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.

Cafe Bedda

242 High St, Northcote; 03 9482 9420

It's no secret that Melbourne's inner northern suburbs boast higher-than-average densities of restaurants and Italians. Coincidence? I think not. But with pizza and pasta lording it over noodles and cous cous, what does an Italian restaurateur do to make their trattoria top of the list?

Cafe Bedda's first point of difference is to raise the flag of a particular Italian region: the dishes and wines at this High St eatery are distinctly Sicilian. Secondly, its menu reveals neither a pizzeria with some OK pasta dishes, nor an exhaustive examination of Italian pasta and sauces with some mediocre pizzas on the back page. Bedda offers a reasonable selection of both.

On two trips to Bedda, the seasonal specials have impressed. Tonight liver was on the menu as a main, but, tempting as it sounded, when one goes out for pizza there's an imperative to stick with pizza (rather like not ordering orange juice when you 'go out for coffee'). The carciofi entree special, however, was a suitable preamble: a whole artichoke stuffed with breadcrumbs, parmagiano and herbs, eaten rustic-style by plucking out the leaves and scraping off the nutty flesh with your teeth.
Bedda's renowned pizzas are prepared amidships in a modern-looking, double-decker oven emitting a greenish glow from its halogen elements. While the chicory and lemon pizza features in most Bedda reviews, the pizza of choice tonight was the Otto: tomato, pancetta, caramelised onion, cayenne pepper, garlic, olives and parmagiano. Quite a list! Regardless, the toppings were delicate enough for Bedda's super-thin crust to handle. Bedda's style is not to lay on the stringy cheese: the tomato base is far more crucial for holding the ingredients together and the parmagiano adds more tang than tension. Caramelised onion provided a wonderfully sweet offset to the salty pancetta. A rogue pepper seed cropped up on the last bite, turning what had been a pleasant spark of warmth to an unexpected fire. Time for another glass of nero d'avola to quench the heat!

There's a lovely atmosphere to Cafe Bedda: the checked, tiled floor keeps things feeling busy, even when it's not full; while the dark wood furniture minimises the visual assault. It's big enough that large groups can be sat away from quieter couples, but small enough that several tables can watch the pizzaiolo in action. The density of Italian restaurants may be high in this area, but this one is better than average.

Mao's

263 Brunswick St, Fitzroy; 03 9419 1919

The visual impact of this Brunswick Streeter is immediate and effecting. At the same time, however, it seems muted and perfectly suited. That's why architectural firm Six Degrees has the reputation it does for creating memorable and inspired spaces. The restaurant feels undoubtedly Chinese: its namesake adorns the wall in a vivid portrait, tea-sets sit atop partitions between the tables, and the cushioned bench seat is embroidered with Chinese characters - but this is no Chinese takeaway.

The sweet and sour pork and honey lemon chicken familiar to suburban Chinese diners the western world over is Cantonese cuisine. At Mao's, the regional fare on offer is Hunanese. Seafood features strongly on the menu, as do pork and duck. Eggplant seems to be the vegetable of choice for the dishes sans meat.

Our vegetarian selection, however, was limited to spring rolls. The entree consists of two pieces, but they are of a size that makes them worth at least double the smaller variety (compare a recent serve at Thaila Thai). I liked that you could see the pointy end of the (presumably very recently) rolled wrapper. There was no wasted space inside: each roll was dense with Chinese mushrooms, cabbage, sweet potato (noted as 'yam' on the menu) and vegetables, which meant you hit the peppery filling as the flaky pastry dissolved on your tongue. The accompanying soy sauce was gratifyingly thick and clung to the rolls.

Four pieces of spicy calamari arrived atop sliced chillies, onions and mixed lettuce leaves. The calamari meat was wonderfully firm. The batter was quite a thick, crispy one; I prefer calamari in a lighter batter, but on this occasion it filled out the entree very well.

