Choux Shopping

I'm trying really hard to think of something I don't like about the Choux Shop.

Ummm ...

Still thinking ...

Nuh, it's gone.

Dipped my toe in gently, initially, and went for lunch. Grilled sardines on toast never tasted so good! Well they were the proper sort of sardine, grilled flat. And they sat proudly on crostini ... not toast at all, silly me ... with a splodge of pesto and a splash of salad. Yum. And perfectly portioned for lunch. Coffee was tops.

After obsessing all week about the dishes I didn't order at lunch, splashed out and went back for dinner. Sadly, the restaurant was quiet ... a little too quiet. But not the ambience. The place felt warm and intimate. And the food? Rich, dark pigeon livers. Thinly sliced grilled duck breast and sweet duck leg wantons. Oyster terrine - challenging to look at, but sparkling to the tongue. The wine list was very entertaining, we chose a French Bordeaux (around $66), which was delightful. The cheese plate was perfect. And it all came in at around $200 (on par with Marque IV).

And who can argue with a restaurant respectful enough of its diners to provide individual hand towels in the bathroom?

Big fat French Provincial thumbs up from me. I anticipate I'll be stalking the place from now on.
GW.

p.s. Jack, ceci est votre magasin, n'est-ce pas ?

Bait. White. Bait.

Pure dumb luck.

I love tiny weeny fish being plucked from the ocean, choked in flour, and then fried to excruciating death in a vat of hot oil. Who would have thought I'd have the opportunity to experience this delicacy twice in one week.

Pure luck.

'Devilled' whitebait is what they call it at the Beach House Cafe in Lower Sandy Bay. I remember that much. Unfortunately I was too pissed to now recall how they labelled the dish (other than just 'whitebait') at Mezethes in Salamanca Quarry. Needless to say, both dishes entailed a roughly similar preparation to the torture outlined above. Both were around the $12 mark.

I love whitebait. To do this at home (without contravening the Geneva Convention) take some whitebait (teeny weeny white fish, about as long as my little finger and just as thin); flounce the fish about in a bowl of flour (usually seasoned with salt and pepper, and whatever else you'd like); fry in very hot oil. Serve with a squeeze of lemon. Munch and moan to your heart's content.

I first discovered this dish when I was an underage drunk at a Greek take away in Lonsdale St, Melbourne. My friend Corrina and I thought we were ordering hot chips from the bain-marie. Boy, did we get a surprise. I spent the next six months trying to find the exact same Greek take away on Lonsdale St (the phrase 'needle in a haystack' comes to mind), pathetically asking all: Do you sell those fish-chip-things?

So, I love whitebait. Clearly. And when it comes down to a two-up contest between Mezethes (Greek) and Beach House Cafe ("new Australian"), I'm surprised to say that Beach House Cafe won hands down! Not soggy, not oily, just gorgeous.

Tamar River Odyssey

In the wake of America's recent Martin Luther King holiday, I'd just like to say (forgive me Dr King) "I have a dream". My dream isn't as auspicious or as philanthropic as Dr King's dream (not that I don't share that dream too) ... my dream is one of a Tamar Valley odyssey.

In the humblest of ways, I discovered the Rosevears district the other day. Took a long drive and ended up in Launceston visiting my Gran. Gran's a top chick, and she suggested a "picnic by the river". So we packed cheese, crackers, pate, grapes, and hand-picked peas-in-the-pod from her garden. We drove along the west Tamar for 20-odd clicks out of Launceston. The time passed very quickly (we tend to natter, my Gran and I). Taking the turn off the highway at the Rosevears sign, just as the Tamar re-emerges into view, I found myself in a lolly shop for grown ups. On the right, magical unending river views with the rolling hills of the east Tamar beyond. On my left ... oooh, on my left was heaven.

Strathlynn, St Matthius, Rosevears, Ninth Island. The vineyards snuggle against the side of the road, and the road hugs the river. It's beautiful!

