Whilst on a search for a new vehicle, Mr K and I found ourselves far from our spiritual home of slightly North of the River, and in Victoria Park. The search not being successful, we were both hungry and thirsty (although not nearly as hungry and thirsty as the car salesmen...the GFC is obviously hitting them hard and the level of desperation is most discomfiting) - neither of us had been to the Broken Hill and it looked like a decent lunch choice. The facade of the hotel is gorgeous, the inside is contemporary re-done Perth hotel decor; nothing spectacular, but more than adequate, and the music was appropriately ambient. There wasn’t a server immediately to hand when we walked into the restaurant, and the chef popped out of the kitchen to attend to us (maybe we are not as sketchy looking as previously pondered). We decided to sit outside on the restaurant verandah, and were speedily attended to in the way of drink orders and menus.
We shared half a dozen tempura oysters to start ($3.50 each and a fave for both of us); they were hot and pleasantly crispy but served only with a wedge of lemon. A soy and ginger sauce or even some wasabi mayo would have been most welcome, they were a little boring without. As with anything I can knock up decently at home, I expect the product of a commercial kitchen and trained chefs to be better than my own – but if you don’t like to be splattered with the occasional bit of oil, these were a good substitute (maybe ask for a side of aioli?).
I decided on the Tandoori Lamb Pizza ($19.00) and Mr K had the Middle Eastern Spiced Lamb Burger ($17.50) (no conspiracy – they just sounded good). Servings were generous - I hadn’t a hope of finishing my pizza, despite the tenderness of the lamb, and even Mr K’s appetite was taxed by the size of the burger and chips. A slight kvetch noted was that the pizza would have been improved with a little chilli or slightly more Tandoori paste; it was a little (but only a little) on the bland side. On a positive note, Mr K’s chips were magnificent – it is almost impossible to get a serve of properly crispy chips lately (honestly people, a couple more minutes cooking is all it takes, it is counter intuitive to undercook them just to get the order on the pass a minute or so quicker, remember customer satisfaction? It’s that thing we look after so people come back, and we keep our jobs) and these were perfect.
On another very pleasant note, may I just mention that the service was excellent? We were the only couple seated outside, and we were not neglected. The server regularly popped out to top up water and wine (!) and to check that we were happy with everything. It is lovely to be unexpectedly impressed with service in Perth, and it happens so rarely that it deserves special mention. If it wasn’t for my disinclination to travel outside my 10km radius (I didn’t grow up in Perth, but somehow I seem to have assumed this characteristic in spite of my best efforts) I would probably return regularly, just for that.
Verdict? Decent pub grub, well cooked and well served. Give it a try if you can wrest yourselves from the grasp of the car salesmen...
Saturday, June 27, 2009
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Le Paris Brest....
After years of hearing about how fabulous it is, Mr K and I went to Le Paris Brest for lunch on Sunday…this was clearly the fatal error in our quest for a nice meal.
It was a lovely day, perfect for a drive, and on a Sunday it doesn’t take too long to get to Kalamunda from the city. We found it tucked away on Haynes St fairly easily, and it didn’t appear overly busy, but we stood there in the doorway like idiots for a minute or two while we tried to ascertain whether one seats oneself, or is seated. Eventually I grabbed a staff member who said, “sit anywhere” and we foraged for a menu on the front counter (it was not offered). The menu is small, and it was quite difficult to find something to eat. Eventually we decided we would get a gnocchi ($18.99) and a baby snapper ($24.99). No one came to take our order, so I went and stood in the massive line up at the counter (which would have been much smaller if it hadn’t been full of parties of retirees wanting to know the chemical composition of EVERY SINGLE PASTRY on offer). I tried to order, and apparently they were ‘out of snapper’, so we ended up with two gnocchi’s instead.
Mr K wanted a chocolate milkshake and I had heard their coffee was good so ordered a latte. Eventually (about 15 minutes, which considering their level of busyness did not fall into my ‘acceptable’ category),the milkshake came out. Mr K felt there was something missing, and after taste tests and discussion, he came to the conclusion it was the ‘chocolate’ part of ‘chocolate milkshake’ that was lacking, however, my coffee was good though scalding hot.
After waiting a bit more, the gnocchi arrived. A note about this; they obviously made them in the same pan at the same time, and I have no problem with that…but it was supposed to be with tomato, onions and olives - I got all of the olives, and Mr K got all of the tomato. The gnocchi itself was beautifully soft and very filling, even factoring in the absent sauce components.
Whilst we were eating, a couple seated behind us were brought menus and given table service, so I am not sure whether Mr K and I are sketchy looking specimens, or whether we were just so far under the median age of patrons it was felt we didn’t need to be served. Interestingly, the gentleman behind us tried to order the Pork Burger, and was told that it was being made with veal today, so I deduce the kitchen’s ordering procedures leave a little to be desired.
A note about the décor – fussy beyond belief..think Shabby Chic meets your Nana’s lounge room. There were a few nice bits and pieces – a set of vintage wall clocks, a couple of interesting block prints etc – but it was so cluttered with ceramics, plaques and other detritus littering the walls that we found it impossible to relax. It was clearly decorated (and I use that term in the loosest sense of the word) with a geriatric audience in mind. We didn’t sample the famed pastries – we would have had to line up again, and it was looking like another 10 to 15 minute wait in the queue from hell with Maude and Hazel and all of their friends from the home, oops I mean lifestyle village.
