The Press Club

72 Flinders St, Melbourne; 03 9677 9677

Listening to David Sedaris at the Melbourne Writers' Festival recently, I was taken with his statement that sometimes he feels like his life has become a story. At such times he resists the compunction to take out his notebook and notate what's happening, as he doesn't want to do anything to bring the situation to an end before its natural conclusion.

There's a tenuous link between that concept and my recent dining experience at The Press Club. Originally I was going to say that I took my inspiration from a recent post at AOF's Confessions, where she discusses the idea that by constantly thinking as a blogger - analysing and worrying over lighting conditions for photos - we diminish our ability to savour our eating experiences in the moment. I think Sedaris' notion was closer to my reasons for not photographing my food at The Press Club though: troubling myself with that usual aspect of my dining excursions didn't fit in with the way I wanted to experience this rare and treasured treat.

I am, nevertheless, compelled to record it here. I have read much about George Calombaris' skills and the awe in which many hold his treatment of Greek cuisine, and had experienced it in reduced form at The Press Club Bar. I hadn't quite understood what was meant by a lot of the language: Lethlean uses phrases like 'modern, yet reverent' and 'springboard' comes up a lot, but now, having taken on the full dining experience it's quite clear. The ingredients are classic, traditional – lamb, beetroot, honey, cheese, mushrooms – yet their treatment is revolutionary without being unapproachable, without making them unrecognisable.

With the quality on offer the menu is expansive without being so extensive that choice seems impossible. It divides into small and large dishes and while 'kerasma' is available - a chef's choice of dishes, with or without dessert and wine - we decide to control our intake; given our tastes and predilections the four dishes brought to our table almost order themselves.

Seared scallops souvlaki, Santorini caper leaf keftedes (meatballs) and cauliflower vinaigrette arrives skewered on its own sword. A salad of cumin-roasted beetroot, pistachio biscuit, yoghurt cheese and Attiki honey offers so many combinations (there's a picture on the restaurant's homepage): the nuttiness of the cake-like tower of biscuit, soft and spongey when you cut into it; the sour-savoury cheese wrapped in herbs; and the honey, undoubtedly sweet but in such a fundamental way that it doesn't so much taste sweet, as demonstrate sweetness. (You know you're in a good place when the food promotes musing on the metaphysical.)

At Melbourne's best Greek restaurant it would seem requisite to order the lamb: in this case a 'hot off the press' lamb spit with white bean skordalia, lemon potatoes and marouli salad (lettuce dressed with dill and vinaigrette). The lamb, as expected, is superb: tender, moreish, extraordinarily flavoured and textured. It would be hard to imagine a better fine dining experience. Unless, as was my blessed experience, you had ordered the duck.

The duck. Perhaps I should have written the post as just a reflection on this one dish. The menu description reads as: slow-cooked duck in olive oil, mushrooms, garlic, parsley and greek kafe and sokolata soil (a crunchy, crumbly mix of coffee and chocolate). There's a process to its consumption: as the soil is sprinkled onto the duck it begins to melt into it, at the same time breaking down the meat, which was already separating so willingly from the bone, even further. What takes place is so much more than a fusion to produce a new flavour combination. Instead the ingredients alchemise – creating an altogether new entity unlike any flavour made up of the component ingredients.

The Press Club has been hyped, praised and awarded. In this case it's deserved: this is extremely high quality, innovative, thoughtful food. After our experience at The Point, I will say that I find it surprising that restaurants at this level seem to assume diners want to stay the night - both meals lasted 3.5 hours - but the staff at The Press Club were so enthusiastic, genuine and knowledgeable that I almost felt compelled to forgive their interest in re-setting tables rather than bringing us dessert menus.

Alchemy and metaphysics. George Calombaris is an exciting man to have in the kitchen, and the anticipation over Hellenic Republic grows ever greater.

Beetroot

123 Hardware St, Melbourne; 03 9600 0695

Beetroot have assessed their market and tailored an irresistible lunch option accordingly. During the week, a good range of pre-prepared meals are available for $10 and a tumbler of their house wine for just $1. If that won't get you away from your desk and out of the office, I don't know what you're waiting for!

The pre-preparation is an indicator that your food will not only be cheap but also quick to the table, rather than a suggestion of poor quality. A bowl of chicken pesto pasta is a perfect demonstration: a drizzle of parsley and sundried tomatoes sit atop firm pasta and a sauce that wasn't excessively creamy. The serving size was spot on for lunch, and the addition of a side salad is both commendable for the price and guilt-assuaging after taking the creamy pasta option.

If it's more of a sugar hit you're after to power through the afternoon, indulge in a milk, dark or white hot chocolate with persian candy floss. You could almost consider it a dessert and, at $3.80, it could give you a two-course lunch, with a glass of wine, for less than $15!

Earlier in the year, Mellie over at tummy rumbles set herself the challenge of working through Beetroot's autumn breakfast menu. It makes for great reading!

Brother Baba Budan

359 Little Bourke St, Melbourne

Hot drinks have had their moments in the spotlight on this blog, but they tend to be on the peripheral of reviews, mentioned in addition to the food on offer as an extra indication of a venue's style and worth. On this occasion, however, there's no food stealing the limelight, in part because this particular venue doesn't really serve food (with the exception of the odd pastry): at BBB, it's all about the coffee.

