main feature is the pool table. In the dining area the demographic seems a bit older. Tonight there is a surprising amount of turquoise coloured hair, even for Newtown. There is a large group of women with quite a few attendant children, making me wonder if the Wiggles were playing upstairs, but Strop decided it was just a birthday celebration. The dining room is a good spot for groups, with tables that can easily be dragged into a variety of configurations.
The food doesn’t take too long and is generally good. The squid is tender and spicy with a nice bit of wasabi in the aioli. Always a plus. The insides of the pork roll and the burger are good too, but both are let down by the quality of the buns. My burger suffers near catastrophic failure when all the juices combine with the pressure of my fingers to turn the bun into very tasty, finger-licking mush. Luckily we have plenty of napkins on hand for just such an emergency. The pulled pork and the chili salsa are excellent, and the chips are some of the best we have encountered on the quest. As Strop put it “They were crispy even when they should have been soggy.”
There is a nice noisy relaxed vibe to the Social Club. Good music playing and it’s not too crowded. If they had a few more comfortable places to sit I might become a regular.

215 Burgerlicious – Part 3 of the Burger Wars

November 9, 2013 by Andrew Christie 13 Comments

I have a funny feeling niggling away at the back of my skull that Burgerlicious may have been the first King Street eatery that we ventured out to when we moved to the district all those aeons ago. My memories of that visit are unclear other than the choice was left to a couple of young Canberra-raised teenage girls and we ended up with burgers and fries. No real surprises there. So Burgerlicious is a definite stayer, outlasting many other food slingers on the strip. It looks and feels exactly the same as I remember it, just a bit more worn around the edges. In need of an injection of love and capital, just like the table we sat at, which had one leg projecting at an alarming angle, seemingly only held on by blue tack.

Tonight’s outing is a bit unusual because:

It’s not Friday.
It’s Halloween – although on King Street, really, what’s the difference?
We are babysitting the Pancetta while the Stropette and the Stropolina worship at the glittering toenails of Beyoncé.

So it’s an early start and we are remarkable for our sobriety (responsible grandparenting 1.01 – don’t leave yourself open to an accusation of being drunk in charge of a toddler).

Burgerlicious has invested all its pretensions in its name. The room is just an unembellished cave, completely open at the street end, with tables along both walls, a counter across the back, and presumably a kitchen behind that. We choose a table near the entrance to the cave so that we can watch any Halloween hi-jinx on the street. The Pancetta is still a bit wary of us, wondering where the hell her mother and aunty have gone, and why Granma and Grandad have de-skyped themselves off the computer screen and into 3 dimensional touchy-feelyness. In order to allay her fears, it is important to feed her quickly and buy her goodwill with chips and ginger beer.

It's only ginger beer... — It’s only ginger beer…

While Strop and the Pancetta venture to the back of the cave to do the ordering (Pancetta is in charge of holding the purse – how cute is that!!), I am left in charge of the bags and the stroller. Strop reckons she has just seen the chief suspect in the Good-Friday-Purse-Lightening-Affair, out on the footpath, so nothing is to be left unattended.

The order is a Jalapeso, a Bostino and a Cheeseburger, plus chips and ginger beers. While we are waiting for the burgers, Strop introduces the Pancetta to the joys of ginger beer and we watch the passing parade of tranny’s dressed as sexy-nurse-zombies. Just another weekday evening on King Street.

The burgers arrive on actual plates, and with chips (not fries) on the side. They are big lumps of deep-fried potato that you can sink your teeth into. Pancetta is a natural. She cottons onto the concept of chip eating so quickly that Strop and I have to quickly invent a new rule: One bite of chip / One bite of burger. She doesn’t cotton onto this quite as quickly. The burgers are delicious but messy to eat and we soon find ourselves running off for more napkins (Note to the Burgerlicious management: this is the kind of food that napkin dispensers on the table were invented for). I am very impressed with the Pancetta’s expertise with the napkin, dabbing and wiping her fingers like a professional. The girl is obviously very advanced.

The only other customer is an old guy sitting on the street wearing enormous DJ earphones and sporting an I ♡ Phoenix Arizona tee shirt. It is a pity that he doesn’t want to listen to the Burgerlicious soundrack because it is quite good, featuring a selection of hits by the late, lamented Chrissy Amphlett. When Cyndi Lauper comes on she is accompanied by the arrival of a giggle of ten year old girls, who look like they just want to have fun too. The Pancetta is smitten of course. She can see the future, and it is looking goood. While she goes down the back of the cave to stand in awe, watching the big girls having fun and eating burgers, Strop and I discuss burger ratings. Very nice but tending towards structural failure is the general conclusion. Probably better than Burger Fuel, but messy to eat (a six napkin effort), and not as good as the burgers at the Marly, which is still the one to beat.

The Cooper Hotel is next up so we will continue the Burger Wars there.

Hey this ginger beer is good stuff... — Hey this ginger beer is good stuff…