On the Ms Kvetch Annoyance Scale – this scored about a 7.5. Don’t bother unless a) your Nana wants a day out and b) you’ve dosed up on Valium or similar.
/end Kvetch
It was a lovely day, perfect for a drive, and on a Sunday it doesn’t take too long to get to Kalamunda from the city. We found it tucked away on Haynes St fairly easily, and it didn’t appear overly busy, but we stood there in the doorway like idiots for a minute or two while we tried to ascertain whether one seats oneself, or is seated. Eventually I grabbed a staff member who said, “sit anywhere” and we foraged for a menu on the front counter (it was not offered). The menu is small, and it was quite difficult to find something to eat. Eventually we decided we would get a gnocchi ($18.99) and a baby snapper ($24.99). No one came to take our order, so I went and stood in the massive line up at the counter (which would have been much smaller if it hadn’t been full of parties of retirees wanting to know the chemical composition of EVERY SINGLE PASTRY on offer). I tried to order, and apparently they were ‘out of snapper’, so we ended up with two gnocchi’s instead.
Mr K wanted a chocolate milkshake and I had heard their coffee was good so ordered a latte. Eventually (about 15 minutes, which considering their level of busyness did not fall into my ‘acceptable’ category),the milkshake came out. Mr K felt there was something missing, and after taste tests and discussion, he came to the conclusion it was the ‘chocolate’ part of ‘chocolate milkshake’ that was lacking, however, my coffee was good though scalding hot.
After waiting a bit more, the gnocchi arrived. A note about this; they obviously made them in the same pan at the same time, and I have no problem with that…but it was supposed to be with tomato, onions and olives - I got all of the olives, and Mr K got all of the tomato. The gnocchi itself was beautifully soft and very filling, even factoring in the absent sauce components.
Whilst we were eating, a couple seated behind us were brought menus and given table service, so I am not sure whether Mr K and I are sketchy looking specimens, or whether we were just so far under the median age of patrons it was felt we didn’t need to be served. Interestingly, the gentleman behind us tried to order the Pork Burger, and was told that it was being made with veal today, so I deduce the kitchen’s ordering procedures leave a little to be desired.
A note about the décor – fussy beyond belief..think Shabby Chic meets your Nana’s lounge room. There were a few nice bits and pieces – a set of vintage wall clocks, a couple of interesting block prints etc – but it was so cluttered with ceramics, plaques and other detritus littering the walls that we found it impossible to relax. It was clearly decorated (and I use that term in the loosest sense of the word) with a geriatric audience in mind. We didn’t sample the famed pastries – we would have had to line up again, and it was looking like another 10 to 15 minute wait in the queue from hell with Maude and Hazel and all of their friends from the home, oops I mean lifestyle village.
On the Ms Kvetch Annoyance Scale – this scored about a 7.5. Don’t bother unless a) your Nana wants a day out and b) you’ve dosed up on Valium or similar.
/end Kvetch
Sunday, June 14, 2009
And we're back...
We apologise for the unscheduled outage, and can only explain that there have been limited dining experiences to discuss in recent weeks. We hope that full services will be resumed shortly...
Mr K and I had a day off in the middle of the week together recently (not a common occurrence), and decided to go for lunch. As far as I am concerned, if it’s a sunny day – Il Lido in Cottesloe is THE place to go. I love it - the place is warehouse-style funky, with long wooden tables, great ambience and decent music. More importantly, the food is brilliant, and the wine list long and involved.
We’ve been here a few times before and enjoyed items from the tapas menu – they are always fresh, imaginative and more-ish. Unfortunately we didn’t have time for a long, lingering lunch, so we just had some bread ($2 pp) to start. They have excellent sourdough, and they pour the EVOO and balsamic at the table. We had a white wine by the glass, I couldn’t tell you what it was, it was French, unpronounceable (despite my stunning high school French), and it was ok, but nothing special (Disclaimer: Both Mr K and I had been down with some sort of plague, our taste buds were probably not as discerning as they could be).
For main, Mr K had the potato gnocchi with tomato, very fresh tasting, if a tiny bit plain. I had the chestnut and pumpkin ravioli with sage and butter sauce. It was divine – the only slight kvetch was that the fried sage leaves were a bit twiggy. I cannot remember how much the pastas were exactly, and they have a website that has been “Under Construction” for as long as I have been going there (about 2 years?), but I think they are around the $22 mark. They also have that amazing characteristic I normally attribute to Indian food – the size of the serving looks small, but is in fact more than enough to sate your appetite (and if for some reason it doesn’t there is always dessert or cheese to lend a helping hand).
The service is great – the interior is quite large, and it could take you a while to get served, but it never does. The staff are friendly and knowledgeable and the whole place has a fabulous laid back feel without compromising on the important stuff. I have never been there when it is full, so I don’t know how well the communal dining setting works if you happen to get packed in like sardines, and this might be a concern. I have had many a dining experience that has been adversely affected by people who clearly have nothing left in their lives to discuss – not just in Perth either, one such experience in Melbourne at Mini is a standout…the couple listening to us not only shamelessly eavesdropped, but commented audibly on the results thereof… I would sincerely hope that at Il Lido you would avoid this dining abomination, everything else works so well.
Go and check it out – I really don’t think disappointment will be on the cards.
Mr K and I had a day off in the middle of the week together recently (not a common occurrence), and decided to go for lunch. As far as I am concerned, if it’s a sunny day – Il Lido in Cottesloe is THE place to go. I love it - the place is warehouse-style funky, with long wooden tables, great ambience and decent music. More importantly, the food is brilliant, and the wine list long and involved.