But Gran's not silly, there was no vineyard-hopping for me that day. We settled at a solitary picnic table under a lonely Norfolk Pine on the edge of a bend in the river. Gran said that years ago vandals had stripped the tree of all its branches, leaving just a sad old trunk. The branches were slowing returning, and they were glorious.

We had only a couple of hours to enjoy the sun and the blue sky and each others company (and of course, the picnic). Road signs sat insolently behind my back, whispering "Geoooorrrgieeeeeee ... come driiiiiiiiiiiink with uuuuuuuuusssss".

But I didn't.

I was so excited, and so astounded that I'd never been there before. Now I can't wait to go back. But I'll do it properly. None of this spur of the moment stuff. I'll book a cottage so I can stagger from cellar door to cellar door to bed.

Some call the Tamar Valley the "Valley of the Senses". I prefer to think of it as the "Valley of the Sensualists". One could end up on an express train to hell, or a slow boat to heaven (I'll leave that up to you to figure out).

But who'd have thought heaven could be so close by?

Yours with bated breath,
GW ;-)

p.s. Yes I know there is a boat called the Tamar Odyssey.

Farewell Meyjitte

Zelda was right.

According to Graham Phillips in today's Sunday Tas, Meyjitte Boughenout has left our shores for the Gold Coast. For good, it seems.

If I was to live only one more day, my last meal on earth would be that prepared by Meyjitte last year at Franklin Manor in Strahan (see review May 2005). But Franklin Manor has been sold and Q1 has opened its flagship restaurant, Absynthe, with Monsieur Boughenout at the helm.

More than a chef, in my mind Meyjitte had become something akin to a super-human god. I clung to the promise that he could run Absynthe in Surfers Paradise's sky-high heaven, while simultaneously running a magical restaurant in Hobart. A restaurant that would command waiting lists several months long.

But alas, as many have suspected, I am deluded.

Sigh. Heart is breaking. A great loss.

Farewell Meyjitte, and thank you,
Georgie. xx

Marque IV Revisited

Marque IV for my birthday dinner was such a treat. We'd tried to go back several times since my last visit (see July 2005 review), but each time they were fully booked. We went the whole hog - appetiser, entree, main (the stomach didn't quite stretch to dessert though, I'm afraid).

It was a lovely night, and our waiter was attentive and helpful. He recommended the Domaine Laroche chardonnay ($40) to accompany our meal. I'm not a real fan of chardonnay, but having decided to place my trust in his recommendation was pleasantly surprised. The French chardonnay was not as dry and dusty as an Aussie chard. It was very pleasant indeed, and a great match to our dishes.

As appetisers we'd ordered the Bothwell Goats Cheese and Lime Raviolo (big fat pillow stuffed with goats cheese, with a lovely beetroot marmalade on the side) and the Seared Spring Bay Abalone (divine). Our entrees were the Seared Spring Bay Scallops with smoked salmon and a delicious beurre blanc and the West Coast Crayfish Panna Cotta. Both were fabulous, the scallops were little clouds of moan-worthy heaven, while the crayfish was as delicate as a panna cotta should be, with a smooth ocean flavour.

In short - appetisers and entree were exquisite.

Mains were a bit heavy-handed for a balmy summer's evening. I'd had the Three Degrees of Macquarie Harbour Ocean Trout on my last visit. Not wanting to order the same dish again, I realised how winter-oriented the rest of the mains menu is. In the end we settled on Pork Saltimbocca (nice, but a bit of a confused dish) and the Spatchcock Poached in a Chinese Master Stock. The latter was difficult to eat: Spatchcock and noodles floating in a soy-heavy broth. Trying to eat this with a knife and fork was clumsy, and dangerous given my lovely white cocktail dress was making its debut.

I'd love to see a summer mains menu from Marque IV, or at least a specials menu (if there is one in existence, we weren't offered it on the night). Monsieur Foreman's handling of his appetisers and entrees is divine, but the mains left me slightly disappointed. A refreshed mains menu with more of a seafood focus, akin to the appetisers/entrees, would be a sight to behold.