The seafood section of the menu looked very promising, and it supplied my choice of main: claypot king prawns with shallots, garlic, cinnamon and nutmeg. Shallots and garlic are common ingredients in Hunanese cooking, and they were prominent in this dish too: alongside jumbo prawns came quarter and half cloves of garlic. I love the stuff enough to always be happy to be able to see it in a dish! There were at least five king prawns, unshelled and (in at least one instance) unveined; so it was messy-finger time. The menu mentioned 'a touch' of cinnamon and nutmeg, and these sweeter spices certainly didn't imprint on the dish too strongly.

Why go past a dish described on the menu as Chairman Mao's favourite, in a restaurant bearing his name and in which he smiles benificently at diners from the wall? (Dictators were a theme of the night, as I later found myself under Stalin's rather sterner gaze at Bar Open.) Hunan-style pork features a pot of chopped rib pieces with a glistening, thick sauce of dark soy, flavoured with garlic and star anise. Not surprisingly, the pork pieces were quite fatty but the dish fell short of being sickly sweet. There are some vegetables hiding under all that pork, their crispiness a nice counter to the tender meat.

Overall, the flavours were pleasant and present; by which I mean, although my prawns came with spears of spring onion and visible garlic, and the calamari was sitting on big pieces of chopped chilli, none of those accompaniments overpowered anything. Just as the fitout was both familiar and unusual, this outcome was welcome and surprising: I wouldn't have wanted to come out with a numb mouth, carrying too strong a scent of any of the onion family members, but then again one would have expected more flavour bursts from such striking ingredients. That's not a criticism: I thoroughly enjoyed the balance of each dish, perhaps helped by the fact that Hunanese cooking often involves steaming, adding visual colour to dishes; and avoiding the overwhelming, oily glugginess that can make a lesser Chinese takeaway a regrettable choice. No such regrets here!

Natalia's Greek Cuisine

437 High St, Northcote; 03 9486 3110

Sitting within Natalia's blue-and-white interior feels a little like being underwater; it certainly doesn't sound like it though, as chatter from the predominantly Greek crowd competes with the live bouzouki music.

This is not a restaurant for vegetarians: the menu is divided in entrees (all seafood), appetisers (some of which are meat free), seafood and mains, all of which are meat based. While the $20+ price tag on most of the mains seemed a little high, it was offset somewhat by complimentary additions to the meal and the size of the portions (though surely it's preferable to have the option to be served less and pay less). A banquet is also available for $39 per head.

First to the table were two huge baskets of bread. It smelled wonderful and while it was a little too loafy to be an ideal meal accompaniment it's impressive to know that it's made on site. The bread came with our first appetiser, melinzanosalata (try getting that out correctly first time!), an earthy-green blend of eggplant, capsicum, garlic and olives. Alongside came a triangle of grilled saganaki, wonderfully firm and salty, with the centre just slightly melted.
A main serve of deep-fried calamari was ordered as a joint entree for four. The calamari had been properly cooked, retaining texture without being rubbery, and had just the right amount of batter. For $22, however, one might expect a few more rings, the bonus to the right of the plate notwithstanding - a scallop a la Natalia, served with worcestershire sauce, spring onion and bacon. Where the calamari had been so simply adorned, however, this dressing rather overwhelmed the mollusc.

And so to the meat. For the men, a meat platter for two; for the ladies, two plates of kleftiko: lamb and chicken cooked over charcoals.
Firstly, to the positives. All the types of meat had been cared for: lamb and chicken were decadently oily and as the diced pieces dissolved in the mouth they released loads of flavour. The potatoes that accompanied the meat were superb: laden with herbs, salt and oil and still soft and fluffy; a plate of potatoes plus the calamari would have made for a satisfying repast. The skewered meat on the meat platter was particularly enjoyable and there was certainly an ample quantity.

There were also some negatives, however. Both plates of kleftiko arrived not cold, but tepid at best. These were willingly replaced. The cutlets on the meat platter were a little dry, though with so much carnivorous material to choose from this was not a big issue. A massive bowl of Greek salad, at $6, represented excellent value for quantity. The quality wasn't quite so impressive, however, as it mainly featured lettuce and an acidic dressing, with a smattering of feta and the occasional olive.