We’ve been here a few times before and enjoyed items from the tapas menu – they are always fresh, imaginative and more-ish. Unfortunately we didn’t have time for a long, lingering lunch, so we just had some bread ($2 pp) to start. They have excellent sourdough, and they pour the EVOO and balsamic at the table. We had a white wine by the glass, I couldn’t tell you what it was, it was French, unpronounceable (despite my stunning high school French), and it was ok, but nothing special (Disclaimer: Both Mr K and I had been down with some sort of plague, our taste buds were probably not as discerning as they could be).
For main, Mr K had the potato gnocchi with tomato, very fresh tasting, if a tiny bit plain. I had the chestnut and pumpkin ravioli with sage and butter sauce. It was divine – the only slight kvetch was that the fried sage leaves were a bit twiggy. I cannot remember how much the pastas were exactly, and they have a website that has been “Under Construction” for as long as I have been going there (about 2 years?), but I think they are around the $22 mark. They also have that amazing characteristic I normally attribute to Indian food – the size of the serving looks small, but is in fact more than enough to sate your appetite (and if for some reason it doesn’t there is always dessert or cheese to lend a helping hand).
The service is great – the interior is quite large, and it could take you a while to get served, but it never does. The staff are friendly and knowledgeable and the whole place has a fabulous laid back feel without compromising on the important stuff. I have never been there when it is full, so I don’t know how well the communal dining setting works if you happen to get packed in like sardines, and this might be a concern. I have had many a dining experience that has been adversely affected by people who clearly have nothing left in their lives to discuss – not just in Perth either, one such experience in Melbourne at Mini is a standout…the couple listening to us not only shamelessly eavesdropped, but commented audibly on the results thereof… I would sincerely hope that at Il Lido you would avoid this dining abomination, everything else works so well.
Go and check it out – I really don’t think disappointment will be on the cards.
Saturday, May 2, 2009
The Imp - Victoria Park
Ensemble:
Ms Kvetch: breakfast-eater catching up with friends
Lovely Very Pregnant Friend (P1): quite self explanatory really.
Lovely Slightly-less-pregnant Friend (P2): see above
Dumb Girl at till
Mute Wait-thing
Barista/Manager Type
To set the scene: Saturday morning in Victoria Park, The Imp Cafe. Walk into cafe and find friends squeezed in a table at the back. Impression of messiness and not very much care. Check out breakfast menu, realise you have to order and pay at the front counter.
Ms Kvetch and P2 walk to front counter to order.
Barista/Manager Type: Will you be paying separately?
Ms K: yes please
Barista/Manager Type: what coffees would you like, and I will get them started now
Ms K: a flat white and a latte please
P2: a cappuccino
Dumb Girl at till: What can I get you?
P2: scrambled eggs on toast with a side order of bacon and a cappuccino
Dumb Girl at till (to Ms K): What can I get you?
Ms K: the first order will be the Imp Big Breakfast with scrambled eggs and sourdough toast and a flat white.
Dumb Girl at till (looks at bench with coffee order on it): so a big breakfast with a latte
Ms Kvetch realises there is no point in arguing
Ms K: and the second order will be eggs Florentine on sourdough toast with a side of hash browns and a flat white.
Ms K pays and she and P2 return to seats.
A very short time later, Mute Wait-thing arrives at table with a cappuccino and a flat white, and stands at table, looking like brain has just shut down to conserve battery life.
Mute Wait-thing: “ “
Ms K, P1, P2 look expectantly at MWT, and realise she could stand there vacantly all day
P2: the cappuccino is mine
MWT: “ “
MWT places coffees on table and backs away.
Dumb Girl from till arrives with latte a moment later. P1 asks for more sugar (What is it with Perth and only giving patrons one sugar with their coffee? NO ONE I KNOW TAKES ONE SUGAR AND YOU ALWAYS HAVE TO ASK FOR MORE AND THEN THE WAIT STAFF SIGH LIKE YOU ARE BEING PROBLEMATIC. GIVE US APPROPRIATE AMOUNTS OF SWEETENER IN THE FIRST PLACE! Goddammit but people are stupid).
Cue general chat and cafe noises
MWT returns to table with a Big Breakfast and Eggs on Toast and stands vacantly at table.
MWT: “ “
P1: the Big Breakfast is mine.
MWT: “ “
MWT places plates on tables and backs away silently. Returns a minute or so later with Eggs Florentine.
Ms K: could we please have some cutlery?
MWT: yes
The Eggs on Toast ($9) was a very bare plate, eggs were a bit gluggy looking and the “side” of bacon ($3.50) was the smallest side I have ever seen...perhaps they were trying to reduce the chance of P2 contracting Swine Flu in her maternal state? The Big Breakfast ($19) by comparison was MASSIVE. Again, eggs didn’t look that great, but P1 said that whatever they did to the mushrooms was nice (I venture sautéed with butter and a little cream from the looks of them). The baked beans looked very rich and lovely, and I tried a mouthful, but I wouldn’t try a second – they were incredibly bland. There were also hash browns, which were a bit novel, they were round and deep-fried – more of a potato croquette. I had these as a side ($3.50) with my Eggs Florentine. They were good, but a bit undercooked and sloppy in the centres. I would turn the deep fryer down a little and give them some more time to cook.
Ms Kvetch: breakfast-eater catching up with friends
Lovely Very Pregnant Friend (P1): quite self explanatory really.