Run by the same bloke who looked after St Ali in South Melbourne, this is a cafe devoted to the service of the best coffee possible. There's not a lot to recommend the place from the outside - an intriguing shingle would probably indicate a boutique rather than a cafe to the uninitiated - yet within that subtley is an immediate allure, and that's before you notice the flock of chairs stuck to the ceiling. Coffee franchises often note their 'blend of the day', which indicates which packet they opened under orders from Head Office that morning. At BBB that blend will be something developed and roasted by the guys making the coffee, and tasting notes for each are provided on their website. It's not a place to stop into for a quick takeaway, either: they take the necessary care with each cup.

So, what was it about my takeaway cup of caffeine that so tickled the tastebuds? Sipped without sugar, the coffee was extremely bitter, but not in an aggravating way. There was no puckering: alongside the bitter taste was an astonishingly smooth mouthfeel. It actually made me think of a whiskey, in the way tart taste and smooth texture combined. By the time I added sugar it became an extraordinary and, given the lateness of the previous evening, life-giving drink.

Bar Lourinha

37 Lt Collins St, Melbourne; 03 9663 7890

Bar Lourinha isn't a big space, yet for its narrowness it can squeeze in a lot of lively patrons on a Thursday night. The kitchen takes up almost as space as the dining/drinking area. It's a valid split, since this bar takes its unmistakably Spanish- and Portuguese-influenced food very seriously. What open space there is has been designed and decorated effectivelyto ensure a convivial drinking setting, with low lounges in the front window and bar and bench seating.

The menu here is not tapas - serving sizes go beyond what one would cover the top of a glass with. In fact, both pricing and serving size sit somewhere between snack and main meal. Most dishes are $12-17, (the specials were a little pricier), and while our chosen two looked a little on the small side I left full enough to last through 'Hamlet' without craving a snack.

Octopus stifado takes its inspiration from the other side of the Mediterranean, a Greek cooking method involving slow stweing in a tomato sauce, usually with garlic and cinnamon. The sweet spice in this case, however, was allspice berry: tiny caviar-like spheres. A much stronger flavour came from the thyme that had rested with the tomato and adorned the dish. This wasn't baby octopus , but instead the 'big' variety, as the waitress put it. Despite imagining a serving plate the length of our shared bench table, our allotted portions of the eight-legged creature fitted into a modest bowl. Octopus is a bit challenging: it not only easily turns tough if not handled correctly, but the suckers and head cavity present quite different textures. Here they had managed it quite well - the suckers had that lovely, slightly resistant feel of squid, whereas the head was closer to the texture of a long-stewed meat like rabbit. The stew was well-balanced too between tomato sweetness and inevitable saltiness from the aquatic animal.

The second dish was the housemade chorizo, with red wine and nicola potatoes. As you'll see from the pic, 'potatoes' was a little generous! The chorizo was softer and moister than what one normally picks up from the deli. Underneath its taut skin the meat fell away in little pieces like a meatball might. It had the unmistakable cured flavour of the Spanish sausage, however, and plenty of garlic had stuck through the curing process.

The bread that accompanied the meal came in a smoothly turned wooden bowl, and could only be described as a hunk: a big wodge of sourdough for us to tear and share between us. It served well for mopping up the oily, salty cooking juice that accompanied the chorizo.

The Point

Aquatic Drive, Albert Park Lake; 03 9682 5566

A birthday dinner took us south of the river and north of our normal price limit. The Point is a renowned meat restaurant, with sample cuts of their pasture- and grain-fed, eye fillet and porterhouse cuts at the entrance to the restaurant. On this occasion, stopping to peruse these potential meal choices, or heading to the toilets, left diners a little over-exposed to a business function that was pumping out some truly awful sounds: 80s pop (not all of which is bad, I know, but we're talking Whitney Houston) and, even worse, 30-something corporate types belting out hits from their teenage years after a few too many glasses of sparkling. So much for ambience!

It was quieter in the restaurant, thankfully. Things remained very quiet around our table. We were in one of the three tables against the back wall and for the first half of our rather elongated stay (3.5 hours) received very little attention from any of the waitstaff. This poor service raised two questions: 1) what is it about certain demeanours - and this happens in hospitality and retail - that say to the staff 'I'm fine, just ignore me and carry on serving everyone else'? and 2) just how much do you have to pay for a meal to ensure that the corollary quality of service comes with it?

I could digress at length on the menu, since we were given at least 20 minutes to peruse it, before a waiter remembered us and came over to tell us the specials and belatedly, on request, bring a wine list. I was very tempted by the artichoke baragoule (braised artichokes in white wine and 'aromates') with tomatoes, olives and shallots, but just wasn't convinced it would be a satisfying dinner. The Point Parma - with besan fries, tomato fondue and tarragon jus - was also very tempting. Not to mention the veal blanquette with sauce albufera, which features stock, foie gras, cream, truffle, port Cognac and Madeira!

But had there ever been any real chance of me not ordering wagyu? I didn't get the porterhouse ($55) but instead went for the braised wagyu beef cheek, with poached quince and macaroni gratin. The cheek, not surprisingly, doesn't feature the famed wagyu marble, but it's an incredibly soft, tender cut of meat. Here it was served in a rich, sweet sauce that was almost a syrup. The meat itself had caramelised around the edges. The poached quince had just enough grain and firmness to add an quasi steak-like complement to the melting meat. A pillow of extremely buttery, almost liquid potato mash sat to one side. The combination was delicious when first served but became just a tad too sweet after several mouthfuls. As the meat cooled its texture also became slightly stewy. I did like the balance of colour on the plate: the lone 'macaroni' matching the potatoes and the quince and meat nestling their dark, moon shapes into one another.