Nevertheless, more positive was to come. Once the main dishes had been cleared, after all best efforts had been made to do justice to the portions, an unbidden, but very welcome, dessert arrived. Watermelon was the perfect antidote to all that carb and protein, but the sweet tooth was also sated, with the provision of gooey cigarillos of baklava.

The restaurant offers the welcome mix of being BYO, with no corkage, and licenced (and they stock Mythos beer, very handy for pretending one has escaped to the Mediterranean). The service was more comfortable amongst the Greek speakers, but it was attentive and friendly. Despite a couple of communication issues the staff strove to accommodate our requests (though the plan for a three-stage meal was scuppered with the concurrent arrival of calamari and meat), and while it was peculiar that spit roast meat could arrive at the table less than piping hot, they were sincere in rectifying the problem.

Thaila Thai II

82 Lygon St, Brunswick East; 03 9387 0659

It's on its way to institution status, this Lygon St restaurant known for the size of its portions (let's just say platter is a better description than plate), value for money and the queues of eager patrons waiting for tables or takeaway. When you can snag a table, you'll find yourself seated at and on plastic and in a hubbub of noise, from echoing conversations to the crash and bang of the open kitchen. Not to mention, more often than not, a haze of steam and smoke, pushed into the eating area from the open front door.

It's worth noting that Thaila Thai has now introduced a minimum charge per person. At $11.50 per head, gone are the days of $16 dinner for two, with entree, main and corkage. They're happy to pack up leftovers though, so order up and relive the flavour for lunch the next day.

Thaila Thai invites patrons to build their own stir fries: choose your meat (or tofu or seafood) and sauce and they'll throw in seasonal vegetables. At a warmer time of year these included crisp asparagus; now that the weather has cooled sweet mushy pumpkin features.
The tom yaam and tom kha soups are extraordinary value at $5. Rather than the teacup-sized portion you might expect from other restaurants for that price, here the tom kha is a brimming bowl filled with rich, coconuty, lemony broth. Massive pieces of vegetable - carrot, capsicum, bok choy - sit in the liquid, too big to float, along with chunky strips of firm tofu. The chilli metre is spot on - enough to reach for your serviette, but not too much so as to overpower the herbed broth.
A serve of vegetable spring rolls, ordered to round up the bill to the minimum charge, were less inspiring. Six small rolls came with a particularly uninspiring, watery sauce. The rolls were better embellished when dipped into the tom kha.

Corkage is fifty cents, and the Quarry bottle shop is just across the road. If that's not a value dinner I don't know what is.

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.

Satay Anika

140 Lygon St, Brunswick East; 03 9380 9702

There are a considerable number of Asian-food restaurants along the Brunswick stretch of Lygon St. Gingerlee, the Alderman and Rumi might be getting all the press, but Thaila Thai and Kake di Hatti are serving up crazily well-priced meals, and on the other side of the road Singhs and My2K, to name but two, go big on dining space and menu choice.

Amongst all of this is Satay Anika, a Malaysian restaurant. In the middle is a fitting place to be: Malay food takes a mix of Indian, Chinese and Singaporean cuisine to create its own strand of spiced dishes and sauces.

The eat-in menu here doesn't extrapolate much on the dishes (the takeaway menu is more informative), but help is at hand from the floor staff (the chef gets out and serves as well so there's plenty of information available). An entree of plump vegetarian spring rolls was increased to four portions from the normal three, so that we could have two each. The rolls were super hot and crispy and came with an acceptable plum sauce.
Although not elaborated on the menu, our effusive waiter informed us that the Anika chicken involved deep fried chicken pieces with a plum sauce. Which it did - certainly no artifice in description but some veg would have been a welcome distraction in addition to the sesame seeds. It delievered more than expected, however. The batter was thick and crunchy and teamed up happily with the sweet, sticky plum sauce.
Char kuey teow, a Malaysian favourite, had a longer ingredients list. Wide rice noodles coiled amongst baby prawns, beef, egg, tofu and bean sprouts, along with a mixture of oyster, mushroom and kecap manis sauces. It was a satisfying meal, but again, some wok-fried capsicum or baby corn - something adding colour to the dish as well as flavour and texture - would have lifted it further.

