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…a waitress who had a giant spot with a head the colour of a pale yellow egg yolk. The only question was on which of us was it to burst.

‘Too much service in my opinion is practically worse than none. You don’t have any opportunity to enjoy the company of the people who you are with.’

The words of Michelle Garnaut, the former Melbourne restaurateur who launched M on the Fringe in Hong Kong in 1989 and M on the Bund in Shanghai in 1999. (She hopes to have the 400-seater Capital M in Beijing open for the 2008 Olympics, building works around her permitting.)

I recently interviewed her for the business magazine In The Black together with Luke Stringer from Oyster Little Bourke St. Garnaut’s words haunted me as I was over serviced at The Flower Drum recently and nearly knocked a waiters glasses off as he topped up my water for the fifth time in as many minutes.

‘Good service — you don’t even know its there,’ says Garnaut. ‘It’s about anticipation. It’s not about the waiter. It’s not about the person servicing you.’

Booking a restaurant table is a contract for service. What a diner expects in a fine dining restaurant is very different from the medium or bottom end of the scale.

‘If you go to McDonald’s, service is not part of the deal. You can expect that the people serving you when you are in a queue are polite and efficient. That is as much as you can expect,’ says Garnaut.

The story was part of a series called In The Trenches which bring out the management lessons from different industries. The first one I wrote back in 1995 was about what we can learn from the pressure cooker of the restaurant kitchen. I’m currently going through the entire UK and US Kitchen Nightmares series to update this story with more fucking words from the genius management guru himself, Gordon Ramsay.

One aspect that has come to mind since that story is personal presentation and hygene after Gordon Ramsay told someone they had bad fucking breath.
If you are front of house you can’t afford to have BO, bad breath or sprinkle dandruff, as it were Parmesan cheese, on food (or guests for that matter).
But at a time when every waiter or waitress in all these new restaurant opening seems to be 12 years old, what about spots?
Is a spotty waiter appropriate?
It’s not fair to single out individuals but recently in a very expensive two hat restaurant a waitress had a giant spot with a head the colour of a pale yellow egg yolk. The only question was on which of us was it to burst. oh, and she had a bit of attitude.
I think when you are paying two hats prices you don’t expect to see spots, blackheads, chronic skin conditions, weeping sores or, dare I say, deformities.
There again in McDonald’s you’d be surprised not to see staff without spots or blackheads.
Should wait staff be stood down when they have spots?

Food fascist
What makes a successful restaurant? from Michael Bauer on SFGate.

What level of disability are you prepared to tolerate in restaurant service? Would Heather Mills be steady enough on her single natural foot not to spill gravy?

What about long hair and beards?

What about lepers in the kitchen?

Has anybody else noticed how young staff are now at all the new Crown restaurants, saying nothing of St Jude’s Cellars?

Where do we draw the line? Some people hold their knives and forks like apes - should they be thrown out of restaurants as all animals, save small dogs, should?

Popularity: 3% [?]

Created by OnePlusYou

I’m surprised my score isn’t higher. Fuck it, I’ll have to try harder.

Via Dipping into the blog pond

Popularity: 4% [?]

Nice Sydney friends who speak Mandarin and have fairly decent cleavage.

I’ve always like dictatorships. Communism and fascism both share an idealism that when I was younger could have switched me either way.
Of course, now grown-up physically at least I abhor the human rights abuses in China although I wouldn’t be able to ejaculate over my shoulder if it wasn’t for bear bile on tap.
I think we can agree that we don’t like dictatorships, or at least lack of democracy.
We should have sent John Eales, a famous Australian rugby cap I believe, to tackle the Olympic Beijing 2008 torch bearers in their trip through Canberra.
I do find this strange that we didn’t protest.