I know the restaurant is young and the work involved in designing a seasonal menu of the complexity of Marque IV's style is a mammoth task. But a girl can dream, can't she?

Four kisses,
GW.

Hip Hip Hooray!

Now that we've all vented about Taste, it's time to move on.

I would like to say a great big fat well done to my picks of the wine guzzling season. Firstly, as mentioned before, Lalla Gully is the business. Congratulations on their successful first outing at Taste (in cahoots with stable mates Clover Hill). I have raved about the Lalla Gully sauvignon blanc before (see Saltwater River Cafe review), but this year it is their pinot gris that has got me all a-flutter. Love it, love you, love your style. Secondly, I would also like to thank Spring Vale for dazzling me with their utterly delicious desert wine. I am besotted (or is that besozzled?). Can't mention wine without saying how much I (still) adore the Craigie Knowe cabernet sauvignon. In my humble opinion the only "heavier style" Tasmanian red worth bothering with.

Aside from that ... It's my birthday! I'm feeling like a princess, it's a beautiful day, and I'm being whisked off to a surprise venue for dinner tonight. Ah the joys of advancing years.

NYE 05/06 - Saddest Forty Bucks Ever Spent

I am sad, sad I am.

I have never spent New Years at the waterfront before; have never spent New Years at Taste before.

And you know I love Taste.

Last year I grizzled about New Year’s at Prosser’s. This year we paid our forty bucks per person for our table at Taste, hoping for something special. In the daytime, to me, Taste is a little slice of heaven. You take yourself down, you find a seat or two, you hunt for food and wine, and you while the hours away.

It was raining, but we were in the right spirit. We arrived at Taste in a party mood. Until we found our $40-ish seats. We had booked outdoor seats. Foolishly we assumed the organisers had followed the same weather reports that I had been reading all week. Sun umbrellas covered tables along the waterfront side of the outdoor “apron”. Nothing protected tables along the wall-side. Guess where our table was.

Empty wet tables and chairs outside, ridiculous over-crowding inside. This was my only bad Taste experience ever, and along with many others I’d paid an entry fee for the privilege. How hard is it to hang up a few Bunnings shade cloths to protect local, interstate, and foreign visitors to Tasmania’s pride of the season? Inside we huddled like frightened little sheep inside that vast great shed, smelling like wet blankets.

Thanks Hobart Summer Festival organisers. Our guests were left bemused about where they hell they’d ended up on New Year’s Eve. I was left fuming at having been let down and embarrassed.

Class act. Good on ya. Learnt my lesson, won’t bother with Taste on New Year’s ever again.

GW

A Yucky Taste

Bloody hell. All I wanted was tempura mushrooms, not mushrooms with the shit battered out of them. Once upon a time, wee little Georgie Weston could stand at the Huon Valley Tempura Mushroom stall at Taste and wait in line while fresh little mushrooms were turned out for hungry little diners like me. They were so popular that sometimes I had to wait to have my mushrooms made fresh on the spot. They were sweet, juicy, and scrummo! So last night, on a nostalgic whim, I returned to dig into some tempura mushrooms.

These were not tempura mushrooms. These were battered mushrooms. They were hideous.

Thank god I had the Lalla Gully (pinot grigio this time) to save the day.

GW

p.s. Have a great New Years Eve tonight … might see you at the Taste for a glass of bubbles.

A Wee Taste

Stopped by for a rapid fire lunch at Taste. Arrived at 1:30 and within 10 minutes flat had queued for and bought glass tasting glasses (so much nicer than the plastic ones) and had found a table. We plonked ourselves down and took turns hunting. A bottle of Lalla Gully sauvignon blanc (around $20) was a magic companion to our scores from Waji’s stall - A bowl of chilli mussels for $6 and a dozen oysters ($12). The oysters were so fresh I could still taste sea water on them. Magnificent. Can’t wait to go back for a good hard bash at it tomorrow.