Lovely Slightly-less-pregnant Friend (P2): see above
Dumb Girl at till
Mute Wait-thing
Barista/Manager Type
To set the scene: Saturday morning in Victoria Park, The Imp Cafe. Walk into cafe and find friends squeezed in a table at the back. Impression of messiness and not very much care. Check out breakfast menu, realise you have to order and pay at the front counter.
Ms Kvetch and P2 walk to front counter to order.
Barista/Manager Type: Will you be paying separately?
Ms K: yes please
Barista/Manager Type: what coffees would you like, and I will get them started now
Ms K: a flat white and a latte please
P2: a cappuccino
Dumb Girl at till: What can I get you?
P2: scrambled eggs on toast with a side order of bacon and a cappuccino
Dumb Girl at till (to Ms K): What can I get you?
Ms K: the first order will be the Imp Big Breakfast with scrambled eggs and sourdough toast and a flat white.
Dumb Girl at till (looks at bench with coffee order on it): so a big breakfast with a latte
Ms Kvetch realises there is no point in arguing
Ms K: and the second order will be eggs Florentine on sourdough toast with a side of hash browns and a flat white.
Ms K pays and she and P2 return to seats.
A very short time later, Mute Wait-thing arrives at table with a cappuccino and a flat white, and stands at table, looking like brain has just shut down to conserve battery life.
Mute Wait-thing: “ “
Ms K, P1, P2 look expectantly at MWT, and realise she could stand there vacantly all day
P2: the cappuccino is mine
MWT: “ “
MWT places coffees on table and backs away.
Dumb Girl from till arrives with latte a moment later. P1 asks for more sugar (What is it with Perth and only giving patrons one sugar with their coffee? NO ONE I KNOW TAKES ONE SUGAR AND YOU ALWAYS HAVE TO ASK FOR MORE AND THEN THE WAIT STAFF SIGH LIKE YOU ARE BEING PROBLEMATIC. GIVE US APPROPRIATE AMOUNTS OF SWEETENER IN THE FIRST PLACE! Goddammit but people are stupid).
Cue general chat and cafe noises
MWT returns to table with a Big Breakfast and Eggs on Toast and stands vacantly at table.
MWT: “ “
P1: the Big Breakfast is mine.
MWT: “ “
MWT places plates on tables and backs away silently. Returns a minute or so later with Eggs Florentine.
Ms K: could we please have some cutlery?
MWT: yes
The crowd goes wild, curtain closes. End Act.
Ok, down to the serious business of the food. The short answer? Pretty average. And here is why:
Ok, down to the serious business of the food. The short answer? Pretty average. And here is why:
The Eggs on Toast ($9) was a very bare plate, eggs were a bit gluggy looking and the “side” of bacon ($3.50) was the smallest side I have ever seen...perhaps they were trying to reduce the chance of P2 contracting Swine Flu in her maternal state? The Big Breakfast ($19) by comparison was MASSIVE. Again, eggs didn’t look that great, but P1 said that whatever they did to the mushrooms was nice (I venture sautéed with butter and a little cream from the looks of them). The baked beans looked very rich and lovely, and I tried a mouthful, but I wouldn’t try a second – they were incredibly bland. There were also hash browns, which were a bit novel, they were round and deep-fried – more of a potato croquette. I had these as a side ($3.50) with my Eggs Florentine. They were good, but a bit undercooked and sloppy in the centres. I would turn the deep fryer down a little and give them some more time to cook.
My Eggs Florentine ($13.00) was two poached eggs on sourdough toast with raw spinach and something that looked like Hollandaise sauce, but didn’t have any flavour (“It’s Hollandaise, but not as we know it Jim”). And a personal bugbear of mine, the eggs, although poached properly in boiling water tasted like the white vinegar that had been used to keep them together. I hate that.
The Fiori coffee was not robust, certainly not as nice as expected, and P1’s flat white was cold.
This one was my fault, I picked the cafe, but in my defence I have absolutely no knowledge of Vic Park, and went off their website and the Eating WA review. More fool me. Sorry ladies!
(Has anyone else been here?)
Friday, May 1, 2009
Divido
As promised, here is a review of a 'proper' restaurant...
Divido in Mt Hawthorn used to be one of my favouritist restaurants – but a year or so ago, they stopped doing breakfasts and lunches on the weekends. THEN they got a good review in The West or Sunday Times or something, and then you had to start booking. Most annoying, especially when you are not organised diners, so we hadn’t been for awhile.
We went back mid-week recently, after a quite hideous day at the office. We could only get a table for 8pm, and the place was pretty full. They haven’t messed with the inside too much, the retro lighting, and tree scapes are still there, but they have included some banquettes down the middle of the dining room. What they HAVE changed is the menu. They used to have a number of tapas-style plates – Divido meaning ‘to share’, and these have disappeared unfortunately (many a long Saturday lunch have I enjoyed at Divido, and it seems a pity that aspect is gone). Wood-fired pizza is also off, and the menu has shrunk substantially. I don’t mind this generally, as it normally follows that more care is taken with what remains, but you do run the risk of not feeling like anything that is there. They are running a degustation menu concurrently, but it just appeared to be tastes of the regular offerings.
