Movida Aqui (for when you can only pick one)

Movida Aqui

Level 1, 500 Bourke St

Melboune

Telephone: 03 9663 3038

Opening Hours: Lunch & Dinner. Mon-Fri: 12 noon until late; Sat: 6pm until late

Here is something they don’t tell you when you start blogging. Suddenly, there's a notion of responsibility when you're asked (and you so often are) to 'recommend a place'.

Being a ‘blogger’ connotes you consider yourself 'some' form of authority on the subject. They have a bad experience, and you’ve ruined their night (possibly their one and only in the city); they have a good one, and you (rightly) get no love, it’s not your restaurant after all.

Movida Aqui for me is a bit like the Ipod of MP3 players. If I’m stumped for recommendations it’s the safest (even if not the most original) option that comes to mind. Also, in booking-saturated Melbourne (and to avoid hellish no-booking queues), it's the best place you might get an 'in' at the last minute.

Here is the main reason you should spend your one night of Melbourne consumption here:

Paella de Marisco ($65 for Grande)

This was exemplary — the standard to which other paellas aspire. Lush with clams, calamari, king prawns, firm chunks of fish, and goodly rich saffron rice, with an obligatory layer of gorgeous crust at the base of the pan. Size-wise this was huge so, as good as it is, I wouldn’t expect you could finish if you were only two people (‘grande’ is recommended for groups of 2-4). Be warned that this will ruin you for all other paellas: I’ll definitely never be able look at the ‘big pan’ market versions the same way again.

I also really liked:

Carillera de buey ($22.50)

An eat-with-a-fork slowly braised beef cheek in Pedro Ximenez, the intensity of which was very nicely complemented by the smooth cauliflower puree (an interesting alternative to the usual potato). There’s nothing particularly original about this dish (I’ve seen variations of it everywhere, and even featured one on my maze Melbourne review), but I keep ordering it anyway because this is the epitome of comfort food: a tender hunk of meat with a side o’ mash.

This was a special on the night:

The board had a better description I failed to take down so you’ll have to contend with ‘squid stuffed with crab, and I believe, bits of potato’. I do remember, however, that it tasted fantastic. Both the squid and crab were very fresh and had great, juicy resistance. There were also some good, varying textures in the stuffing.

I find it difficult to have tapas without ordering a croquette of some variety:

Bomba ($4.50 each)

Hurried photograph, unfortunately, because there’s nothing worse than a cold croquette! This was textbook excellent: slim, crispy exterior and a filling of potato embedded with cheerfully spicy chunks of chorizo.

And the things that are not as they seem:

Pincho de tortilla ($4.80)

Apologies for the other bad photograph of the night. Perhaps it was the sheer surprise of receiving this under the description ‘organic egg and spinach tortilla with manchego’. It was more like an egg and spinach cake and, texturally, was very reminiscent of Japanese tamago. Good value going by the size but it was perhaps a bit bland. A touch of Tabasco really (if blasphemously) gave it some kick.

Setas ($16.50)

These are clearly mushrooms, as written on the menu (mushrooms cooked on the plancha, finished with sherry vinegar), but come under the ‘not as they seem’ category because they were freakishly the best mushrooms we ever had (and I was raised in a fungus-loving family). They were incredible: small but toothsome and caused tiny explosions of flavour in the mouth. We even considered ordering another plateful. Not your typical side dish.

Desserts:

Churros con chocolate ($12.50)

The texture of the churros was fabulous, not at all like some fast-food versions I could mention. These were much thicker and softer (properly doughnut-y) but still crispy. The chocolate was deceptively simple in description ('drinking chocolate’): it was gloriously dense and laced with orange.

Helados ($14.50)

Homemade ice creams with fig bread. Portions were perhaps a bit small (especially when shared between four!) but these were seriously rich and punchy scoops of sticky caramel, ginger, and grapefruit, the last being more of a sorbet. Also, don’t expect the fig bread to be, well, bread-like: it’s a very chewy nougat-esque slice best nibbled in small doses.

The best thing about recommending Movida Aqui? Consistency (reduces the fear of bad-meal backlash). I’ve personally eaten there on three occasions with three different groups at three different times over the past (I want to say three) six months, and a great time was had by all.

Tip: Order the paella (you'll want to) even before you've made your other selections as there's a significant waiting time on the dish!

Don't think going up the one flight of stairs to get there will even dent the quantity of calories that will be consumed once you get inside.

Don’t forget that you can still sign up for my Heston Blumenthal book giveaway (including The Fat Duck cookbook) in the post below (open until 12/12/2011). Exclusive to this blog, no effort required, and not many entries yet so you’re in with a huge chance!