GW
(With thanks to www.hobartsummerfestival.com.au, from whom I stole the photo)

Merry Christmas

"He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf, And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself; A wink of his eye and a twist of his head, Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread; He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work, And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk, And laying his finger aside of his nose, And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose; He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle, And away they all flew like the down of a thistle. But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight, "HAPPY CHRISTMAS TO ALL, AND TO ALL A GOOD-NIGHT."

Merry Christmas to all,
Georgie xxx

T42

Had dinner at T42 last night. It had been so long, and it was such a gorgeous rain-stormy night. Couldn't resist the opportunity to sit by the waterside and dine big time. We ate late. The place was pumping with large tables of Christmas-party diners, so we plonked ourselves outside to enjoy the night air.

Kicked off with a dozen natural oysters - plump and sea-water fresh - while hoeing into a great bottle of D'Arenberg cabernet. Followed this up with prawn and pumpkin risotto and kangaroo. The roo was tender and juicy and the risotto was great. My tip: unless suffering severe malnutrition, order entree sizes for both courses. Serving sizes are very generous here.

In a nutshell, Teef is a pretty great venue all round. It can get noisy inside on weekends in summer, which makes outdoor dining a must unless you like that kind of noisy ambience. The menu is usually peppered with tempting options and the food doesn't disappoint (well, has never disappointed me anyway). Love the staff, love the winelist, even love their coffee!

GW

Ok you lot!

Can I just say, if you can't bitch about your family at Christmas time, when can you???

Anyway, since even my closest friends confused the pink background (and then green, if you missed it) for a whole new website (keep with the program people!), I have decided to return to the classic black. Maybe the whole thing was just my reaction to the lack of Christmas spirit in Hobart this year.

Last year I recall complaining about the over-abundance of Christmas demands. This year, one week from Christmas, I'm finding myself asking one simple question (to the strains of a very bad 80s song):

... do they know it's Christmas time at all? ...

Anyway, the tree is up, the pavolva recipe (mine NEVER fails!) is at the ready, and the cat is completely distressed. All systems are go.

I'll be back before Christmas, but in case you're not ... Have a great festive season, drink too much, eat too much, and strain many muscles laughing!

GW xxxxxx

Dinner in a Jar

Went to dinner at the home of my nemesis, cousin Sonya last night. Sonya was always a shit, but now I've realised some people really have no clue where food comes from!

To start things off I was offered a vodka lime & soda. Nice one! Except, the "lime" was that pretend lime juice out a green plastic bottle. Ok Georgie, I said to meself, stop being fussy. Smile and drink the bloody drink.

I drank the drink (cue cat's-arse facial expression).

Next on the menu was dip and crackers. The crackers were corn chips - Mexican flavour (blechh!) and the dip was Coles brand avocado. I am yet to come across a major label dip that doesn't taste like pencil shavings, seriously.

Deep breath, Georgie, she's promised a bbq, how bad can that be?

Well. Out came the frozen burgers. Microwaved before going on the hotplate, of course. The salad came out of a bag, the dressing came out of a bottle, the potato salad came out of a Coles deli tub. Not a single item in the meal was made with fresh ingredients (unless you count vodka!).

I despair.

It's not that I'm a real food snob, and we all know I'm as much a lazy cow as the next bovine wench, but I just can't understand how some people have no perception of the taste of food. It's not cheaper to buy frozen burgers, they taste like cardboard, and they are full of all sorts of shit. And if you're too lazy to make your own burgers Sonya, what's wrong with a bloody lamb chop or a freaking sausage?

The worst thing about my cousin Sonya is that she thinks she's a great hostess (bless her). The best thing about being Sonya’s cousin is I can dob to Gran, who will tell Auntie Flo, who tell kick Sonya's sorry arse!

Aaah, family. Don't you just love Christmas time?

GW the HRB
;-)

p.s. Clearly not over the shocking pink yet. Loved your reaction, Stephen. Don't worry, it won't last much longer. You know how novelties are.

Surprise!

Tee hee, I've been playing with my settings. Don't worry, I'll get over the geek-tweeking soon and go back to my old sombre self. In the meantime, I've been doing some lateral thinking about Jack's shop ... think I've got it sussed.