Serving sizes weren't huge, and with the WYSIWYG approach to assembling the dishes I felt slightly let-down. The high turnover of takeaways on this Friday night and the steady filling of the small dining space, however, demonstrated that straightforward and reliable meals are often just the ticket to bring in the locals. The service is extremely friendly and welcoming and it's a comfortable setting in which to eat. The quality of the food is fine and the prices are more than acceptable: most of the menu standards hover around the $12 mark.

Markov Place

350 Drummond St, Carlton; 03 9347 7113

A laneway entrance; leather banquette seating interspersed with tall tables and bar stools; giant-size posters spruiking revolutions; Melbourne's funkiest light fittings (large, rectangular shades pasted with newspaper cuttings); and extremely fine food and wine service. Carlton's Markov Place has got it going on.

The bar/restaurant is a cross between a gallery and a cellar: it's only one room, so the whole atmosphere, in part set by the poster'art around the walls, is appreciable in the way of a suburban artspace. The tall ceilings and stone floor, as well as the fact that it's downstairs from the adjoining (recommended) cleanskin shop that faces onto Drummond St, gives its patrons the feeling of being underground.

Amongst all that atmosphere is the chance to sample a succinct, thoughtful menu and a very sophisticated drinks list. The menu extends from sides such as fries and aioli for $8, through to snacks around the $15 mark and mains in the mid-$20s. Late on a Friday, our order, to share, served our post-pub pre-gig hunger well: aforementioned stringy fries with a serviceable aioli; pan-fried scallops with chorizo, lemon thyme and chilli, served on sourdough bread; and autumn mushroom bruschetta with manchego.

The scallop and chorizo dish was every bit as good as its description sounded. The bread - soft and pliant in the extreme, with a knife-challenging crust - could only have been made that morning. It soaked up the oil running from the sliced chorizo and bulked up each bite of scallop, an annoyingly bite-sized type of seafood (in that it tends to disappear all too quickly!)

The mushroom bruschetta was a triumph - a mound of seasonal fungi spilling off yet more sourdough (we'd had two complimentary slices with oil as well), out of which also tumbled some spinach. Slippery jack, shiitake, swiss brown and pine mushrooms had all soaked up a generous amount of oil and butter and the variety lent a wonderful delicacy to the flavour, set off by the creamy Spanish cheese.

Along with the food menu came a list of today's drink specials. Conveniently divided into 'before', 'during' and 'after', they offered an intriguing diversion from the usual. Cocktails are all too often out of reach of the frugal consumer, but many of these drink specials were well under $10. While a mojito with vanilla and aniseed was hard to turn down, a mix of cachaça, ginger, lime and chilli won the day. Each ingredient was immediately distinguishable in every mouthful, yet at the same time it delivered one, united flavour.

Particular notice needs to be made of the service at Markov Place. The waitstaff were knowledgeable, friendly and interested. They were keen to talk about the specials and offer recommendations. Not long after we'd been served a waiter came over to let us know the kitchen was closing in five minutes and ask if we wanted any more food or desserts - it wasn't pushy, only helpful. A curious inquiry as to the range of mushrooms had the waiter, unprecedently, offering of his free will to check the list with the kitchen. They were receptive to feedback and generally looked happy to be there; as were we.

www.markov.com.au

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

Tiamo 2

303-5 Lygon St, Carlton; 03 9347 0911

Tiamo 2 has recently undergone an extensive renovation and their downstairs dining area is now a lot more spacious, in the main part due to the fact that they have taken over the shop space next door. While a range of antipasto is still on display, diners no longer have to squeeze quite so tightly behind its late-night perusers to get to a table. The new interior features a lot of dark wood and red tones - the red being mainly employed in the various subtle ways they have incorporated their heart logo into the fitout.

