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?

Demi-Tasse

Demi-Tasse

550 Lonsdale St

Melbourne 3000

Telephone: 03 9642 3571

Opening Hours: Mon-Fri Breakfast and Lunch

My favourite South Australian is in town and confined to the legal district for the duration of her stay. Lawyer jokes aside, this is actually a pretty terrific outcome on the feeding front. As the number of eager eagles on Masterchef would suggest (most in fact originating from this very block of bricks in Melbourne), the legal community takes its eating very seriously.

The edible (and other) delights of King St are just a block away. But it’s easy to get distracted with closer café heavyweights like Earl Canteen (luxe, lush sandwiches that have been blogged about extensively – go for the Otway pork belly), SMXL (try a ‘moave’ with your excellent cuppa), and Le Traiteur (a long lunch experience, start with the tomato consommé). If you prefer to go down the road less taken, however, you can’t go past Demi-Tasse. Which is funny, because it is very, very easy to go past Demi-Tasse. This dame’s not much to look at from the outside.

But she’s a Hepburn beauty within, with similar style. Dark wooden panellings with matching furniture, bottled beauties up top, a literally angelic mural, and lush red leather booths.

Though I question whether Hepburn could have maintained her slim physique if she’d frequented a place like this very often. The food here is hearty, homemade, and addictive. And the service is just as warm and lovely.

We make with the meatballs.

A very traditional mix of pork and veal served with tomato sugo and crusty bread ($10.50). I couldn’t think of a better dish for a cold Melbourne day, and even though it’s spring, it’s clear we won’t be in shortage of those anytime soon. The meatballs had great bite, they came apart in juicy chunks and we mopped them up with the bread and sugo.

And I never say no to a house-made pie.

Beef Bourguignon with tomato relish and green salad ($7.50)

It’s always a pleasant surprise to receive a ‘gourmet’ pie in a city café that isn’t manufactured by Boscastle. This was very sizeable, and a bargain for the price. The pastry was delicately layered, and I especially enjoyed the tomato relish, which had a very unusual sweetness and tang reminiscent of chutney. The filling itself was more than decent, though a little dry. If you like your meat meaty, i.e. not indiscernibly minced, it’s definitely the pie for you. Other pie options include vegetable or a very interesting-sounding chicken fricassée.

Or pick something else from its extensive and extensively tempting menu.

Demi-Tasse: petite with plenty of pizzazz. And particularly important if you work in this area: its coffee packs a punch as well.

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.

Cupcake Showdown: Bleeding Red Velvet (Part 2) - Cupcake Central

Cupcake Central

Level 2, Dining Hall

Melbourne Central (City)

(Also in Hawthorn)

Opening Hours (City): Mon - Thurs 10am - 7pm; Fri 10am - 9pm; Sat & Sun 10am - 6pm

The ‘Red Velvet’ showdown continues.

I ‘found’ Cupcake Central via a Christopher Columbus moment:

1. I had no idea what I was looking at;

2. I definitely had no idea it had already been ‘found’ (many, many times); and

3. I foolishly felt self-important in ‘my’ discovery.

It happened some months ago as I was having a Grill’d burger with long-suffering friend MS.

Peering out the window, I announced “I see cupcakes.”

Burger mid-way to mouth, MS lowered it slowly. Unfortunately, the row of cupcakes I had spotted on the floor below was not visible from where he sat. As far as he could tell, I was staring at a deserted Hoyts and some very bored teenagers. “What?”

“I definitely see cupcakes. Strange!” At the time I was sure there was no direct competition for that awful The Cupcake Bakery in Melbourne Central.

“Are they...talking to you, these cupcakes?”

It took some heated discussion and fervent Googling to establish that

(a) Cupcake Central had indeed put up sticks in the shopping centre; and

(b) I was not having schizophrenic visions of confectionary.

Please. I would so much more likely take instructions from some dancing rare steaks.

But I’ll admit these cupcakes might have world domination in their sights yet.

Tastings are scored according to an appropriate Thank-Cake-It’s-Almost-Friday! structure: T for texture, C for Cost, I for Icing, A for Appearance and F for Flavour.

Texture: So moist it’s almost as fudgy as a brownie, but with a pleasing smooth crumb.

Cost: $4 per regular cupcake; $2 per babycake (vegan and gluten-free available).

Icing: Like great date dialogue: lightly (cream) cheesy, and lighter still on the sweet.

Appearance: Simple as pie.

Flavour: Full of it. And I liked it that way.

Overall Score: 9/10: out of this world.

Due to absence of forethought, there is no allocated category for wonderment of flavours available. If there were, Cupcake Central would certainly take the cake:

Peanut Butter & Jelly

Jam Donut

Choc Malt Milkshake

Vanilla Vanilla

And of course I couldn’t begrudge the new reigning ‘Red Velvet’ queen a chance to prove herself in some other ways:

Note: A takeaway box will set you back an additional 50 cents!

Bonus for hauling it home: no forks or plates if you're eating in.

Two bad boys for the road: Devils Food Chocolate & Salted Caramel

As we leave Little Cupcakes bleeding in our wake, any suggestions on where I should take this battleground next?