The Point's menu reserves a separate page for Beef, with most steak dishes accompanied by The Point Garnish of bone marrow and shallot bouchee and a selection of mustards and sauces. SG chose the 120-day-aged, grain-fed eye fillet. It's a mountainous piece of meat, merrily topped by a whole roasted garlic clove. It was ever so slightly over-seared on the edges, but on the inside, it glowed a rich pink that, in the candlelight, rivalled the glow of red from the wine glass. When one tastes meat handled this reverently, one does wonder why they'd ever touch anything less.

We also ordered three side dishes. The roast pumpkin with feta, pinenuts and sage came very attractively served:The pumpkin was extremely sweet and the contrast against the goaty feta was quite stark. Chat potatoes, rosemary oil and confit garlic, served in a small La Creuset dish, are definitely worth the $8. The honey glazed carrots we ordered arrived as the broccolini side instead, which we sent back, and had to call over the maitre'd after we'd finished eating everything else to tell him not to worry about bringing that extra dish out.

Throwing monetary caution to the wind, we pressed on with a dessert each. A vanilla bean creme brulee was quite custardy, but the accompanying 'minestrone of autumn fruits' was fine and delicate. The pain perdu was superb. A take on French toast, it featured custard-soaked brioche, caramelised banana, glass biscuits and, most wondrously, Pedro Ximenex and bitter chocolate sorbet. Despite its richness, I couldn't waste a drop of that extraordinary sorbet and used every bit of brioche, banana and biscuit to capture it.

Towards the end of the meal our waiter spent some time at the table, apologising about the missing side dish and our long wait for desserts, explaining that early-comers eating slowly and late-comers eating quickly had left the chef in a dither. Particularly with the carrots, I am flabbergasted that a restaurant charging $38 a main, plus sides, could make such a junior-level error, and that the waiter thought we would be appeased by the explanation - if I pay a restaurant that much to cook my meat, the kitchen and floorstaff should be more than adept at getting everything out on time.

More positively, we did have a clear view of The Point's famed view over Albert Park Lake and back to the city. Our wine selections were also thoroughly enjoyable: an Italian and Spanish red respectively with the mains and a McWilliams botrytis and PX Cardenal with dessert.

www.thepointalbertpark.com.au

Laksa Me

16 Liverpool St; 03 9639 9885

Laksa Me opened to great acclaim just over a year ago. It's an excellent city lunchtime option. While you can spend more, a lot of their lunch options, including the laksas, are $10 or under. One menu item definitely worth digging around to find some extra change for is their Thai chilli calamari ($14) - strips are 'flame tossed' and served with chillies, roasted peanut, red capsicum, Thai chilli paste and soybean oil, accompanied by rice. It reads as well as it looks and tastes.

The lunch menu offers three laksas - a lemak with fish cake and dumplings, prawns and tofu; the 'skinny' laksa with mushroom, spinach, tofu and eggplant; and the signature My Mum's Laksa, with pho noodles, pork, chicken and prawns. I had the latter on my last visit and I think managed to score their one off-day in the kitchen! That presented a dilemma: ordering the same meal again seemed too narrow, but I was still keen to finally sample such a well-rated dish.

Compromise won the day, by going for a different type of broth dish. The duck broth wonton noodles comes as a steaming bowl of pork and prawn wontons in duck broth with choi sum (chinese cabbage), egg noodles and a side bowl of pickled green chillies.Although broth is water-based, when it's been well done - that is, started with quality ingredients and given time to cook properly - it gives the impression of being more of a soup, thick and rich with flavour. This duck broth had that quality and was not overly salty. The wontons looked like little comets, with 'ruffled' edges and long 'tails'. They were quite hefty and hard to miss (it's always nice to find an extra wonton at the bottom of the bowl!). As the chillies were served on the side the dish itself wasn't too hot, unlike other plates at the table, which came with sweat-inducing chilli levels. That reaction was probably exacerbated by our proximity to a powerful bar heater - concrete floors and plate glass windows do not a warm restaurant make, but no one wants to eat in a sauna.

One of the big talking points about Laksa Me when it opened was that it didn't have a wine list - owner Allen Woo insisted that beer was a better match for the type of food being served. And fair enough too, but from the presence of a wine list on our table it looks like enough diners didn't agree!

If a craving for any combination of chilli, soup or dumplings hits you while you're in the city, Laksa Me is handily placed, slightly south and east of centre, and offers high quality, well-priced 'modern Asian cuisine', filled with fresh ingredients rather than MSG.

www.laksame.com

Shanghai Village

112-4 Little Bourke St, CBD; (03) 9663 1878

The glory of yum cha is the chance to say to the waiter: 'I'll have that, and that, and that, and that...' and so on, giving one a feeling of decadence that lasts until the bill comes, when it is replaced by a feeling of satisfaction for wangling so much for so little. That satisfaction can veer close to smugness if, at Shanghai Village, you've also availed yourself of enough cups of free green tea from the communal urn at the front of the restaurant.