They've refined the choice of main dishes, but also now have a dedicated pizza-making area in the reclaimed space. There were some tempting pizza specials on offer, but it's a dish that had featured a few too many times in recent days to make it feel 'special' enough to order. Instead maccheroni della zia got the nod: pasta with mini meatballs, eggplant, napoli sauce & basil. The eggplant was not a particularly strong presence; the napoli sauce was delicate and clung to the pasta, which I was particularly impressed with.
A quick aside: For any pasta afficionados amongst the readers, would you agree it's fair to say that 'maccherone' refers to any small tubular pasta, and that food cultures outside Italy have popularised one particular form - elbow maccheroni - as part of the dish maccaroni and cheese?)

The basil and meatballs partnered one another well, the sweetness of the herb contrasting against the slightly peppery rounds of meat. It's always pleasant to experience a carb-and-meat dish that doesn't sit too heavily.

SG's choice was the chicken florentino special.Fillets of chicken, bracketed by bacon, had been rolled around ricotta and spinach and baked in a white wine sauce. The chicken had retained plenty of moisture, so was quite succulent and against the softness of the cheese and saltiness of the bacon a mouthful became quite decadent. It was accompanied by a fine range of al dente vegetables and some suitably oily, seasoned sliced potatoes.

We experienced very helpful service, the staff perhaps being spurred on to offer friendliness to the diners by the fact that there was quite a loud, vocal, bell-slamming conflict going on between them and the kitchen staff! One minor point: the restaurant also features an interesting toilet arrangement - one door, three cubicles, two marked for women and one for men.

Sigiri

338 High St, Northcote; 03 9482 6114

The Yak was too full to squeeze in two more momo-hunting dinner goers. Just a few doors up the road is Sigiri, whose vacant tables and relatively calmer atmosphere (in comparison to not just Wild Yak but much of High St that night) lured us in. Part of its calm atmosphere was created by notably muted lighting, much of which seeped through red light shades, conditions that were well beyond standard-issue camera equipment. Since it was Eurovision Weekend, however, I've dotted the post with pictures of some of the acts instead :)

Sigiri have an interesting set-up. Each night they run a buffet for $25 per head ($22 on Thursday). This features two entrees (eg crumbed tuna and potato balls), beef, chicken and vegetable curries, side dishes, at least half a dozen types of bread, including hoppers, and dessert. Customers can also dine a-la-carte, though on this Saturday night it was off a limited selection of the normal menu.

Some menu items, including the stir fries (baduma) would take a while to cook, and I was on my way to a movie ('Pudor', at the Spanish Film Festival) so we went with two very straightforward dishes: harakmas (seasoned beef in curry sauce) and kukulmas (boneless chicken in spicy sauce) and a serve of eddi appa, or 'string hoppers'. These are made from a combination of rice flour, water and salt, which is forced through a mould to create the squiggly, latticed effect.

In some ways a combination of the two choices would have made a great dish. The chicken meat was tender and swimming in sauce, whereas the beef was a little (only a little) tough and the dish could have used some more moisture overall. The texture of both sauces seemed to borrow from a gravy style, in that they were somewhat grainy. The beef curry sauce was loaded with cardamon, and the chicken sauce was strongly spiced without being too hot. Neither, happily, seemed overloaded with oil or ghee so while we were both quite full without finishing our serves, it wasn't an uncomfortably heavy feeling.

Pizza Farro III

608 High St, Thornbury; 03 9484 2040

Pizza Farro is rightly renowned for its spelt-based pizzas and on our most recent visit I'd had every intention of furthering my acquaintance with their selection. While browsing the pasta specials, however, the combination of pumpkin, spinach, pine nuts and ricotta became too tempting to forego. Nor would I forego spelt by choosing this option, as it's also the grain of choice for their pastas.