We decided on the Vitello Tonato ($22) and Marron ($27) to start. We advised our waitperson that we would be sharing, and the marron actually came out in the main size, much to the disgust of the nosy couple seated next to us. They had each had the marron to start, and She was not amused we got a larger size (and we were having another plate!). The Vitello was a clear winner here, the veal was meltingly tender, and reminded me of the carpaccio I used to get there regularly. This was a lovely balanced plate, the only thing I would have changed was the use of the caper berries. They used the large berries with stems, and I think the smaller capers in salt would have finished it more effectively. The marron, unfortunately (despite the size!) was not as special. For some reason known only to himself, on the day, Chef Jason Jujnovich was preparing these split in half, grilled, and covered in fresh red chili with a little garlic (I note the menu states wood roasted with garlic and dried oregano) . I adore spicy food – one day I shall give you a run down of my favourite Indian restaurants, but it just didn’t work with the marron. If you are showcasing a gorgeous little WA ingredient, why overwhelm that delicate taste with chili? The standout was the postage stamp sized portion of kipfler potato salad included on the plate – lovely fresh vinaigrette dressing.
We asked the waitperson for a suggestion on a white by the glass to have with entrée, and she came back with a suggestion of a Rose for the vitello and a Chardonnay for the marron, but as a Rose is the one varietal that neither Mr K or I will touch (I lie a little, I once in Queenstown tried a Rose from Amisfield Estate, and it was quite drinkable, but I would still never buy a glass of it, let alone a bottle), we went with the Innocent Bystander Chardonnay. It was not too bad – definitely better than the Sav Blanc by the same vineyard. Really though, a fruity and crisp Sav Blanc would have suited both entrees just fine. Veal is red meat, yes, but it’s not so meaty that it requires a red wine, and as tuna mayonnaise is served with the Vitello Tonato, I think the right white works nicely.
For a bottle of red with dinner, I couldn’t decide between the Mt Difficulty Pinot Noir ($71) or the Chateau de Campuget Shiraz/Grenache/Mourvedre ($69), and I asked the same waitperson for an opinion. She suggested the French wine, and since we often don’t bother with the French (apart from cheese), we went ahead with it. With a Shiraz blend, you expect some pepper, and while this gave you a little hint of it in the bouquet, it didn’t follow through in taste, and there was NO finish. If Jesus was turning the water into wine, this would be the result of him getting bored part way through. I think just on the face of it, the Mt Difficulty would have suited better – you know what you are getting with a Pinot from Central Otago, nice big berry/cherry flavours and a bit of spice. That said, I asked for her opinion - if it wasn’t the same as my own, that isn’t her fault (how balanced and fair am I?).
For main, Mr K had the quail ($36) and I had the duck (also $36). Both of these had perfectly brown crispy skin, and beautiful flavour, but I think mine was the winner. The meat was incredibly tender, and the jus worked perfectly with the organic buckwheat polenta. We also got truffle mash and a red cabbage, walnut and gorgonzola salad ($8 each). The mash was a good texture and tasty, but as usual, if there was a hint of truffle taste in there I missed it. Perhaps they waft a truffle past the field? It really is a case of the Emperor’s New Potatoes, and it is not just a Divido phenomenon - I struggle to think of a restaurant where I have actually tasted said truffle in the mash. If you are not going to use it, or your contribution is a drop of infused oil per pot of potatoes, please don’t bother. Put something else in it, put nothing else in it, but don’t advertise something that isn’t there/end Kvetch. The salad, on the other hand, was an absolute delight. Crispy cabbage, lovely dressing, toasted walnuts, blue cheese and the occasional sultana. With the duck, it was bliss.
We end up sharing a dessert – there was a persimmon and apple crumble that looked interesting, but somehow I prefer to make my own with these things, so we went with the Chocolate Nemesis tart ($15), and a bottle of the Two Hands Moscato ($36). The chocolate tart was good, not over-sweet, but could have used more crème fraiche and strawberry compote as accompaniment. The Moscato was most drinkable, light and not cloying – you may buy me some for my next birthday if you are so inclined.
We didn’t have coffee – it was a school night, and I couldn’t afford the staring-at-the-ceiling time it would have entailed, but from memory, their coffee is good, and I have never had a burnt one.
One more slight kvetch: the middle aged couple sitting next to us unashamedly listened to our conversation all night. From this I deduce that a) they have been married too long and b) they have no pets or children – both of whom make excellent dinner conversation when you have nothing left to say to each other (Mr K and I are clearly not at this point in our relationship). As I was relating the next exciting instalment of a staff member’s family drama (honestly, it puts Neighbours to shame), I am sure they had plenty to keep them amused. I only wish they had the decency to pretend they were NOT listening…to listen is understandable, but to gawk is gauche.
Overall? The service is excellent and prompt, even when the restaurant is busy. The food is mostly excellent, apart from my quibbles, and I will be trying the cauliflower tagliatelle next time I am in there. I just wish they still had their sharing menu – I miss it. Oh, and the marron? They didn’t charge us for the upgrade, wasn’t that nice of them? The Nosies would have been MOST put out if they’d known.
Cost $244 (incl use of Entertainment Card).
Divido in Mt Hawthorn used to be one of my favouritist restaurants – but a year or so ago, they stopped doing breakfasts and lunches on the weekends. THEN they got a good review in The West or Sunday Times or something, and then you had to start booking. Most annoying, especially when you are not organised diners, so we hadn’t been for awhile.
We went back mid-week recently, after a quite hideous day at the office. We could only get a table for 8pm, and the place was pretty full. They haven’t messed with the inside too much, the retro lighting, and tree scapes are still there, but they have included some banquettes down the middle of the dining room. What they HAVE changed is the menu. They used to have a number of tapas-style plates – Divido meaning ‘to share’, and these have disappeared unfortunately (many a long Saturday lunch have I enjoyed at Divido, and it seems a pity that aspect is gone). Wood-fired pizza is also off, and the menu has shrunk substantially. I don’t mind this generally, as it normally follows that more care is taken with what remains, but you do run the risk of not feeling like anything that is there. They are running a degustation menu concurrently, but it just appeared to be tastes of the regular offerings.