When I arrived in Sydney in 1996 France was boycotted because of nuclear testing in the South Pacific. You couldn’t find French totty or decent croissants anywhere and I suffered four years without being able to buy a carbon steel Sabatier chef’s knife. All I ate was Yum Cha and Thai.
I suppose in Melbourne we are too comfortable in our safe little world of unaffordable houses, late model (whatever the heck that means) European cars, free air (frankly it would be a bit much if they didn’t pump-up the tyres) and an annual outing to the Flower Drum, allegedly the best Chinese restaurant in the world.
I’ve only been three times to the Drum in six years. Once for business. Once for an impromptu birthday lunch to celebrate some Tiffany Pearls (try E.G.Egetal, it’s much cooler) and my favourite tea cosey wearer’s birthday.

Steamed fish at the Flower Drum: bland and overcooked. Veggies were great though.

Our most recent to the Drum to catch up with five friends, three from out of town, started like this:
Me: “Why the fuck our we going to the Flower Drum?”
Tea cosey: “I think thingy from Perth booked it.”
Me “Why the fuck did she do that?”
Tea cosey: “Could you wipe that off your shoulder?”
We introduce ourselves to a man behind the counter (17 Market Lane +61 9662 3655), which together with a cloakroom and Melbourne’s slowest lift, is all the restaurant will fit downstairs because hidden away are tanks and tanks of fish and small bears.
Upstairs a couple of waitresses are doing good impersonations of Chinese tour guides (they all wear name tags) who guide us through a room that looks like it is set up for a wedding.
Our friends from Perth and Sydney arrive. We relived our four years in Sydney, swapping fags (cigarettes) and eating in what are now nameless restaurants. We popped downstairs to smoke on the Flower Drum’s doorstep returning upstairs in the impossibly slow lift.
The boring bit is the food which we just asked them to serve. Nobody orders off the menu here. Or so our local food dictatorship at Epicure would have us believe.

Soft shelled crab: greasy and not terribly good.

This was a Friday night. The room was packed. But with the tables spaced far apart it lacked the buzz of at least two other more casual places that serve very similar food - Asiana (181 Victoria Ave, Albert Park +61 9696 6688) and most important Lau’s Family Kitchen (4 Acland St, St Kilda, +61 8598 9880) run by Michael and James, the sons of Gilbert Lau who owned the Drum and built its reputation.
Of course, the service at The Flower Drum is much better than these places. My personal waiter was so attentive that every time I gesticulated he poured me water and I knocked his glasses off.
But. And with the prices charged it comes with an astonishingly large fiberglass B, popularly know as The Big B.
The steamed fish was bland and in more than one case overcooked. The soft shelled crab was greasy and probably just there for the sake of it rather than the quality of the product.
In retrospect we should have sent both back. Neither should have left the kitchen. But we weren’t there to posture over the food but to catch up.
I could tell you more about the food. It was all universally good, fresh ingredients served in the westernised without MSG way that good Chinese-style food is served here.
But next time it is to Lau’s Family Kitchen - if we can get a table - where we just ask them to serve us what is good and I’ve eaten better food. And if we can’t get in there it will be Asiana.
I’m not saying the Flower Drum is horrible. I just think it is an anachronism and should be doing better for the prices charged. Come to think of it just better in the case of steamed fish and soft shelled crab.

Popularity: 11% [?]