This restaurant suits the lackadaisical approach. The waitstaff are pretty casual - both in dress and attention to service. But that's OK because you know the food will be speedy and filling. While the dining area is hardly gawdy, the colours employed - on the bright pink feature wall or the disturbingly bright orange chopsticks - are certainly not casual.


The first dish to reach us was a chinese pancake.
It fared well with the addition of soy sauce. Looking a bit like a hollow omelet, and consisting of a very straightforward, fried batter, it served as a great raging-hunger-queller before we got into the meatier dishes.

There is no yum cha without pork buns, but this restaurant's offering are not the large sweet-doughed-savoury-filled variety. They're 'mini pork buns' and are more of a dumpling to be honest. The filling is quite respectable, but it's a shame not to have that unique casing, akin to a chewier, more floury meringue texture, to go with it.

Three spring rolls are suitably crisp, but their accompanying sauce - perhaps plum - is quite bland, and without a killer filling it leaves the dish as a bit rudimentary.
More exciting are the steamed beef dumplings. There's just so much meat and dough goodness on the plate! They are utterly impossible to eat with chopsticks: the dough slipping around and the globe of meat inside inevitably escaping to be eaten solo.

Overall the meal was entirely satisfying, particularly as we'd brought voracious appetites to the table. I left with a fairly voracious thirst however, which I doubt was entirely due to my liberal splashings of soy sauce, but rather to some heavy-handed salting in the kitchen.

Journal Cafe

253 Flinders Lane; 03 9650 4399

Enjoy playing with your food? At Journal cafe, a simple request for a pot of chai tea produces a tray's worth of gadgets to entertain. One can swirl the tea in its pot, infusing as much of the cardamon, clove, star anise and cinnamon flavour as possible into the milk. Rest the tea strainer over the tall, clear glass as you pour, then nestle it back into its holder. A pot of honey is provided for the drinker to manage the tea's sweetness at their discretion. There's an additional jug of milk, with a sprinkle of cinnamon on top, perhaps to top up the original pot, which is crammed with tea mix. It's a good chai mix; all the better for settling in with your gadgets at hand to savour a fine cup of tea.

Aloi Na

59-61 Hardware Lane, Melbourne; 03 9670 8889

Hardware Lane. It's a bit like the Lygon St tourist strip but for locals. Business workers inevitably wander through there in office hours, and during the day many of them sit down for steak/burger/focaccia and chips and, if their company is that way inclined, a wine or beer. Even when you're using it as a thoroughfare between Lonsdale and Little Bourke St, alone, clearly distracted and not by food, the spruikers endeavour to lure you in.

Having finished Happy Hour at Word Bar, however, Hardware Lane's proximity could not be ignored. We settled on a Thai dinner at Aloi Na, whose menu both comforted and disturbed me. Everything seemed extremely well-priced: a relief since it meant I could order more liberally, but also a concern, since we were in the dead middle of town and I expected to be overcharged.

We started with chicken satay sticks. I was hungry enough that when they arrived they didn't appear quite so sickly as they do in this photo!The satay sauce was acceptable: very creamy, and unctuous. The chicken was far too dry, however. Looking back on what we ordered, chicken was a prolific ingredient and the dryness featured throughout the meal.

Our second starter was tempura vegetables.Lovely presentation, and a nice light tempura batter. The curled eggplant wrapped around carrot and zucchini. The vegetables were a little bland, but the soy dipping sauce lifted the flavour.

I was particularly torn ordering my main. The restaurant offers a red duck curry for just $18.90. It met my craving, but what could I truly expect from such a dish at such a price? I went for the more generic green chicken curry.The clay pot actually came sat over a tea candle - another nice presentation feature. This dish had the best chicken of the night and generous pieces of zucchini, capsicum and carrot. The green curry sauce was, again, sufficient, but had no subtlety of spice to really lift it to a memorable dish.

Aesthetics seem important at this establishment. The chicken and cashew stir fry looks sensational:The chicken was dry and the sauce somewhat salty, however. The vegetables, on the other hand, were crisp and fresh and added a lot to the dish.

Similar reports came from the sweet and sour chicken.Nice colours again, and I like the battered chicken mixed in amongst the vegetables and sauce. The vegetables were the winner out of this dish, as well.

It is good to know that one can eat at a reasonable price amongst the schmaltz of Hardware Lane. The noodle dishes at Aloi Na, for example, are mainly around $13. The quality is about as exciting as the serving staff, however, who looked surprised every time they arrived at our table with a bowl of food. The restaurant also offers a modest, predictable and cheap selection of wines by the glass, as well as Chang beer for $6.

Stalactites

177-183 Lonsdale St, Melbourne; 03 9663 3316

When a restaurant's address covers four street numbers, you know you're dealing with an institution. And with interstate friends in town and a Comedy Festival show to catch, you know you can't go wrong settling in at Stalactites for a speedy serve of solid Greek food.

Stalactites has been around since the 70's. They are open 24 hours a day, seven days a week, and provide an important service to Melbourne, in that they offer decent takeaway souvlaki ($9) anytime the craving hits. (The souvlaki is also available on the restaurant menu.)

The dine-in menu is long, but as the cuisine on offer is so iconic, we all found it easy to simply hunt out our Hellenic dish of choice.