Look out Jack, I'm comin'.
GW ;-)

Check These Out

Having too much time on my hands lately I've discovered a couple sites that you might like.

Chez Pim
I'm a big fan of Pim ... she's a chick with my kind of lifestyle (I wonder if she's real???). Lots of jet-setting to sample all kinds of food in all kinds of places, friends all over the world, a seemingly endless dinner party! And a never-ending funding source by the look of it too! http://chezpim.typepad.com/blogs/

Accidental Hedonist
This is a semi-formal site with a bit of marketing, a bit of reviewing, a bit of consumer education. A bit sensible for me, but you might like it. http://www.accidentalhedonist.com/

The Stained Apron
Gotta love this site, it's the food industry's turn to do what we do ... have a good bitch ... except of course, they're bitching about us! Mostly waiters, but every now and then the odd chef gets to have a rave too. Love it. http://www.stainedapron.com/

Gone but not forgotten ...
I really love these sites, but sadly they are closed for business. Trawl through the archives, they're great for a chuckle.

Thoughts from my Anus
Gotta just love this site for its name. Better yet, it's a total piss-take on a Melbourne-based conservative who has a column in one of the papers over there. It's a cheeky tongue-in-cheek cack, just a shame it's time out there was cut so short. http://thoughtsfrommyanus.blogspot.com/

Things I Hate About My Flatmate
I discovered this site about two weeks before it shut down, but now to my surprise there is some action again. Hurrah! The current entry about a B&B is rather chuckle worthy, but check out the archive to read up on this dudes experiences with his flatmate. Funny, with cool images. http://ihatemyflatmate.blogspot.com/2005/12/some-replies.html#comments

Sadly, not many Australian sites to report (naturally, the only Australian site has the word "anus" in the title!). But I'm sure you'll all send me some suggested Aussie sites to waste pressures hours on.

Cheers for now,
GW.

Don't Let the Clouds Fool You

Summer is definitely here, and Friday was a totally indulgent summer's day ... I even took a sickie!

Had lunch with the girls at Irish Murphy's. Not my choice. They do a $10 lunch special which includes a meal such as fish and chips or a chicken wrap and a free soft drink or coffee (woo hoo). The fish and chips were rather too oily, and I spent the next hour or two wishing I'd abstained. The soft drink was fizzy though (again, woo hoo).

Apparently the birthday girl hangs out at Irish all the time, hence her choice of birthday lunch location. I really must vet my friends a bit better.

The sad thing about taking a sickie when nobody else has, is you risk being the only booze hag at the table. Oh, the inner conflict!

Once I ditched my rather too sober friends I headed to Lansdowne Cafe in West Hobart for a catch up with Gran (I'm such a softie). I love Gran and I love Lansdowne Cafe. In fact, I love Lansdowne Cafe so much I think I'll move in. Yummy muffins, sexy lookin' menu, yummy coffee, very friendly service and groovy environs. Hurrah for the new wave of venues away from the cbd.

Next port of call was to meet up with my not-so-secret admirer at T42. We sipped a delicious cabernet (sorry, he paid, I've no idea what it was) while being entertained by a flock of Leavers in their formal attire and orthodontics. Gorgeous to a one. Particularly loved the girls who rocked up in the fire engine with sirens blaring. (And bah humbug to the shazza behind me who barked "My taxes are paying for that!" ... what an idiot).

Rounded the evening off with dinner at Sens (Peking Duck rolls, prawn dumplings, tofu rolls, vegetable dumplings). YUM. And what a reasonably priced wine list! We paid $15.50 for a bottle of D'Arenberg Stump Jump. Cool.

A balmy evening was finished off at home with more wine, some great King Island cheddar, and much smooching.

I love summer!
GW

Georgie Goes Abroad - #1. Airplane Food

A quick trip to New Zealand for a wedding. Only my second time o/s and my first time alone. Cool. I've researched my destination so well I've got a mental map of Wellington that is sharp and clear.

I wonder how long it will take me to get lost.