Spot the crap stuff (and pic) in my status symbol kitchen.What kind of swamp do I inhabit? No, I don’t live in Elwood which is now merely stinking canals and is vulnerable to subsidence.I’m talking about the stinking, sticky slimy loathsome depths of depravity that my mind has sunk to meaning that I can’t even take a simple email on face value.My curt reply to his enquiries on the local food blogging scene no doubt left Michael Ruhlman, an opinionated man at the best of times, having some fairly strong views on what sort of twat I am.In my defence, I received his email on April 2 which meant he would have sent it on April 1 and my cortex was filled with April Fool’s pranks.What I like about Ruhlman, the writer of The French Laundry Cookbook, a definitive work on Charcuterie blah blah, is that he is opinionated and a food snob (note I don’t say F–die) to boot.I know prior to its recent release here The Elements of Cooking was already popular among local chefs including Attica’s Ben Shewry. It’s the sort of book which is essential if you are starting out in the kitchen. But it is equally useful for old hands.It finishes off with an A to Z of useful cooking terms but I like best his essays laying the ground work for a proper kitchen and good practice - stock, sauce, seasoning, eggs, heat, tools, good cookbooks (very American-centric for Australia) and finesse.On tools, all you need is a chef’s knife, a large cutting board, a large sauté pan, a flat edged wood spoon and a large non-reactive (Pyrex ideally) bowl.Note he doesn’t say a set of Jamie Oliver Pans, Gordon Ramsay cunting egg slice, Nigella Lawson incontinence pants, Al-Qaeda box knife set, Bill Granger toothbrush or Toby Puttock wooden spoon.This sorts of things definitely should not be on your shopping list when sifting through all the kitchen junk at the Myer or David Jones sale.What amazes me is that Ruhlman doesn’t even mention the wok probably because he is from the Francophile cooking school.He reminds me exactly how much rubbish I have in my kitchen.So how about this? Why don’t we all blog (or leave in comments) the best and worst of the tool in your kitchen by 4 May you time.I’ll then do a round up of the best and worst gadgets.I’ll leave the last words to Ruhlman, who Stephanie also keeps going on about, because they are so good:

“As a rule, any tool that has only one use should be avoided: examples including the shrimp deveiner, cherry pitter, hand crank fruit peeler, special slicers for butter, eggs, avocado, mango et cetera. Also be wary of buying sets of anything: figure what you need, and buy that.A well-outfitted kitchen is defined by its efficiency and by the quality of those tools that make it efficient. The fanciest kitchens with the most beautiful pots, pans and appliances I’ve found to be the least used kitchens and therefore the worst kitchens. I hope the kitchen as a status symbol is a short-lived phenomenon.”

Food Fascist- The copper pan I bought in the David Jones sale. Embarrassed- Probably didn’t need the Auber-WS PID temperature controller that I’m rigging up to the Martini Monster’s rice cooker (thanks for that) for sous vide (boil in a bag) cooking.- I’ve caught a cold from somebody at The Age who apparently doesn’t have a venereal disease.- Last night going to the Emerald Hill Microbrewery (beer natch), The Clarendon (riesling, calamari), Giuseppe, Arnaldo & Sons (pig), Bistro Guillaume (the best lemon tarte known to humanity. Hendricks Martini), Nobu (saki), Borsch Vodka and Tears (vodka, martini, absinthe) and the Martin Monster’s for yet more booze (5am) was over the top.- John Lethlean you are too noisy. At least the lesbians sitting next to you in Dunkeld said so. Where was Michael Harden’s noise meter?- Bugger. I pitched that idea last week.- Dunkeld sommelier: I still haven’t forgotten the time you stole my Clarines while feeding the cat. But a returned email or phone call would be nice.- Ellie, keep your mouth shut.- A few of us are thinking the food at Attica has the edge on Dunkeld. Sorry.

Popularity: 16% [?]