Both the chaps at dinner went for the mixed grill. And frankly, why wouldn't you? $22 gets you more ovine and cattle on a plate than most sensible people could eat in a sitting: marinated lamb skewer, marinated giro, lamb chop, rissole and sausage. And just to be sure you supplement all that protein with both salt and vegetables, the grill comes with chips and Greek salad.

The Greek staple, moussaka, is expectedly dense.The eggplant is baked almost to the colour of the mince, and they both support a thick layer of potato, which has soaked up the bechamel sauce. To add even more weight, the dish comes with rice and baked vegetables. It's incredibly filling and full of the flavours endemic to Greek cooking.

Having had just such a craving earlier in the day, I looked no further on the menu than the kalamari. The dish is a mixture of squid and octopus, so tentacled pieces nestle amongst tender squid strips. The flesh is a bit hit and miss: some pieces soft and biteable, others tougher. Some bore slightly too close a resemblance to the live animal, and hence were used only for portraiture, and spared the eating! The accompanying Greek salad was nicely dressed, with two token olives and a small wodge of fetta. Masterfoods tartare sauce accompanied the fish: not my first choice of dressing.

We also had a bottle of retsina. My only other experience with Greek table wine was on the island of Paros, demolishing a very cherry-ish bottle of red on the beach in between taking an inordinate number of photos of the sunset. Many, many moons ago, the Greeks sealed their wine vessels with pine resin, and although barrels and glass bottles now adequately perform the task of keeping air out, the resin flavour is still added to the wine. It was a bit of a shock! The flavour improved (ie settled) somewhat after the wine had sat in the glass for a while.

The Comedy Festival show was Daniel Kitson, a very funny and intelligent man, who I heartily suggest you check out.

www.stalactites.com.au

Lounge Bar

243 Swanston St, CBD; 03 9663 2916

Lounge is an excellent value stop-off in the middle of the city, particularly if you're after something other than noodles. Every day they offer a $10 lunch special, featuring a set dish and a glass of beer, wine or soft drink. During the week their lunch menu is augmented by various other $10 plates (sans drink).

Lounge is a well-integrated space, with the quirkily kitted-out bar and cafe downstairs - spherical drop lights weave through tree branches and 'flocked' isn't a strong enough adjective for the wallpaper - and a club upstairs. It also offers exhibition space and supports a record label and literary journal.

Our special of the day was a spicy beef salad.It came served on a mound of fresh and tangy vegetables, with olive tapenade dotted around the plate. It performed above expectation. For $10 I had no high hopes from the meat, but it was in fact quite tender and had been handled well to retain its tenderness in the warm salad. It was an amply sized serve as well.

SG's choice of chicken of chargrilled chicken breast didn't come off the specials menu.The serving was hefty, but the chicken meat was delicate. As if three chunks of chicken weren't enough, they rested upon a rosemary rosti. The carbohydrates were offset by a refreshing apple and avocado salsa. I agree, there are a lot of flavours going on here, but there are yet more to come. The white blob in the middle is a chorizo marscapone. It didn't compute for me on the menu, and it didn't blend well for me as a flavour combination either. That huge plate of meat, textures and taste experimentation was $17.50.

www.lounge.com.au

Wagamama

Level 2, QV Square (cnr Swanston and Lonsdale Sts); 03 9650 2325

It’s not breaking any new ground to eat at, or indeed review, a Wagamama restaurant. I did find our recent dining experience there interesting, however, for what it demonstrated about the food journey both the restaurant and I have travelled since we first became acquainted.

The first Wagamama I came across was in Covent Garden, London, and from that first encounter something in their cheeky menu and underground, brightly-lit space had big appeal. I ate there several times in London and Guildford. A few years ago Wagamama were ostensibly too mass-consumerist for my taste, with new restaurants popping up with the regularity of big-chain coffee houses. But their food was innovative, fresh and well-priced, commodities that are exceedingly hard to come by in England.

I’ve eaten there a couple of times in Australia and the biggest difference I’d noted was the absence of my favourite dish, the chicken chilli men: soft Hokkein noodles interlaced with diced chicken and crisp vegetables such as snow peas and capsicum, heightened by a good breath of chilli.

Before ordering on our most recent visit, SG did question whether I’d be alright, ‘eating at a franchise’. I assured him I’d be fine: I’d eaten here loads of time, always enjoyed it and had made my way through most of the menu, from ramen to yaki soba to the katsu curry, both vegetarian and meat.

First to the table was a tray of five duck gyoza, with a very thick, sticky soy sauce.
The filling was lovely: lightly steamed meat and some spring onion crunch. The pastry, however, was very poor: more like a biscuit, crunchy and noticeably browned.

SG stuck with his staple, the chicken ramen.
A relatively clear broth, plenty of sliced chicken, stocky noodles and some green for roughage. It's a heartening dish, but...I'll come back to that.

I went with a new dish, the spicy chicken itame, with mint, basil, coriander and garlic.The chicken had wallowed in ginger and the red onion lent a caramelised flavour to the rice. It looked a treat in the bowl, with chunky zucchini and broccoli pieces crowning the rice. (And it was hot, more than could be said for our green tea). The chicken, however, was far too dry. The dish was seriously spicy; probably not too hot for a real chilli lover, but significantly spicier than anything I’d experienced at Wagamamas before. Although the vegetables had looked impressive and abundant, there were serious filling-to-rice ratio issues: the former ran out long before the latter.