We decided on the Vitello Tonato ($22) and Marron ($27) to start. We advised our waitperson that we would be sharing, and the marron actually came out in the main size, much to the disgust of the nosy couple seated next to us. They had each had the marron to start, and She was not amused we got a larger size (and we were having another plate!). The Vitello was a clear winner here, the veal was meltingly tender, and reminded me of the carpaccio I used to get there regularly. This was a lovely balanced plate, the only thing I would have changed was the use of the caper berries. They used the large berries with stems, and I think the smaller capers in salt would have finished it more effectively. The marron, unfortunately (despite the size!) was not as special. For some reason known only to himself, on the day, Chef Jason Jujnovich was preparing these split in half, grilled, and covered in fresh red chili with a little garlic (I note the menu states wood roasted with garlic and dried oregano) . I adore spicy food – one day I shall give you a run down of my favourite Indian restaurants, but it just didn’t work with the marron. If you are showcasing a gorgeous little WA ingredient, why overwhelm that delicate taste with chili? The standout was the postage stamp sized portion of kipfler potato salad included on the plate – lovely fresh vinaigrette dressing.
We asked the waitperson for a suggestion on a white by the glass to have with entrée, and she came back with a suggestion of a Rose for the vitello and a Chardonnay for the marron, but as a Rose is the one varietal that neither Mr K or I will touch (I lie a little, I once in Queenstown tried a Rose from Amisfield Estate, and it was quite drinkable, but I would still never buy a glass of it, let alone a bottle), we went with the Innocent Bystander Chardonnay. It was not too bad – definitely better than the Sav Blanc by the same vineyard. Really though, a fruity and crisp Sav Blanc would have suited both entrees just fine. Veal is red meat, yes, but it’s not so meaty that it requires a red wine, and as tuna mayonnaise is served with the Vitello Tonato, I think the right white works nicely.
For a bottle of red with dinner, I couldn’t decide between the Mt Difficulty Pinot Noir ($71) or the Chateau de Campuget Shiraz/Grenache/Mourvedre ($69), and I asked the same waitperson for an opinion. She suggested the French wine, and since we often don’t bother with the French (apart from cheese), we went ahead with it. With a Shiraz blend, you expect some pepper, and while this gave you a little hint of it in the bouquet, it didn’t follow through in taste, and there was NO finish. If Jesus was turning the water into wine, this would be the result of him getting bored part way through. I think just on the face of it, the Mt Difficulty would have suited better – you know what you are getting with a Pinot from Central Otago, nice big berry/cherry flavours and a bit of spice. That said, I asked for her opinion - if it wasn’t the same as my own, that isn’t her fault (how balanced and fair am I?).
For main, Mr K had the quail ($36) and I had the duck (also $36). Both of these had perfectly brown crispy skin, and beautiful flavour, but I think mine was the winner. The meat was incredibly tender, and the jus worked perfectly with the organic buckwheat polenta. We also got truffle mash and a red cabbage, walnut and gorgonzola salad ($8 each). The mash was a good texture and tasty, but as usual, if there was a hint of truffle taste in there I missed it. Perhaps they waft a truffle past the field? It really is a case of the Emperor’s New Potatoes, and it is not just a Divido phenomenon - I struggle to think of a restaurant where I have actually tasted said truffle in the mash. If you are not going to use it, or your contribution is a drop of infused oil per pot of potatoes, please don’t bother. Put something else in it, put nothing else in it, but don’t advertise something that isn’t there/end Kvetch. The salad, on the other hand, was an absolute delight. Crispy cabbage, lovely dressing, toasted walnuts, blue cheese and the occasional sultana. With the duck, it was bliss.
We end up sharing a dessert – there was a persimmon and apple crumble that looked interesting, but somehow I prefer to make my own with these things, so we went with the Chocolate Nemesis tart ($15), and a bottle of the Two Hands Moscato ($36). The chocolate tart was good, not over-sweet, but could have used more crème fraiche and strawberry compote as accompaniment. The Moscato was most drinkable, light and not cloying – you may buy me some for my next birthday if you are so inclined.
We didn’t have coffee – it was a school night, and I couldn’t afford the staring-at-the-ceiling time it would have entailed, but from memory, their coffee is good, and I have never had a burnt one.
One more slight kvetch: the middle aged couple sitting next to us unashamedly listened to our conversation all night. From this I deduce that a) they have been married too long and b) they have no pets or children – both of whom make excellent dinner conversation when you have nothing left to say to each other (Mr K and I are clearly not at this point in our relationship). As I was relating the next exciting instalment of a staff member’s family drama (honestly, it puts Neighbours to shame), I am sure they had plenty to keep them amused. I only wish they had the decency to pretend they were NOT listening…to listen is understandable, but to gawk is gauche.
Overall? The service is excellent and prompt, even when the restaurant is busy. The food is mostly excellent, apart from my quibbles, and I will be trying the cauliflower tagliatelle next time I am in there. I just wish they still had their sharing menu – I miss it. Oh, and the marron? They didn’t charge us for the upgrade, wasn’t that nice of them? The Nosies would have been MOST put out if they’d known.
Cost $244 (incl use of Entertainment Card).