Where do you recommend people go if they’ve only got one night in town?

Merchant (Revisited)

Merchant

Rialto 495 Collins St

Melbourne 3000

Telephone: 03 9614 7688

A great first date with a restaurant is a tricky beast to handle. Arrange a second and risk dissipating the heady magic of that maiden moment. Stoically preserve the past and always wonder if it might have been matched, if you’d only had the mojo.

Or, like me, wait until you’re sent an innocuous article referencing one damning detail of the affair (an enticing recipe for drunken pasta swimming with clams), and against your better judgment find yourself calling at nine in the morning on a Wednesday with all the breathless desire of a Mills & Boons heroine, wailing for vongole with breakfast.

The attraction appears less mutual. I’m told dispassionately to turn up at a more appropriate noontime hour and try for a walk-in table (in a compromise with current trends, half the restaurant cannot be reserved). Ever the willing wench, I concede, and a second date with the Merchant is made.

I rope in an accomplice to provide objectivity to my assessment. He orders the gnocchi and proves suitably less convinced.

Gnocchi, ragu’ de cinghiale ($20)

A real looker but the gnocchi is a mush-mash of textures, soft but not supple. More than a little disappointing, considering we’re at a Grossi. The accompanying spiced wild boar ragu is exceptional, however, as fulsomely rich and tempestuous as its name suggests.

Meanwhile, I'm finding it difficult to empathise; my cravings are being convincingly corrupted by a genuinely charming dish of spaghetti with clams.

Spaghetti ca le caparele ($23)

It’s as generous as I remember, the clams taste fresh and clean, and the lithe, light sauce of garlic and white wine sensuously clings to every strand. My only jibe was that it was slightly under-seasoned, but this was readily remedied by a sprinkling of salt from the table.

To prolong my Merchant encounter, the dessert menu is requested, but I pick a beguiling slice of chocolate tart from the display instead.

Chocolate tart ($8.50)

The tart is neither the sleek nor shiny production I’ve come to expect from Italian pastries: coarser in texture, laced with orange, and requires forking with pressure. I ask for some accompanying vanilla ice cream and a very intense version is brought to the table, which I irresponsibly finish with a hefty chunk of tart to spare. I'm addicted, and a second scoop is speedily decimated.

Later, I’m told I can write in for a list of the ice cream ingredients if I’d like to recreate my poison at home. I suppose it’s as close as I’ll get to a night in with Merchant!

First impressions are great, but Merchant and I are in it for the long haul. And I reckon that matters more.

Merchant

Merchant

Rialto 495 Collins St

Melbourne 3000

Telephone: 03 9614 7688

Opening Hours: Mon - Fri 7am - 11pm; Sat 12pm - 11pm

Frankly, Australia’s gone absolutely cook-y. I know it’s been an odd year when I’ve been grinned at by more cardboard cut-outs of chefs than wizards, vampires and bridesmaids put together.

The new celebrity

Forget Brangelina’s brood, office gossips are celebrating the arrival of James George Calombaris. Punters in restaurants everywhere are bellowing for sauce and calling it jus. Birthday cakes are passé, bring on the birthday croquembouche (or gingerbread house!). I had toast for lunch and found myself stacking the slices so they ‘plated up’ better. And in a case of life imitating art, I couldn’t even get the balance right.

So it stands to reason that food is now only one of various considerations that come to mind when you’re taking out-of-town guests to dinner.

To be able to fully tantalise their tastebuds your ability to tell tales of the restaurateur’s televised appearances is paramount. Product endorsements and supermarket representation are imperative. Having actually seen said restaurateur in person at the restaurant in question provides unmissable bragging rights. And while he isn’t one of the Gs on Channel Ten, Guy Grossi is definitely worth his salt on the name-dropping leaderboard.

Merchant is Grossi's most recent business endeavour, incorporating some very fashionable Melbourne value-adds:

The apparent exclusivity of a conveniently central yet slightly hidden location (the gondola is your first clue).

The emphasis on its not-just-Italian-but-Venetian-Italian heritage.

The brick, wood and cobblestone trademarks of old money Europe, with waitstaff uniforms that wouldn’t look astray on a Milanese runway.

A bilingual menu, with Italiano taking precedence.

For the dining cynic that is yours truly, it’s a lot I'd love to hate. So it’s a real shame they went and ruined it all by making the food fantastic.