While Wagamama may not quite be soul food, they have always preached a vibrant and positive food philosophy. These dishes didn't give me a good food buzz though, nor did the service. After eating I felt uncomfortably full, overly salted and like I’d eaten…well, franchise food. The ramen was perfectly adequate, but I don't necessarily want a dish I haven't tried for a couple of years to taste exactly like it did last time I had it, especially when that last time was in a different country!

I don’t know if it’s just that my tastes have changed and refined, or if in keeping Wagamama afloat they’ve started to cut a lot more corners in the kitchen. Certainly the company had to close down its St Kilda store last year, not that long after opening in Melbourne Central. Their expansion into Australia has never been as rampant as it was in Europe. When you’ve got Don Don across the road doing wok-to-bowl food for $6, and Cookie down the street serving up very credible curry, you need more than cute branding to keep it pumping.

The Press Club

72 Flinders St, CBD; 03 9677 9677

George Calombaris has had nothing but praise and accolades since opening The Press Club in 2006. The menu is modern Greek, taking traditional ingredients and flavours of his home country but serving them in an updated style that is unique, even in this most Hellenic of cities. Where innovation is the key word in the kitchen, flexibility takes charge on the menu and in the overall setup. The venue includes a restaurant, private function room and bar. In the restaurant, diners have the choice of a la carte, kerasma - a Greek style of sharing menu - or degustation. Before being faced with that range of options, however, there is also the choice to turn right rather than left after stepping into the foyer of the former Herald building, and instead select the smaller, cheaper Bar.

The bar menu is as user-friendly as the restaurant's is expansive. The 20 or so dishes are grouped as one of three types of mezedes (which are suggested as accompaniments to wine, beer or ouzo) larger dishes or glyka (desserts). A refined list of wines by the glass is included on the bar menu, although behind the counter an enormous range of beers, spirits, ouzo and wines (including several Greek varieties) awaits. We drank a crisp, appley Chapel Hill 'Il Vescovo' Pinot Grigio at $9 a glass.

Of the 11 larger dishes on offer, I think all three of us could happily have ordered any one. Tempting as it was to sample Calombaris' take on some Greek favourites, neither the open souvlaki of the day, nor the calamari got an invite to our table. We were determined, however, that the Greek 'Parma' should get a run.Tender thigh meat, in lightly-seasoned crumb, was topped with zucchini and eggplant. Kefalograviera cheese is melted on top, giving the dish a robust saltiness, which allowed the schnitzel to be more delicately flavoured than in a more pub-style parma. It comes with fresh lemon potato.

A salad of cucumber and braised lamb perches on a bed of (lightly) minted yoghurt.The lamb neck was charred on the outside but pink and moist inside. It is perhaps one of the more traditionally Greek dishes on the menu: the triumverate of Greek flavours enhanced simply through freshness, rather than added flair.

The dark horse of the night was the pumpkin and almond bougatsa, with Byzantine grape dressing.Bougatsa is normally a sweet dish of custard served in filo pastry. Here, the custard was replaced with mashed pumpkin in a bechamel sauce, dotted with slivers of almond and a smattering of fennel. A sprinkling of icing sugar nodded to the dish's more traditional incarnation.

The bar menu is an excellent way to introduce yourself to the fine dining of The Press Club, whether you're yet to sample the main restaurant because you're short on money, or time (it's currently booked out 2 weeks in advance, up to a month on weekends). It is a bar, however: a little crowded, with lots of suits sampling the multinational drinks menu and a plasma TV in one corner. Some exact calculations have been done to match the accessible dish prices with their size: they are not stingy, but the focus is very much on quality rather than quantity, which I think is a reasonable decision when it allows you to sample The Age's Chef of the Year for as little as $15 a dish.

www.thepressclub.com.au

Mark's Pizza

Corner of Grattan and Swanston Sts; 03 9347 0474

Mark's is a great option for a cheap feed, close to the CBD. Most of the pizzas are around $8-9 for a medium size (example below). There's a set menu of course (with selected extras, including chilli and parmesan, at no extra charge), the option to create your own, as well as blackboard specials. The set menu is quite generic - margherita, capricciosa, that curious entity that is the 'Aussie' pizza - but the specials branch out a lot more, with options such as tangy satay chicken. There is also a limited range of pasta dishes, and gelato is available for dessert. The wine list is brief and cheap - mainly Rosemount and Lindeman style wines.

The pizzas have quite a thick base, which was a little on the doughy side. It could just be because I'm so used to the thinner style, but with the cheese cooked almost to crispiness, it was a bit of an inbalance. The toppings are generous, but the heavier dough overwhelms them a bit so each doesn't stand out individually. Regardless, the pizzas are freshly and attentively made; are far, far superior to franchise pizza; and they are served by genuinely cheery staff.

www.marksplace.com.au

il Nostro Posto

60 Hardware Lane, Melbourne; 03 9670 9939

Hardware Lane is an unusual part of Melbourne. Diners accustomed to blithely opening unmarked doors, scurrying down hidden staircases and striding fearlessly along laneways to reach fabled restaraunts are, in this part of town, suddenly confronted by maitre d's making themselves, and the restuarant, as conspicuous as possible. There are some pretty extensive menus being proffered, but we elected to go with a restaurant that, with a more succinct menu, could perhaps dedicate themselves to turning out a selection of very good dishes, rather than pages' worth of OK ones.