There are three types of people.There are those who buy expensive d’object like gold-plated Philippe Starck AK47 lampstands and will spend well into five or six figures on interior design.
There are the kind of people who read Ready Made who buy a plastic $30 toy AK47 on ebay, spray it gold and make it into a lamp stand (although unfortunately it illuminates itself to be anything but the original when switched on).
The there are the people who go: “Sod Philippe Starck. Somebody gave me his beautiful and iconic orange juicer (the one that looks like a Tintin rocket) but as it turned out to be useless . It’s about time he retired from designing and I’m very glad he has. Fuck him. I’m not going to follow anyone. I’ll do my own thing. It will cost bugger all and look brilliant. Fuck Philippe Starck”
People with restaurants in Crown fall into the first category (although I note the AK47 is a poor example as there are none in any of the new restaurants that I have seen yet). It’s difficult to go wrong with that kind of budget although some do.
I’m in the second category as anyone who has visited my home will testify (although I’ve yet to locate a cheap toy AK47 in Australia).
And in the third category are the people who run The Panama Dining Room and the very new, very cool and very stylish St Jude’s Cellars, a welcome addition to Brunswick St.
I always thought the clever thing about Panama was how they had made it look so good on the cheap and the value offered by the food. (Although when The Gobbler was in town he wondered if I was tongue in cheek; I wasn’t)
Tonight at St Judes’ I was with James, a builder who will only work for people who have the correct references, went to the right school and have a matching bank account. And even then he’ll probably will go trout fishing anyway.
James reckon St Jude’s looks great and what’s more it’s been done cheaply. It’s clever use of basic materials. And surely it will blossom, sorry about the pun, as vines grow up toward the central skylight.
The wine list is a homage to the current fashionable reign of Spain and Europe in general with a sprinkling of locals. And bottles from the shop can be drunk inside for $15 extra. Some are pricy but if you are into wine it is not completely overt the top.
The only trouble with St Jude’s and The Panama is the consistency of the food. On my first visit to The Panama where a bread salad was like soggy card and some of the food was under seasoned. A subsequent visit with a couple of neighbourly and enterprising lesbians was better, much much better.
And I suspect the kitchen may be the same at St Jude’s. It’s good - I’ve already gone on record about the rabbit cottage pie and the cauliflower cheese making me think “mummy” - but with the odd blooper. In this instance a watery concoction of some not particularly good squid, spinach and chickpeas. James was reasonably pleased with eel and his crock of slow cooked lamb leg and leeks.
Everything was delivered on an attractive wooden board.

I did find the explanation about sharing a bit weird as it seems you order conventional starters and mains and then some extra veg. Needless to say, we didn’t share.
And then there was the trip home. We were rumbled by Jak’s cousin David who fitted out both these joints.
James, a nuggety bloke with a knife scar across one side of his face, is nervous at the best of times at being seen at an out of the way place drinking white wine with another man. I think that may have been what caused him to have a hot flush on the way home and later a run for the loo.
That and the memory of a reviewing trip to Geelong. James was telling me a story about finding, in an out of the way restaurant, a mate with a young Asian guy and exclaiming “gay”.
It dawned on us both what anybody would think stumbling upon us in this pub in what appeared to be a romantic tête à tête. Not only was it an hours drive outside our normal turf, but it was hidden deep in the backstreets of Geelong. It was a quiet and nervous drive home.
As I leave a particularly worried looking James to his favourite porcelain, my mind rewinds back to the point at which we left St Judes. I’m sure I saw a lank haired chef with what I think was a young Asian guy. And yes I did think the wrong thing.

Food Fascist
- Am I and my friends really all homophobic?
- Do I really have to be so picky?
- In addition to the designer I should declare I’m friends with the wine list person?
- Er, that’s it.

Popularity: 18% [?]

If you haven’t noticed most people find your website or blog through Google. Yes, it may be through Yahoo! But until somebody comes up with something better Google is king.

The reason why restaurants or any other small or medium sized business need to take notice of blogs is that very probably a blog will come higher up in search results than you. This is unless the Google search is for your website name alone. In reality, it may be for something like “Melbourne Italian restaurant”. Moan about it all you want. But unless you think you can topple Google, you can’t stop bloggers.

Plus is a country where media ownership is concentrated into a few powerful hands and you are lucky to find two daily papers in a city, blogs offer a tiny little bit of diversity. For instance, in The Age gossip columnist and reviewer John Lethlean writes three columns a week, plus two in the Melbourne Magazine and at least one (two this month) in Gourmet Traveller monthly. That’s seven columns in one week sometimes and, yes, I’m jealous of the money and exposure. John’s a nice guy and I’m not after his job (there are many in line before me). But sometimes it is nice to hear from someone with a different point of view. And this is a function of the lack of local media diversity.

Blogs also offer a marketing oportunity if approached in the correct way.

I was interviewed on blogging for the new restaurant industry website and job directory I Eat I Drink I Work by journalist David Sutherland. He gives a very fair account of the current debate, some may say stand-off, between bloggers and chefs and restaurateurs. I was also invited to speak to a small group for Restaurant and Catering Victoria on the same topic the other week. I had a few technology problems but hope I got the same message across.