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
The Inglewood hotel
My apologies for yet another hotel review…I do actually eat at restaurants, honest. Just lately however, due to no fault of my own, my dining experiences have mostly been confined to Perth hostelry. I have a couple of other reviews up my sleeve, but metaphors desert me in trying to adequately describe them currently. They will have to wait until, sated with a large glass of Peregrine Pinot Noir I can convey my impressions without chewing my lip or pulling out my hair.
Hence…
As you know, we were kindly allowed a long weekend for Anzac Day, thank you creepy Colin Barnett (is it just me, or does anyone else think he bears a striking resemblance to a dead fish ie. slimy and wet?). After a weekend, in the house, hard at work hunched over my laptop, Monday was the one day Mr Kvetch and I got to relax and enjoy ourselves. So we decided on lunch, and after tossing around many a name, decided to stick close-ish to home and casual and went to the Inglewood. Now, I have been to the Inglewood a few times before, and always thought that it was overpriced for the quality of what you get. That said, they have a nice outdoor area, and the temperature and shade out there was PERFECT. It couldn’t have been better if I had rung ahead to define my specifications.
We arrived about 12:30, and it was reasonably quiet - we got served a drink at the bar with no waiting, and grabbed a table outside. We decided to order the Share plate ($29) and the Spicy chicken skewers with Nasi Goreng and fried egg, coconut and peanut sauce ($12), with a view to ordering more if we were still hungry. The bar was getting pretty busy at this point, but we were happy enough sitting outside and having a chat. Eventually two wait-staff walked by with what was definitely our meal, but they were looking for Table 130, and ours was 129. They went past us, and Mr K and I are pretty sure they wandered around the entire hotel, possibly stopping for a brief kip, before they checked the table numbers and presented us with our food. It was cold, not quite Antarctic in nature, but getting there pretty quickly. It had been on such an epic adventure before eventually reaching us, I am surprised it wasn't wearing Harrison Ford's hat.
Being the fair minded and accurate individual that I am, I am going to review the food as though it were presented to me as I assume it was intended, ie. Hot. The tasting plate had plenty of Turkish bread on it for the size of it, which is unusual in these carbohydrate-phobic (or just making up margin on bread) times. There were plenty of olives and a decent supply of feta. The feta was a bit tasteless, but then it generally is when you just open a packet and scrape it into a ramekin. The chili squid was surprisingly flavourful and tender, especially considering it was cold. I was expecting it to be like chewing a slimy elastic band. The strangest thing on the plate was the ramekin of rust coloured fluid, with a squiggle of black fluid at the bottom. You might think this was olive oil and balsamic, and that is what I thought too…at first. The rust colour I attributed to perhaps chili infusing, but I was wrong. Upon first taste, and I cannot believe I am writing this, I honestly thought they must have been recycling the deep fryer oil. I neither exaggerate nor prevaricate, that is EXACTLY what it tasted like. Mr K, when asked his impression, unprompted, gave the same response. In pursuit of truth, justice, and decent olive oil for all, I persisted in my examination, and I think, just maybe they might have infused the oil with black tea. That would account for both the colour, and the bitterness. Someone please ask them not to bother next time. My god but it was awful.
We interrupt this tasting plate description to comment on the chicken. There were ‘Moroccan’ chicken skewers on the tasting plate. There were also chicken skewers with peanut sauce on the Indonesian thingo. At the time of ordering, we wondered whether they could possibly be the same thing, but they were defined separately as Moroccan and Indonesian, and my slapdash research indicates that the two are separated by the Indian Ocean and the width of nearly the entire African continent. We could be forgiven for thinking they would be different. When the plates arrived, we noticed they looked suspiciously similar in colour and visible spice. Blind taste-tests did in fact confirm these were exactly same item, branded differently. As a side note, they were a good size, and the chicken was both nicely cooked and tender. The Indonesian dish had also a fried egg, nicely runny yoke (too bad it had frosted over subsequently), and a small portion of Nasi Goreng which was quite tasty, although slightly too many peas per capita of rice.
A bottle of Shaw & Smith Sav Blanc ($44) completed our meal, it could have been that, or the bespoke weather, but I didn’t feel as irate as I might have about the oil recycling or the chicken pulling a double shift.
Hence…
As you know, we were kindly allowed a long weekend for Anzac Day, thank you creepy Colin Barnett (is it just me, or does anyone else think he bears a striking resemblance to a dead fish ie. slimy and wet?). After a weekend, in the house, hard at work hunched over my laptop, Monday was the one day Mr Kvetch and I got to relax and enjoy ourselves. So we decided on lunch, and after tossing around many a name, decided to stick close-ish to home and casual and went to the Inglewood. Now, I have been to the Inglewood a few times before, and always thought that it was overpriced for the quality of what you get. That said, they have a nice outdoor area, and the temperature and shade out there was PERFECT. It couldn’t have been better if I had rung ahead to define my specifications.
We arrived about 12:30, and it was reasonably quiet - we got served a drink at the bar with no waiting, and grabbed a table outside. We decided to order the Share plate ($29) and the Spicy chicken skewers with Nasi Goreng and fried egg, coconut and peanut sauce ($12), with a view to ordering more if we were still hungry. The bar was getting pretty busy at this point, but we were happy enough sitting outside and having a chat. Eventually two wait-staff walked by with what was definitely our meal, but they were looking for Table 130, and ours was 129. They went past us, and Mr K and I are pretty sure they wandered around the entire hotel, possibly stopping for a brief kip, before they checked the table numbers and presented us with our food. It was cold, not quite Antarctic in nature, but getting there pretty quickly. It had been on such an epic adventure before eventually reaching us, I am surprised it wasn't wearing Harrison Ford's hat.