Housed in an old warehouse, il Nostro Posto aims for an authentic trattoria feel: framed 'Roman Holiday' prints on the wall; banter in Italian between the staff; and a specials board with Fileto di Manzo and Cotoletta di Vitello. Something in the bright lighting, or the dark wood finish meant the effect didn't quite hit the mark for me.

The wine list is certainly a helper towards the authentic Italian vibe. On our waiter's advice we drank a newly-arrived Sicilian white from the Rallo vineyard. Very dry mouth feel, but with an equally fruity palate.

My main was risotto di carciofi e prosciutto, interestingly presented:


After my recent wranglings with whole artichokes I had great admiration for this well-sized, entirely intact and deliciously steamed/boiled specimen. I was also able to mix the leaves in or savour their nutty flavour alone as it pleased me. The risotto had good consistency and wasn't over-salted. I'd seen a cook carrying tubs of stock through the restaurant, which in my imagination had been ladled out of an ancient, hundred-litre bubbling copper vat in the cellar!

The 'burning finger' lamb cutlets are named from the Italian term indicating that they're eaten hot from the pan with your hands.
Again, very visually pleasing. The lamb was thick- cut and well-cooked - juicy pink in the middle. Crisp beans, creamy mash and plenty of soaking gravy...our location may not have epitomised Melbourne but the weather, which had dropped 15 or so degrees in the day and brought plenty of cold rain, certainly did and this dish - part BBQ favourite, part winter-warmer - fitted the conditions perfectly.

Dessert featured a housemade tiramisu, a dish in which the total should be greater than the sum of its parts. The parts were fine: rich cream, studded with coffee beans, and lots of moist sponge fingers. Unfortunately most of the coffee drenching had dropped to the bottom of the cup, so it was a bit like attacking a drink that you haven't stirred with spoon, and hitting all the gunk at the bottom. Regardless, it was undoubtedly fresh and very enjoyable.Lastly, a picture-perfect fruits of the forest semi-freddo brought together sweet and creamy wedges with a delightfully tart coulis - sensational flavour combinations.

Espressino

50 Lonsdale St, City; 03 9662 3334

This coffee and snack experience is entirely owing to Mellie at tummy rumbles, who has an extensive and glowing post dedicated to the team at Espressino, augmented by comments from her many friends who have been inspired to check it out!

It was the perfect place for me to delve back into the Melbourne dining scene post-Europe. While the kitout of Espressino is very muchly in the minimalist, modern café style, the food and the service are much more Italian trattoria. On the day I visited, I had intended to grab a mid-morning snack, but what with jetlag keeping me in bed longer than expected, I hit a be-suited lunch rush. Every table taken, people queuing to order, waiting for takeaways, yet my coffee was still delivered by the ‘hunky Italian specimen’, as Mel so accurately describes him, with a decidedly cheery ‘here you go bella’.

I was there to sample the excellent coffee – rich, perfectly roasted, sweet not bitter – and the bombolone. Mmm, nutella and custard. Just three days previously I’d had a free ‘breakfast’ at a hostel in Rome, which had consisted of chocolate croissant and orange cordial. The croissant was a baked-by-the-thousand piece of pastry, with a huge wodge of nutella squirted in the middle. This bombolone, by contrast, was delicate, sugared dough surrounding a creamy chocolate custard filling, that was neither too sweet nor rich, but served perfectly for, um, lunch!

(Note, to get there, head down Madame Brussels Lane, next to the office building at 50 Lonsdale St)

Mrs Parmas

25 Little Bourke St; 03 9639 2269

I’d seen mention of Mrs Parmas in Dishlicious in the A2 – as a pub in Little Collins St specialising in parmigianas - and was reminded of it at Wicked Sunday (that delectable new feature of the Melb Food and Wine Festival), where they had a stand as part of the Microbrewery gallery.

Why did a parma restaurant have a stand amongst Victoria’s microbreweries? Because in addition to serving up Melbourne’s most gourmet version of the traditional pub treat, it is also an all-Victorian bar, selling a range of locally brewed beers on tap and by the bottle – a very commendable policy indeed.

Firstly to the food. Any couples dining on a small appetite should definitely order one to share – these parmas are HUGE. And not huge in that ‘oh my god, there is so much saturated fat and questionable meat product on my plate I’d best drink more so it becomes more appealing’ kind of way. All their parmas are made fresh, the sauces are homemade, and you know you’re consuming quality produce.

Our topping selections were the Original (ham, cheese, napoli sauce) and Matriciana (olives, chilli (undetectable), cheese, napoli sauce). While beaten thin to schnitzel thickness, the chicken was still substantial, and the ratio of meat to crumb was much better than some more questionable schnitzels I’ve eaten. The sauce had a real tomato kick, not over oiled, and the olives added a great saltiness. There are about 10 toppings to choose from, all available with either chicken ($18.50), veal ($22.50) or eggplant ($16.50). Being quality conscious as they are, Mrs Parma also offers gluten and egg free pastas. There are also a small range of steak and seafood dining options.

And now to the beers. We first sampled Gippsland Gold and Grand Ridge Pilsener, and couldn’t go past them for the second round. Both were delicious. The Gippsland Gold was an almost bright yellow, with a citrus crispness. Very refreshing to drink, but still with a full flavour. The Pilsener was darker, with a malty taste that almost made it caramelly. Both are now on our list to have in the house. The bar also serves beers from CBD breweries such as Three Ravens, plus Holgate in Woodend and others from around the state. There are half a dozen each well-priced red and white wines available, though I was surprised they didn’t go all-Victorian on those as well.