And at Talk Business sessions at Restaurant08 I’ve been given another opportunity to pontificate in two sessions - one on reviewing and another on the web (with someone with Google who will put my small pot of knowledge to shame).

So here we go my:

1. Blogs are here to stay and somebody will one day blog about you. Because blogs are automatically Search Engine Optimised it is likely that a blogs story about you will rank higher in a Google search than you will. Don’t believe me? Google Collingwood tapas or Gordon Ramsay Melbourne or Bistro Guillaume or Giuseppe, Arnaldo. You’ll find me. Or another blogger up there with The Age and News Ltd.
2. 70% of people don’t get past the first four results of a Google search. Even fewer get to the bottom of page one or to page two and beyond. You need to be Search Engine Optimised, which means using certain words and techniques which are actually quite simple. Somebody out there wants to charge you thousands for SEO. Your own blog does it for nothing but a little effort.

3. Blogs are Search Engine Optimised because:

• They are content rich. For example I now have over 650 stories each seen as a single page by Google which helps take me up the search rankings. You only need to post a couple of times a month if that. It is the constant renewing of words on a site and growth of content that partly helps increase rank in search.

• Blogs get lots of links which looks good to Google.

• Blogs get lots of comments which looks good to Google.

• Stories published within blogs can be tagged - just words that are associated with a story. For example, tapas, Collingwood, restaurant, Gertrude Street. These are exactly the kind of words people use in Google to find a restaurant.

• Feeds, often known as RSS or Atom feeds. These are a stripped down version of a webpage that tell search engines and readers when a webpage has been updated. It is that funny orange symbol at the top right of this page. Online services such as Google Reader allow you to subscribe to RSS feeds and will tell you when a webpage is updated. All blogs have this technology built in.

4. The software behind blogs is incredibly powerful and is the same or better than that used to drive most expensive websites. It is often free (Wordpress, Blogger) or reasonably cheap (Moveable Type, Typepad) or Open Source (Wordpress) which means there are loads of neat bits that can simply be plugged into it. It doesn’t take too much to learn how to use this. If you have a teenager to help, all the better.

5. Blog RSS feed statistics can be read through the free service Feedburner. This service also allows you to make your feed into a simple newsletter and manage its subscribers online. This is FREE. Many small businesses I know pay a subscription for newsletters based on the numbers of subscribers. This is a really good cheap way to communicate with customers. Many web design companies will charge a fee for each newsletter sent out.

6. Google Analytics is one of the most powerful statistics packages you can get. It is FREE. many small businesses are charged money by web development companies for statistics. You don’t need to pay just cut and paste a bit of code into a template or use an easy to plugin piece of software. If you choose to buy online advertising you can monitor traffic through Google Analytics.

7. You do need some background software with your webhost that many local web hosts charge extra money for locally. Therefore I would go with a host such as Bluehost which has it all installed. In fact, you can install Wordpress which is what many leading bloggers use in literally the click of one button. it is as simple as sending an email. Bluehost also has a service whichwill submit you to search engines for free.

8. Designs simply have to be uploaded to a folder on the web server and can be swapped in one click. Many many designs are free. And a tailored design can costs from under $100 to about $1,000.

9. Don’t think of a blog as a blog. It is a website in a particular format. You can use a blog to drive a website and have your blog whereever you want on the site. The most effective place to put a blog is on the front page.

10. But what content do you use? Think of a blog as a newsletter. Anything that is new. The new seasonal produce, the new menu, the new staff member, a new wine on the wine list. Even your football tipping. These are all stories that will engage people and be attractive to Google. It is simple to set-up Feedburner to send out a newsletter too - for FREE.

11. Linking is easy. Link to other blogs and they will find you. Importantly you should comment to - be social. When you comment you leave your web address and some other information. This links back to your site so people can find out who you are. try it now and people will click to your site.

12. I would suggest registering a blog with the site Technorati which is a search engine for blogs and monitors links. Again, it is free and simple.

13. Some of these things sound complicated but they are not. They just take a bit of time and very little money. If there is demand, I’m happy to post about how to se up a Wordpress website or blog.