Being the fair minded and accurate individual that I am, I am going to review the food as though it were presented to me as I assume it was intended, ie. Hot. The tasting plate had plenty of Turkish bread on it for the size of it, which is unusual in these carbohydrate-phobic (or just making up margin on bread) times. There were plenty of olives and a decent supply of feta. The feta was a bit tasteless, but then it generally is when you just open a packet and scrape it into a ramekin. The chili squid was surprisingly flavourful and tender, especially considering it was cold. I was expecting it to be like chewing a slimy elastic band. The strangest thing on the plate was the ramekin of rust coloured fluid, with a squiggle of black fluid at the bottom. You might think this was olive oil and balsamic, and that is what I thought too…at first. The rust colour I attributed to perhaps chili infusing, but I was wrong. Upon first taste, and I cannot believe I am writing this, I honestly thought they must have been recycling the deep fryer oil. I neither exaggerate nor prevaricate, that is EXACTLY what it tasted like. Mr K, when asked his impression, unprompted, gave the same response. In pursuit of truth, justice, and decent olive oil for all, I persisted in my examination, and I think, just maybe they might have infused the oil with black tea. That would account for both the colour, and the bitterness. Someone please ask them not to bother next time. My god but it was awful.
We interrupt this tasting plate description to comment on the chicken. There were ‘Moroccan’ chicken skewers on the tasting plate. There were also chicken skewers with peanut sauce on the Indonesian thingo. At the time of ordering, we wondered whether they could possibly be the same thing, but they were defined separately as Moroccan and Indonesian, and my slapdash research indicates that the two are separated by the Indian Ocean and the width of nearly the entire African continent. We could be forgiven for thinking they would be different. When the plates arrived, we noticed they looked suspiciously similar in colour and visible spice. Blind taste-tests did in fact confirm these were exactly same item, branded differently. As a side note, they were a good size, and the chicken was both nicely cooked and tender. The Indonesian dish had also a fried egg, nicely runny yoke (too bad it had frosted over subsequently), and a small portion of Nasi Goreng which was quite tasty, although slightly too many peas per capita of rice.
A bottle of Shaw & Smith Sav Blanc ($44) completed our meal, it could have been that, or the bespoke weather, but I didn’t feel as irate as I might have about the oil recycling or the chicken pulling a double shift.
The Brisbane Hotel
I would just like to start today’s pronouncement on dining with a Public Service Announcement: I hate the Brisbane Hotel. Contrary to the reasons I normally hate restaurants, this one actually does not historically have anything to do with the food (decent, although the sausage rolls have been on the menu since the opening day), the fit-out (reasonably funky although dating pretty quickly) or the music (fairly cool in summer, unremarkable in winter). It’s the people, frankly. I detest walking into a room (see my opening post) and having the entire heaving mass of people stop, stare, evaluate you as lacking wank value, and return to their espresso martini (no offence meant to espresso martinis – I really like them).
DESPITE all of the above, I had occasion to go there the other night for dinner. I didn’t have much of a choice, someone else was paying…so I decided to be open minded, and I was prepared to forgive the Brisbane its vacuous, lollipop-esque patrons. There was hardly anyone there, so the patrons couldn’t be faulted this time. But it was boring frankly, and it wasn’t the company I was with. The food was ok, if not inspired. Clearly the GFC is having an effect on the chef’s budget - pork is cheap and it had insinuated its way through the menu like a mutating plague. Bacon, pork belly, pork fillet, more bacon – it had more exposure than Eddie McGuire did in the great Channel 9 epidemic of 2007. I hate pork, and though I defend every individual’s right to eat what they like (within reason – if you can adopt it through the WWF, perhaps we should re-think our dining patterns, no?), it shouldn’t come at the expense of me being able to find something appetising and suitable on the menu. As well as the swine issue, I couldn’t find anything on the wine list I wanted to drink, and no, I was not being difficult. It was…boring, blasé, innocuous, vanilla (no offence meant to vanilla either)…
You know what? I liked it better when I hated it because of what it was – at least then it had personality, even if you wouldn’t have introduced it to your friends.
/end Kvetch
DESPITE all of the above, I had occasion to go there the other night for dinner. I didn’t have much of a choice, someone else was paying…so I decided to be open minded, and I was prepared to forgive the Brisbane its vacuous, lollipop-esque patrons. There was hardly anyone there, so the patrons couldn’t be faulted this time. But it was boring frankly, and it wasn’t the company I was with. The food was ok, if not inspired. Clearly the GFC is having an effect on the chef’s budget - pork is cheap and it had insinuated its way through the menu like a mutating plague. Bacon, pork belly, pork fillet, more bacon – it had more exposure than Eddie McGuire did in the great Channel 9 epidemic of 2007. I hate pork, and though I defend every individual’s right to eat what they like (within reason – if you can adopt it through the WWF, perhaps we should re-think our dining patterns, no?), it shouldn’t come at the expense of me being able to find something appetising and suitable on the menu. As well as the swine issue, I couldn’t find anything on the wine list I wanted to drink, and no, I was not being difficult. It was…boring, blasé, innocuous, vanilla (no offence meant to vanilla either)…
You know what? I liked it better when I hated it because of what it was – at least then it had personality, even if you wouldn’t have introduced it to your friends.
/end Kvetch
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