Pizza Farro isn't the cheapest eatery around - in most sections of their menu dishes start from around $18, travelling up to $23 or so for those with finer ingredients - but their produce is high quality, their cooking well-considered and their serving sizes ample. Their pizzas only come in one size, but it's a large one. The pasta alla zucca is similarly generous:The generosity extends to flavour. The cubed pumpkin is at a stage of mushiness that leaves it at the whim of your fork: pierce to pick up whole, or squash to dissolve. The ricotta, by comparison, holds its firmness; the pinenuts as always bring the crunch and the spinach some coarseness. The spelt pasta, too, brings a subtle distinction to the dish: matched with the pinenuts its hint of nuttiness lifts the flavour.

SG also managed to wrest his tastebuds from the salsicce pizza of our last visit. He's not one to stray too far from the pork, however, and selects the calzone with napoli, bocconcini, spicy pork sausage, mushrooms and, wait for it, truffle oil. The combination of field mushrooms and truffle gives a wonderful earthiness to balance the spicy sausage. Some mouthfuls of the folded pizza are a little heavy on dough, but that's more about filling distribution than any fault of the dish.

Service, as always, was helpful and friendly. We'll need to call on their help during future visits, I would think, as the menu keeps getting harder to choose from.

Tasmania - Restaurant dining

One thing about living in Melbourne is that you sometimes feel a bit silly heading out for Greek or Italian when you're interstate. We did sample a couple of the Apple Isle's offering of the latter, but on other occasions were left with just what was open in the town that night.

T's Chinese Restaurant, Main Street, Sheffield

Our plan had been to eat at Weindorfers, a restaurant attached to our accommodation, on the first night. It's only open for group bookings, however, but the proprietor was kind enough to recommend a Chinese restaurant in nearby Sheffield. We would have eaten there without the recommendation since I think it was the only place in town serving up, but it was good to know it had had good reports.

It got good reports from me as soon as I stepped into the dining room. The restaurant is in a converted house and the dining area at the back defines 'bright', both in its lighting and decor. The menu kept things pretty simple: there were three meats on offer for mains and they came with something, usually a vegetable or a herb. Our picks were the garlic pork and the beef with sweet corn.

We started with some vegie spring rolls, which came served on a sweet blue dish. The dough managed the happy duality of being both crispy and very oily and the cabbage, onion and carrot filling suitably flavoursome.

The garlic pork preceded the beef dish by some minutes. While the amount of meat was undoubtedly generous, it was ably matched by the quantity of garlic laced through the dish! Not that there's anything wrong with that. From the taste samples I took while awaiting my beef dish I thought the meat had been well-handled, the vegetables were suitably crisp and the sauce was undoubtedly stocky, but worked well with the meat.

I wasn't as convinced of the kitchen's merits by my beef and sweet corn. The sauce here took on more of a gelatinous texture, and there wasn't a lot to distinguish it from what had already been served with the pork. Again, however, the meat serving was sizable. It would want to be, however, since the dishes described plus rice for two (no drinks) came to a $50 meal! Most of the mains were priced at $17 or $18.

La Calibrisella
56 Wellington St, Launceston

We sourced a winning recommendation from our hostel to head to nearby La Calibrisella for dinner. We twinged momentarily at heading out to a good pizza joint while on holidays, since we live in rolling distance of a couple of the better ones in Melbourne, but this restaurant had an ultimately redeeming feature: it was BYO-only, charged no corkage and was across the road from a BWS!

The menu was extensive Italian: a range of pastas as entree or main (with some thought to sauces), pizzas, and more substantial meat dishes (stuffed chicken breast, veal scallopine etc). SG went with the inexplicably named 'surprise' pizza: the listed ham, capsicum and mushroom topping wasn't particularly unexpected, either on the menu or plate. The base smelled wonderful, as only freshly cooked dough can, but it was actually quite bready and a bit too sweet.

I chose the Penne Fontana, which, unlike the pizza, actually did come with some surprises. The menu promised hot salami, chilli and mushrooms. The dish arrived with capers and olives as well, so it was a welcome addition. It was properly hot and more enjoyable for the salty extras.