FOOD FASCIST

• Nice to see that the Gourmet Traveller blogs finally have RSS feeds. This should help build regular traffic every time it updates. Will comments come soon.

• It’s a shame that I Eat I Drink I Work doesn’t appear to have an RSS feed yet.

• More main media food blogs required. SBS launches one next month. My latest effort Food and Wine Daily is in development here which so far has cost less than $100 (although I have a couple of small creases to iron out).

Popularity: 25% [?]

The intersection of Inkerman, Barkly and Grey streets is where the whole of St Kilda comes together. The Barkly Hotel is a backpackers by any other name. The Bitch is Back is a local retro furniture icon. And of course, you can buy any type of drug or sexual deviancy under the sun on Grey.
I prefer to hang out during the day at Inkr7 (7 Inkerman St, St Kilda VIC 3182 (03) 9534 6011). It’s hidden away in a backwater away from the tourist traps. Opposite a cashmere shop and prostitute’s collective (and next door to Mr Wolf where you can buy very good pizzas for nearly $20 or more), the cafe does a healthy trade throughout the day servicing locals and businesses in the vicinity. If you are in St Kilda it is worth the diversion for a bit and a fairly decent and consistent coffee.
The daily special of soup cost $9, today all that left was French onion and the weather was windy enough without my own contributions. So I chose a HCT - ham cheese and tomato pide for $7.50 which comes with a baby rocket salad.
The picture above is of the $12 steak sandwich which I can’t avoid when in the mood for flesh.
Inkr7 also serves a decent range of wines by the glass and beers. You can easily eat for under $20. And remember that is the rule here.

I’ve also posted this at Very Cheap Eats, where the rule is the meal - a whole meal - has to be under $20. And you can post the content on your own blog as well while linking to the original post.

If you’d like to join us we have the capacity for 100 members and you can email me by the contact form on the menu above. Eventually I’ll get around to a blogroll which will link back.

Who knows there may even be a book in it?

Popularity: 22% [?]

The Gordon Ramsay deal is still in it’s early days. At least that’s the Crown Casino corporate line. For the moment Bistro Guillaume is the final jewel in the crown up with (in reverse order of opening) Giuseppe, Arnaldo & Sons, Nobu and Rockpool Bar and Grill.
Inevitably Ramsay stomping into Melbourne means that somebody, probably another restaurant, has to be kicked out of Crown to make way. Now there are two French places only separated only by Nobu and the difference between a brasserie (by Philippe Mouchel), a bistro and the prices charged.
I wonder where that leaves Phillippe Mouchel a disciple of Paul Bocuse?
On the ‘phone last week Crown’s official spokesman last week wouldn’t be drawn.
But enough speculation. This is about Guillaume Brahimi, from the Joel Robuchon corner, and his new bistro which is considerably posher than it’s name suggests.

If you don’t know Brahimi you should. Le coq sportif, rugby mainly, I think I first ate his food at Quay in Sydney. I was with a couple of feminists from Saatchi and Saatchi and we “had to eat” the Joel Robuchon mashed potato, my first attempt in Australia, an exercise as much about carbs as butter.
Guillaume at Bennelong, his Sydney restaurant, is inside the most famous Australian icon of them all, the Opera House. And despite the location and the view, the food is exceptional, as are the prices.
Back in Melbourne, the new restaurant, Bistro Guillaume is beautiful. It looks French, Parisian, and at night with my glasses off I could even imagine the the little brown creek known as the Yarra to be the Seine. Well, that may be pushing it a bit but I could have been in France.
The detail in the finishes at Guillaume is extraordinary, everything including the marble being proper and solid. The floors are wooden of the French herringbone design. Dividing the main diner are a curious and elegant marble and wood bar supporting a lamp with old-fashioned woven style wiring in red. The ceiling lights are shading by these wonderful puff ball style pantaloons.

