Lady Lunchalot

Thought I’d jot down a few of my favourite Melbourne restaurants, in no
particular order:

Best Wine/Food Match in Melbourne
Mrs Jones
312 Drummond Street, Carlton
Even though I’m never one to turn down a glass of wine, I’m not that much of an afficionado, so this one is a toughy. I think the best example of wine and food matching I have come across was at Mrs Jones in Carlton, a restaurant that sticks by the principles of cooking with seasonal food – the menu is small and changes weekly. This is one Melbourne restaurant you can’t miss. I ordered a flawless chocolate tart that was as bitter as it was sweet. When I ordered a port to go with it, the waitress suggested a Pedro Ximenez. It was dark, sweet and tinged with sin. Perfect against the chocolate intensity of the tart. A spectacular end to an outstanding meal.

Best Breakfast in Melbourne
Pearl
Church St, Richmond
I’d almost forgotten about this place as I haven’t been there in ages. Pearl in Richmond serves a heart stopping coddled eggs with caviar. Imagine a big cube of bread hollowed out and filled with eggy buttery breakfasty goodness. Mmmm…

Best Pasta in Melbourne
Cicciolina
Acland St, St Kilda
After much thought, I’ll have to go with Cicciolina in St Kilda. Last time I was there it was cold and wet outside and I had a hearty ragout with orichiette. Cicciolina never misses. Best pasta of all melbourne restaurants. That’s quite a claim.

Best Winter Stodge in Melbourne
Tolarno
Fitzroy St, St Kilda
This one has to go to the king of hearty cooking, Ian Hewitson. His restaurant, Tolarno, has always been my first pick for dinner out on a cold winters night. Think lamb shanks, bangers and mash, and a host of rib-sticking classics. Sadly Tolarno is closing down in 27 May after 15 years. This is one Melbourne restaurant I will be very sorry to see go. Thanks for some great meals Huey!

Best Tapas in Melbourne
Movida
Hosier Lane, Melbourne
I can’t go past the scallops (heaven on a half shell) and the stuffed capsicum. I just love tapas. It’s perfect for someone like me, who is never satisfied with just one dish! Movida’s secret weapon is the churros at the end of the meal – long batons of Spanish doughnut dunked in velvetty chocolate. *Drool*

Last weekend I finally made a dish that I have cooked and eaten in my mind a thousand times.

Cassoulet is a traditional French dish made with pork, sausages, chicken (or probably, traditionally speaking, any scraps of meat you can lay your hands on) and beans.

I’ve only eaten cassoulet once before about five years ago at a fantastic French bistro in Sydney called Tabou. I went there with Kathryn when we were both single girls on a date drought, and we lamented that we never got to eat at any decent restaurants because no guys were asking us out. Anyway, I’d always wanted to taste cassoulet and that meal at Tabou left an indelible mark on my tastebuds. I’m amazed it took me five years to make it for myself.

Start by taking about half a kilo of dried white beans, like cannelini beans. Soak them in cold water overnight.

In a heavy pot (one with a lid), sauté onions and garlic and a few thick chunks of kaiser fleisch, throw in the beans and cover with water. Then mix in any herbs you like (fresh thyme is nice) and season.

I just chucked all this in the slow cooker for about 8 hours, but if you don’t have one of them just put the lid on your heavy pot and let it go on a low low heat until the beans are cooked but not mushy (probably 3-4 hours).

In an oiled lidded casserole dish, place a layer of beans about one knuckle deep. Then place a layer of pork chunks, fat slices of kaiser fleisch, chicken pieces and pork sausages (Not a layer of each, just one layer mixed). I use an amazing bratwurst from Andrew’s Choice in Yarraville, who make, without a doubt, the best sausages I have ever tasted in Australia.

Place another layer of beans, another layer of meat and top with a layer of beans.

In a cup of boiling water or stock, mix tomato paste, a blob of vegemite (not very French, but if gives such a nice depth to meaty dishes!) salt etc. Pour over the top of the beans. Then sprinkle a generous handful of breadcrumbs over the top, and a bit of cheese (I don’t think the cheese is very traditional though).