We shared a tiramisu for dessert, which was really more of an espresso sponge cake with a mascarpone layer than a traditional rendering of the dish, but the caramel sauce was a nice touch.The restaurant was well-patronised by locals, and the service was excellent.

Ristorante Da Angelo
47 Hampden Road, Battery Point, Hobart

The last night should always be a special dining night. I'd spied an intimate-looking Spanish restaurant called Franciscos across from the famous Jackman and Ross bakery, but they'd decided to take Anzac Day off. Almost straight across the road was Da Angelo and when we went in at 8pm to find there were no tables until 9pm, we took it as a good sign.

Clearly a local favourite, Da Angelo's was chocked with both diners and customers waiting to collect takeaway pizzas and pastas. They make all of their pasta on site, daily. This really came across in the moistness of the dough and its ability to absorb the sauce.

What to order?? The menu offered spaghetti, fettucine and macaroni, each with their own half dozen sauces (though you're welcome to mix and match), plus three types each of ravioli, gnocchi and risotto plus veal and chicken dishes. Feeling our hunger enhanced by the Tasmanian beer we'd already consumed, we hastily ordered some garlic bread. It came as grilled squares of fresh bread, actually dribbling with oil and butter and sprinkled with garlic pieces.I could have eaten several bowls of that and gone home happy.

SG mixed his pasta and sauce, going with a heavy option of ravioli di carne with molisana sauce: bacon, onion, olives (first time he's ordered those!), capsicum, tomato and garlic.The ravioli was particularly fine, al dente in the way only freshly made specimens can be. Like me, however, there was no way he was going to do justice to the size of the portion.

I needed assistance and decided to run with the waitress' recommendation of the fettucine matriciana (top tip: order entree size on the pastas!)It was hot! The sauce was well-balanced though, as the bacon contributed salty flavour to balance the sweeter tomato.

I would have liked the red wine I'd ordered to be at hand to complement the sauce and temper the chilli, but our drinks were absent. One enquiry to a waitress elicited that 'they're probably on their way'. Even in a rammed restaurant, when the patrons' food is already at the table that's an insufficient answer. An enquiry to our original waitress revealed that she had in fact forgotten to order them. After tasting my wine I mustered courage to check with the manager as to whether I had actually received the Ninth Island (Tamar Valley) pinot I'd ordered, since the wine had all the aroma and earthiness of what I'd expect from the house cab sav. I was assured it was correct, but after the other issues I remained a little sceptical.

It was a small downer to what was otherwise potentially a near perfect Last Night Out. Suffice to say that on the up side we were very happy (though distressingly over-supplied!) with our food.

Tasmania - Seafood

Tasmania: an island of visual delight, geological wonder and notable gastronomy. Seafood is particularly renowned, with the east coast especially providing the opportunity to sample many of the ocean's finest as 'catch of the day'. Providing of course, in the smaller towns, that you've sat down to order by 7:30pm, otherwise you may find doors barred and staff pointedly ignoring the image of your wan, hungry face gazing alternately at the menu or through the window, imagining what delights you're missing out on!

Bayside Inn
2 Cecilia St, St Helens

One such night, in St Helens, we were left with the Bayside Inn as our only dining option. They provide bistro style dining, and while I wasn't expecting much I was firstly impressed that they were still serving (unlike everywhere else in town that advertised 'Kitchen Open until 8pm' but really meant about 7:40) and that the bartender took time out from his TasKeno duties to give us good information about the seafood options. He spoke at length about the Fish of the Day (trevalla) and explained that a poor scallop season meant what they had to offer 'wasn't local' (it was from Triabunna, less than 200 km away) and had been frozen. Concerned that, despite assurances to the contrary, our last feeding option within many kilometres could close at any moment, we both went simply for the battered flathead and chips (with vegies from the salad bar). They certainly do love their seafood here: so much so even some of the chips were of the prawn variety!

www.baysideinn.com.au (a website far more sophisticated than the hotel's exterior)

View Point Restaurant
3 Maria St, Swansea

View Point in Swansea is a delightful restaurant. Like many other buildings in the town it's perched above Oyster Bay with views across to the Hazards of Freycinet. Its interior decor is distinctly maritime, but drops anchor just short of kitsch. The food is not extraordinary, but most importantly it focusses on local produce, plus it's reasonably priced.