Grossi Florentino

80 Bourke St, Melbourne; 03 9662 1811

From all reports, one hasn’t dined in Melbourne until they’ve dined at Grossi Florentino. This notion is helped by the fact that the Florentino provides three levels of dining experience - the Restaurant ($155 food and coffee), the Grill (mains $28-$35) and the Cellar Bar (under $20).

The best value is reserved for the pre-theatre menu at the Grill, if you don’t mind eating between 6-7:30pm: 2 courses, plus a glass of wine and coffee, for $30. The great price still seats you at a table with linen tablecloth and napkins and quality glassware. The early time also means a ratio of serving staff to customers of almost 1:1. Service was at times too efficient, with a couple of conversations interrupted by offers to refill wine glasses (though at only $5 for truly good Willowglen 2005 Semillon Chardonnay or Shiraz Cabernet one shouldn’t say no).

The good thing about this theatre menu is that it doesn’t skimp on the extras. Diners are greeted with warmed black olives and a hefty sourdough. The set menu comprises three entrees, mains and dessert. Serving sizes are generous. The spaghetti with swordfish in tomato ragu has the complexity of a marinara, without being ’seafoody’. A hunk of pork and chicken terrine is another entree option. The Pollo al Forno featured pieces of dense chicken, on a bed of polenta swimming in a winey stock. This dish was also a great match with the white wine on offer. Steak or floured trevally with cold potatoes make up the other mains on offer.
Even if you’ve left yourself without dessert as an option, the coffee included in the price is so good it makes up for lack of a sweet plate.

www.grossiflorentino.com

Decoy

308 Flinders Lane, Melbourne; 03 9620 7122

Flinders Lane is a competitive place, and a restaurant with only five tables occupied at 7pm on a Friday is perhaps not a great advertisement. But the menu options and prices from Decoy were right, so we were happy to take the punt. It’s an appealing room, with chocolate brown furnishings and exposed steel beams on the high ceilings. The walls feature long mirrors and elongated artworks.

The menu is succinct, with six pizzas, priced between $15.50 and $18.50 and a selection of mains ranging from Thai fish cakes or shredded chicken for $16.90, to steak of the day (eye fillet with rice and blackbean sauce) for $24.50. The wine list is similarly concise, and nearly all are offered by the glass from $6.50 to $8.50. If you’re celebrating they offer a 200ml bottle of sparkling for $8.00.

We didn’t have a lot of time to peruse our surroundings between ordering and the food arriving. As I had ordered the risotto (pumpkin and spinach with marcarpone and pinenuts) I would have been quite happy to wait longer. The mascarpone was generously dolloped on top for stirring in. The rice was tender and the dish neither too creamy or oily. The flavour of the diced pumpkin really stood out, but overall the dish had no depth or subtlety of herbs. My dining partner had the spicy salami, roasted capsicum and fior di latte pizza. The salami had some heat, and the fior di latte was a noticeable flavour change from the standard mozzarella, but again the dish overall felt one dimensional.

We enquired as to dessert options, which were limited to what was still in the display cabinets - eg sticky date pudding or mudcake (the dessert menu outside advertised various other options). Rather than being restrictive, this perhaps reflected the fact that this is predominantly a lunchtime laneway eatery with decent coffee, which has only recently extended into opening evenings.

The Deanery

13 Bligh Pl (off Flinders Lane); 03 9629 5599

Some different fare for us on this dining occasion. A generous relative, and his even more generous financial employer (trust me, I have no qualms taking a good meal off one of those evils!) made us happy to settle into the Deanery restaurant, rather than settle for bar snacks and a couple of beers (mind you, the bar food looked none too shabby either). The Deanery restaurant is more cellary than Deanery - low ceilings, ruby-brown and beige walls, and a room-length window separating diners from the rent-a-space wine cellar.

The mainly Moroccan-style menu is extremely approachable - one page, of around ten each of entrees and mains. And they all look fabulous. The food menu is contrasted with the wine ‘book’, with a full page of wines by the glass, and those by the bottle priced from $25-$1000. We settled on a 2005 Brokenwood Semillon for $35. Were we having entrees as well as mains, I couldn’t have gone past the slow roast lamb with dukkah crust, green olive tapenade and parsnip whip.

My main of king prawns in chickpea batter, with lentil tabouleh and feta looked a little insignificant on arrival, in comparison with the pork belly with cannellini beans and mustard labne; and the Porterhouse steak with parmesan polenta and porcini relish. However, the very fleshy prawns and legume accompaniment proved equally filling. The light batter was almost fizzy on the tongue, and the feta was a great complement - lending both saltiness and creaminess to the prawn flesh.

With the exception of the chocolate petit pots, all the desserts feature fruit. We shared a pear and apple crumble, with wonderul nutty ice cream, and indulged in some dessert wines, conveniently offered by the glass alongside the desserts.

Our empty plates testified to the quality of the food, but what also impressed me was that I came away with lots of cooking ideas - they weren’t off-puttingly complicated choices, instead just tempting combinations of tastes and ingredients.

http://www.thedeanery.com.au/