Bake with the lid on for another hour or two. If it looks a bit dry pour a bit more water or stock in. Take the lid off for the last half hour of cooking so the breadcrumbs brown.

Bon appetit!

Little Collins St, Melbourne

I’ve heard about it for ages, but last Friday night was my first visit to Tony Starr’s Kitten Club. O and I met Kathryn and Tim for a few drinks before moving on to dinner at Grossi Florentino and then on to see Arj Barker’s Comedy Festival show.

Sounds civilised, doesn’t it?

Well, we never made it to Grossi Florentino. Dinner consisted of some UNBELIEVABLE chicken nibbly bits at the Kitten Club (it was after quite a few drinks, so I am not quite sure how amazing they actually tasted or whether my tastebuds were too inebriated to know the difference. Let’s face it - chicken usually tastes pretty good to me), before gorging ourselves on KFC while waiting in the Arj Barker queue outside on Swanston St.

From the lofty ideals of Grossi Florentino, to drunken Zinger burgers on the street. Yes, my range is astounding, I know.

I did, however, make an excellent discovery at the Kitten Club. It’s called a Bunny Girl, and it’s a very frou frou mixture of rose petal infused 42 Below vodka, lemon juice, manin rose syrup, Frangelico, lychee juice and pink grapefruit.

I was so pleased with this discovery that I rediscovered it again and again about three or four times in a row.

After a while I felt like I should have been wearing false eyelashes and a feather boa.

In fact, looking back on that blurry night, it’s possible that I was.

They claim that Young and Jackson is Australia’s most famous pub, but other than being home to a famous nudey painting, occupying one of Melbourne’s busiest street corners and having an excellent refurbishment, I’m not sure what it is so famous for.

It certainly shouldn’t be famous for its parma.

I went there today to meet Zarina for lunch as she had ducked back from Bangkok for a week. I’d never actually been to Young and Jackson’s before, despite having lived in Melbourne for 6 years. It’s been a miserable cold day, and Zarina and I had planned to meet at our usual lunchtime haunt, Brunetti, but I was in the mood for a warm cosy pub meal so we ended up at Young and Jackson.

By 12.30 I was ravenous. Given Young and Jackson’s reputation as one of THE pubs in Melbourne, I was hoping for a monster counter meal. You know, one of those lunches that make you wish you were wearing your fat pants. I was tossing up between the fish of the day in a naked ale beer batter, with chips, salad and kaffir lime mayonnaise. (Not exactly sure what a naked ale is, but it sounds a bit saucy). But I figured that as I felt like eating proper pub food for lunch, I should go with the parma.

(For any international readers out there, a parma is a chicken parmigiana - chicken schnitzel topped with ham, napoli sauce and melted cheese. It’s a staple in Aussie pubs, especially in Melbourne. Check out www.superparma.com if you don’t believe how big it is here).

After a reasonably lengthy wait, the meals arrived. Zarina had ordered a chicken curry, which looked a lot more ladylike than my plate. But I needn’t have been too embarrassed about having a monstrous plate of parma delivered to the table. It wasn’t that big at all, so there was no need to worry about my fat pants which were hanging at home in my wardrobe. In fact, I know many red-blooded parma lovers who would have wolfed that parma down in a split second.

And strangely enough, it had … a chicken bone sticking out of it. I kid you not - a bone! I don’t know whether they were trying to be particularly fancy-pants, or whether they were just reassuring their patrons that yes, their parmas are made from real chicken breast. But I’ve got to say - it threw me. And I am not particularly a traditionalist when it comes to food, but, as I discovered today, when I order a parma, I want comfort food with no suprises thank you.

Even I can forgive a scrimpy schnitzel and an unexpected bone, but unfortunately Young and Jackson committed the unpardonable parma sin.

They skimped on the cheese and napoli sauce. Big no no.

So I don’t think I’ll be going back to Young and Jackson’s for a parma any time soon. I think I’d have more luck with some of the other items on the menu.

Lucky for them the chips were great.