I like it a lot. But as Jak, who some readers will be relieved doesn’t have the salty language of my other dining partner, keeps reminding me, the prices are restaurant rather than bistro. The Herald Sun tells us Guillaume has invested $250,000 of his own money in wine (one bottle worth near $9,000) and another $140,000 on chairs.
And the food and wine?
French classics and I love them. Coming from the UK, my holidays were spent in France or I travelled there for business or love - Paris (she was in Montparnasse), Brittany, Normandy, Loire Valley, once tortured by Catholic monks somewhere south of Orleans (education my parents thought) and later the south (work) and the Savoie (for the pleasure of ski-ing to a good meal).
The point is French food is probably my biggest cultural food reference point. While my mates were at the soccer, I was hanging out at Le Gavroche, Le Boulestin, L’Escargot, La Tante Claire and several dozen other French restaurants.

So I couldn’t resist the Hunter Valley snails at $21 for six. On an elegant frosted platter they were tender with beurre persillé - parsley butter. Jak went for the plate of Guillaume’s crudités. Lesser restaurants often present a plate of raw vegetables with a couple of dips. Here classics are elegantly crafted. A balanced celeriac rémoulade sits firmly on a slice of toast. Sauce Gribiche sits atop tender young leeks. Properly ripe tomato slices sit a top similarly ripe slice of avocado. And finally a few baby herbs are tangled with chunks of beetroot, croutons and goat’s curd.
I am boring perhaps but I went for the steak frites with a béarnaise at $35. It was just what I expected and cooked perfectly.
Jak chose what must be the most expensive fish and chips in Melbourne at $45, a sculptural whole deboned whiting supported by a thick scaffold of pommes Pont-Neuf, basically railway sleeper like chips cooked in goose fat.
Although I love string-like fries I wouldn’t have minded some of these with my steak, tasting of real fresh spuds. This is a rarity nowadays although I do wonder if they could have been a little more crisp.
Finally there was a thick slice of lemon tart. The balance of sweet and citrus as it should and the pastry properly cooked, brown and toasty to taste. I defy you to find a better example in Melbourne.
We drank wines by the glass and I didn’t skimp on cost although two champagnes were complimentary after we pointed out they weren’t on the bill. Guillaume, who was chatting with Neil Perry on this first night, offered us another glass and an Armanac after we’d paid and it seemed impolite to refuse. To make up for it we left a hefty tip.

Popularity: 30% [?]

There are no sharks in bondage kit. But there is something very Damien Hirst about the salumi (that’s Italian for cured meat) counter. It’s about chopped-up (and cured) bits of animal in a display case. Perhaps it is the backdrop of the curtain drawn across one of the five tiled dining areas in Giuseppe, Arnaldo & Sons that makes it look that way.

The last time I saw something similar was a cow at the now closed Saatchi Gallery on London’s Southbank. And there was the display case chic at Quo Vadis, a short lived Hirst partnership with Marco Pierre White.

If you haven’t heard about this joint you should. It’s from the Maurice Terzini camp, he who started Caffé e Cucina before moving on to (not neccessarily in correct order), Il Bacaro, Melbourne Wine Room, Otto, Icebergs and that other little tratt in Bondi.

Chef Robert Marchetti is having the salumi cured to his specifications in Lismore in northern New South Wales. It is very good and very tasty. For $12 you get five of the thinnest slices of prosciutto cut on the special hand operated slicer, one that transports the meat across the blade rather than the other way around.

We arrived at around 11.30pm and the kitchen was not serving from the main menu. At one point it looked like we were to be turned away but manager Ari Vlassopoulos, who I met when I scoped out the restaurant pre-opening, recognised me.

What we could order was hardly slumming it. Baccala Fritto - salt cod balls, crab sandwiches (too rich for the Martini Monster who has a flabby pancreas), three year old Rocco Reggiano.
What I really like is the wines served by the carafe from $16 to $22 for a half litre which is brilliant at a time when it is difficult to find anything to drink at under $40 in other joints of this quality.

There are no tablecloths and the knives, forks and condements are stacked in stainless steel bins on the tables.