Neil Perry designs the Qantas inflight menus for Business and First Class. I don't know if Neil also designs the cattle class menu, but by mere association he should hang his head in shame. I know there isn't a sweaty, cranky Neil Perry beavering away at the rear of my aircraft hand-crafting my lunch. Nor is he sweating his crack off in the Qantas kitchen gulag. But poor ol' Neil probably bashes his head daily against the bathroom mirror in fear of his name being linked to the mess just served up to me under the pseudonym "Honey Coriander Chicken".

Don't worry Neil, if I wake at 3am with stomach cramps and a serious dose of the shits, I'll be sure to call Qantas, not you.

To distract myself from the queasy feeling of the horrid chicken trying to find a home in my guts, I engage in entertaining thoughts about mid-air security. In my right hand, a plastic knife. Sensible. In my left hand, a steel fork. In front of me, a glass bowl.

Never thought I'd say it, but Amanda Vanstone and I seem to have something in common. We've seen through the "apparition of security" provided by plastic knives. Just as well I'm not prone to violence or mid-air hijackery. Wouldn't want to get any ideas about putting someone's eye out with that fork or smashing that glass bowl and doing a mischief with some broken glass.

But at least I won't be stabbing anyone with my plastic knife. Unless I discover who cooked that bloody chicken!

GW the HRB
;-)

Grape

Not everyone obsessively studies the employment section of the newspaper each week. For those who don't, I found an interesting listing on Saturday.

The recruitment ad said Grape will be a wine bar and specialist bottle shop. It looks like Grape will step into the old Zum site (I'm guessing from the address listed on the ad, but correct me if I'm wrong).

A dedicated wine bar and bottle shop for Salamanca? About bloody time!

So all you shit-hot wine hounds out there. Get you arse down to Grape and grab those jobs by the horns (you have to turn up at Grape at 5-ish on Monday night).

And hurry up about it, I'm thirsty.

GW

Lansdowne Cafe

I wasn't speeding (I promise), but as I sky-rocketed around Lansdowne Crescent this afternoon I spied a new sign. Finally the little old hair salon that has been teasing for what seems like years, is coming through with the goods. The front door was open, I saw chromey stuff and chocolatey coloured stuff, and someone's bum. It had clothes on, don't get too excited. Not open yet, but there was a definite "opening-soon" look about the place.

Last year I went into conniptions at the opening of Jean Jacques on Goulburn St (near corner of Molle St). And I sing to the hills every time I have any of their delectable little tarts or their scrumptious breads (have been known to scoff a whole loaf in a day, but don't tell anyone!). But alas their coffee is sad. Latest little tattle tale told of being served a "short black" that was actually a long black in a small cup. Gasp!

But, Jean Jacques promises to be a patisserie, not a cafe.

So, Lansdowne Cafe, as you are not promising to be a patisserie, a boulangerie, a bum-crackery, or a knackery, but indeed a CAFE, I'm afraid I'm getting my hopes up.

I'm waiting with bated breath!
GW ;-)

Velure

Where the hell do I get off reviewing music?

Just got back from the Velure gig at Trout. Meagre crowd, but they got into it. And well they should. As I mentioned the other day, Velure are a tasty mix of Massive Attack and George, with a nice touch of Portishead thrown in for good measure.

Oh, and Mercury-music-reviewer-whose-name-I've-so-easily-forgotten ... Velure are indeed a live band. Having heard the CD first (and yes, I've heard them live before), there live sound is as fresh and hypnotic as the CD is intoxicating.

Think you've missed out? Saturday 5-7pm at Syrup and Sunday arvo at the Lewisham. Get there. I don't care if you have to sell your grandmother's soul to the devil. Just do it.

Failing that, their CD "Care for Fading Embers" is available from Tracks Music in Murray St or Aroma in Elizabeth St. If they don't have it in stock (clearly they could have sold out), get them to order it in from Shock Records. Then slap them for not having more in stock!

And for their next tour, lets get the bloody Uni Bar and the Republic on side!

GW (music review impostor extraordinaire!)