Bigoli Mori, duck ragu ($20)

I’m told that a ragu by any other name (such as ‘bolognaise’) is a stinker. This was a real rose of a dish however; the sauce was generous, tomato-rich, and unapologetically meaty.

Spaghetti, clams ($23)

This was mine (all mine), and I wasn’t about to share. Seafood, white wine, and garlic is probably the most facepalm basic combination of pasta sauces, but man, when it works, it works. And this saucy little miss was chockfull of clams and gone too soon.

Risotto, porcini mushrooms ($18)

Donna Hay was probably right when she said brown is nothing much to look at. But what a Cinderella transformation in the mouth this was. I’m not a huge fan of risotto generally (being that it is texturally much like a halfway-house between rice and congee, the staples of my childhood), but this had supersized bags of intense, mushroom flavour – the kind that simultaneously inspires you to implore everyone at the table to try it yet also keep the whole plate to yourself, damnit. I find that really good mushrooms and truffles in particular often elicit this type of behaviour.

Today’s fish, char grilled ($34)

I believe this was a snapper on the day, and it had great char. Not much more can be improved (or explained) about a moist, tender fish with great char, and so I shan’t bother.

Chargrilled lamb cutlets ($29)

Is there no end to the loveliness of char? This was cooked pink, which is a delightful colour on most meats and little female children. If I could nitpick at one thing, and I suggest you brace yourself for the toothpick weight of this nitpick, it would honestly be the inconsistency of the menu having spelt ‘char grilled’ with a space between both words in reference to the fish, yet simply ‘chargrilled’ in reference to the meats. It’s a niggling thought worth mulling over as you (or I) chew on the last of your lamb bones.

Finally, some very comforting sweets.

Chocolate tart off the day's display ($14.50)

Apple, raisin, walnut strudel with cinnamon ice cream ($14.50)

Let’s put it this way. Any celebrity, chef or otherwise is a cleverly marketed product on which we greedily feast and fanatically gossip. Merchant is likewise an aptly-named business venture. There are no surprises here. It’s great food and great service with a great backer. And like the masses, we were easily char-med.

What's got you charmed lately?

Uta Sushi Bar

Uta Sushi Bar

Shop 16/210 Toorak Road
(31 Chambers St)
South Yarra VIC 3141
Telephone: 03 9804 7396

Opening Hours: Tue-Thu 10am-5pm; Fri-Sat 10am-7pm; Sun-Mon Closed

'To cook like a Masterchef cooks, shop where a Masterchef shops!'


Unfortunately for Curtis, this hardly means Coles to me - especially after this debacle - but it's obvious others don't agree. Personally, I prefer lovely little groceries manned by lovely owners (with love, of course!); preferably as nondescript as possible, would fit right in wherever they're from, and hidden down lonely lanes to add to the mystique.

Enter this street.

Clearly, I'm very socialised by the Melbourne doctrine that a place must be hidden to qualify a visit. And in my discoveries I've discovered that I'm usually the last to 'discover' anywhere. Such was the case with Suzuran, which on all accounts was a fantastic Japanese grocery with a thriving sushi/sashimi business on the side.

Walk down here.

Unfortunately, by the time I arrived at Suzuran I was a month too late. Website notwithstanding, Suzuran has left South Yarra and Uta Sushi Bar now stands in its place.


Fortunately, it appears the proprietors are doing their valiant best to fill the shoes they've been handed down. Japanese groceries remain, though the selection is not extensive, and the sushi and sashimi menu is exactly the same. It'd be churlish not to partake of both!

So this is what was browsed:

Saucy.

Snacky.

This is what was consumed:

23. Sushi and Sashimi ($17.50)

3. Nigiri Deluxe ($16.50)

And this is what was bought:

Yakisoba and Mirin

How do I know this grocery would 'fit right in where it came from'? Every label on every item is almost exclusively in Japanese.


Definitely not your ordinary take-away sushi place, the produce (you know you're addicted to Masterchef when you start referring to everything edible as produce) was of fantastic quality. Fresh and delicate slices of sashimi, sushi laced with authentic mayonnaise right off the shelves (sold in packs of 1kg each!) and placement (and service) so charming and cheerful you're apt to forget that you're one of about five dinky little tables (only two of which were occupied).


And once again, I have my doubts as to whether I've really 'discovered' anything; the doors are a revolving whirl of shoppers and office workers in the know grabbing boxes to take away.


What I am sure of however, is that Suzuran it may no longer be, but Uta is doing just fine for themselves. And more importantly - there's a lot of love in the room!

Apologies for the long breaks between posts as I've been enduring examinations and tailoring a twenty-first. But that's a story for another (very soon) day!