The room itself is divided into five, each faced with a slightly different hand-made tile of Sicily. Outside the same effect is used for a long narrow smoking area which has the feel of a Neopolitan bus station. What the Roman designers, Lazzarini Pickering Architetti, have done is clever. I didn’t think they would pull it off with the tiles without making it look like the inside of a men’s lavatory. But they did.

At this point the Martini Monster launches into Entourage. Our Ari (I think) is in earshot as she discusses the other Ari (played by Jeremy Piven), the usual expletives and specifically cunt (I can’t believe I didn’t ** that out) muscle. I’m not sure we got away with it.

But it probably doesn’t matter because with it’s hard edges I’d imagine nobody would be able to hear us on a normal night.

I’m not a natural fan of the casino, but the presence of its new batch of high end restaurants including Rockpool and Nobu is growing on me. I like Terzini’s new millenium Roman tratt. And I like the styling of the waiters in their white coats (apart from mangement who wear black) and Converse trainers.

And I guess like with Damien Hirst styling is the key word. This is a designer place that sits on the reputation of Terzini. For now the prices look like excellent value with pasta dishes in the low $20 range. I want to go back for more but the fact that you can’t book a table may stop me. But I’ll try while the prices stay low.

For tomorrow though I have a table booked at Bistro Guillaume. Sure, I try and live on the edge with the Martini Monster. But I do like some certainty.

Food Fascist

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Jack beat me to blog GAS.

Popularity: 33% [?]

I want crispy rabbit with alioli

The English want to watch football. The Spanish bullfighting. They scream and shout at each other. Hair is pulled. Somebody spits in another’s face.
The police arrive wearing their funny hats and, worrringly, with machine guns.
Such are the memories of some pretty dreadful tapas and raciones in Spain, Benidorm to be precise.
Much of the same rubbish has now come to Australia, although thankfully we don’t have to sit through the “Full English Breakfast” the morning after.
Ever since Movida became popular any bod who’s heard of Chorizo thinks they could open a tapas bar.
They can’t. Or at least if they do I often end up leaving the food and getting plastered on tinto, which is usually delicious despite coming from Alicante, up the road from Benidorm.
I’m banned from mentioning many of these places for undisclosed reasons but that needn’t get in the way of the rest of this story.

I want to tell you about one tapas place that is worth visiting, Anada on Gertrude Street.
The pedigree of the owners include Movida and Moro in London. If you haven’t heard of the Moro’s two Sams, what personality they lacked at last year’s Food festival their food makes up for. Their cookbooks - The Moro Cookbook and Casa Moro - are among the best I own, far better than The River Cafe (where one of Anada’s owner’s worked).
What Anada brings to Spanish food from the Moorish end of Spain, attention for detail and innovation.
The tapas - small plates as they are defined - are tiny but only cost from $2.50 for a crouton topped with Syrian lentils to $6 for some olives that are handpicked, no doubt by virgins.
I thought the boquerones, white anchovies, speared together with palm heart and pickled chilli was an especially refreshing innovation on a warm night and worth every one of the three single dollars it cost.
The raciones are cheaper than a starter in most restaurants. I dare not compare the $15 crisp fried rabbit with alioli (that’s Spanish for a sort of Aioli which in turn is French for a sort of garlic mayonaisse) to KFC. But it did remind the Martini Monster of goujons. It doesn’t actually matter because they were tasty and moist.
It is here the Moorish influences show. The slow roasted beetroots ($6.50) are served with Nigella seeds and labneh (strained yoghurt).
The kebabs, served with labneh, are very good although we thought the grilled lamb, although tasty, was a touch fatty.
I lost track of how many individual plates we ordered but it was pretty good value. For four or more you can order ten for $44.
Perhaps the best thing about Anada was recognising a friendly face.
“It’s the cheese guy,” the Martini Monster declares. That would be Ryan who we first met at The Commoner and is a cheese expert who takes her bawdy language in his stride.
Whenever he comes near our table “The monster” launches into what I pick as a dissertation on Chaucer, in particular the Nun’s Priest’s Tale. Her special interest is in Chauntecleer - a big cock that “fethered Pertelote twenty time”. At least that’s the story I’m sticking to.

Popularity: 31% [?]