The specials board posed the linguistic problem of how to make a plural of 'Fish of the Day', as there were in fact three: prawn cutlets, battered flathead or whole flounder. My choice was the latter.It was all one could wish for from a FotD dish, really. Slices of flesh fell easily away from the bone, and I was left with a satisfying whole-fish skeleton at the end of the meal. Any guilt from my second night of chips was assuaged by the 10 km walk I'd done that day and the contrastingly light piscine meat and accompanying salad.

Ordering was easy for SG: Tasmanian lamb with demi glace sauce, which came with sauerkraut and without the promised mint jelly, plus veg.The sauerkraut was a surprise and the demi glace more of a gravy, but the meat was both wonderful and plentiful. Both meals were happily accompanied by a Tamar Valley sav blanc.

Dessert - sticky date pudding - suited our desire and represented the restaurant perfectly.The pudding was sweet and spongy and the butterscoth sauce thick and buttery. The ice cream was certainly garden variety vanilla and the cream was definitely squirted onto the plate (with a maraschino cherry atop, no less!); but altogether the dish was warming, pleasing and hit just the right spot.

The best seafood moment of all, however, deserves its own post.

Wild Yak

350 High St, Northcote; 03 9486 2733

Time to try a new cuisine: Tibetan. Wild Yak in Northcote is a laminex-tabled, plastic-chaired, faded-postered kind of restaurant, run by an effusive native who works the floor with enthusiasm. The food is extremely well-priced, the restaurant is BYO, the atmosphere is simple. It's fundamental international suburban dining.

But what to eat? A bit of research reveals that Tibetan cuisine is based around barley, the flour from which is used to make noodles and dumplings (are we the only country in the world without a national dumpling?). Yak, goat and mutton meat also feature. Wild Yak is no doubt true to the spices and cooking style of Tibetan cuisine, but serves no eponymous meat. Choice instead runs to beef, chicken and, bizarrely, calamari. The menu is broken down in the traditional way of Asian restaurants: entree, soup, then repeated dishes featuring the different meats or a vegie or tofu option.

Momo, the Tibetan steamed dumpling, features first up. It's available as a main (at $9.50 I'd rate it as one of High St's best bargains) but we choose the beef variety as entree (fried and vegetable are also available).My, they were good. The dough was so pliant, but held its shape, even if the lightly-spiced but beautifully cooked meat fell out while one was utilising the dipping sauces. The ying is a soy-style sauce, while the yang was a notably piquant mixture, masquerading behind the appearance of satay.

I had some difficulty choosing a main and enlisted the help of our host. He steered me from the sha gogpa (lean beef with rich garlic sauce) to the sha nyamo-kyurmo (tender beef cooked with lemon, honey, tomatoes and herbs). His recommendation was spot-on. Here we had something that little bit different and very striking. The sauce was rich, perhaps a little runnier than tomato soup, and the balance of tomato with the sweet and sour of honey and lemon was exact. The meat had been treated gently and was indeed 'tender'. The beans and red capsicum were fresh and crisp and I was thoroughly pleased.

Just as well, since I'd been pipped in my first choice by my dining partner, that dish being thukpa: a Tibetan soup with noodles (egg, not barley in this case), beef, chicken, vegetables and 'fungus' (luckily she's a scientist, so is adept at assessing fungal risk and decided to give this one the go-ahead!) in a rich soup.The broth was hearty and not too salty. The dish featured an excellent distribution of meat, veg and noodles to liquid. Maybe a little excessive on the fungus side of things (though not in a health-inspector-concerning way) but that earthy, warming flavour and effect was a big winner.

Two mains, a starter, rice and corkage was $35. I'll be back - those dumplings are calling.

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. The