Another w(h)ine

We've had the Inequitable Wine Experience, easily explained by the fact that we were in a cheap noodle joint, where just getting served is more important than matching wine glasses. And we were northside - you expect odd and surly. It was the other side of the river, however, that offered up the Weird Wine Experience.

Journeying far from our native Brunswick for a friend's farewell drinks, we found ourselves near a distant shoreline, at a pub called Hotel Nest (formerly, I'm told, the Red Eagle) in Albert Park. It's Saturday night. It's a warm day. We're out for classy drinks in a pub full of frills, heels and Marc Jacobs. So I ask, 'Can I see a wine list?'

Bartender: No, we don't have one, sorry! But I can run you through it. What do you want?

Me: Well, I want to see a wine list so I can choose. Never mind, I'll have a beer.

A glance at the taps - Pure Blonde, Kroenenburg, not a boutique brew in sight - has me turning back to the bartender.

Me: OK, what's your house white?

Bartender: We've got quite a few! There's a sav blanc, a riesling, a pinot gris, a chardonnay, a verdelho, gewurztraminer...

Me: Fine, what's the pinot gris?

Bartender: Well, we've got two...

By now, I feel like I've moved into some bizarre dichometric puzzle. After minutes more discussion, we came away with a glass of Innocent Bystander pinot gris, and a pot of Asahi, served in the kind of cheap, ridged glass I'd expect to see at a fill-your-own-water station in a cafe, for $18. (So asking if they had anything for $6 a glass probably wouldn't have got me anywhere!)

I have the feeling that if you'd asked for the wine list when the venue was the Red Eagle you probably would have been asked not-so-politely to leave, or at least to harden the fuck up and order a pint. You can't do either now, since they also don't serve beers in 'big' glasses. But seriously, if it were the Red Eagle and the wine on offer was from either of the casks you could see perched between the pitchers behind the bar, I could understand them not wasting the ink. Otherwise, print the darn thing out!

A standard drink

SG and I headed out for a mid-week local noodle fix. The venue of choice was Noodle Kingdom, but the discussion here is not about their hand-stretched specialty, nor the enormity of their serves, nor the bizarrely relative pricing of items on their menu ($11.80 for a plate of veg, $9.90 for beef and noodle soup).

No, the discussion here is on the relativity of their wine serves. To accompany our steamed beef dumplings (each of the half dozen the size of a mouse your cat would shy from) and spicy pork with fried noodles, I ordered a glass of the house red (at $22 a bottle, you can eat for two, have leftovers for lunch and get nicely tipsy for under $40) and SG a glass of the slightly pricier sav blanc.

Here's what we were served:
Luckily it was the owner of the glass on the left who was driving home.

Western Australia

As we've already discovered in South Australia and Tasmania, making travel plans centred on Australia's great wine regions is a sure way to develop a holiday punctuated by exciting tastes and experiences.

Margaret River is a special region, situated so close to some truly stunning coastline features, with crystalline beachs of aqua, turquoise and white, and phenomenal limestone caves with hidden entrances and enchanting, glittering interiors. (Happy to stand corrected on this, but is it also quite a bit flatter than other wine regions?)

The Cape Dutch-style buildings at Voyager Estate proudly display their construction date of 1996. With the food on offer inside, however, here's hoping they are able to one day indicate a rather longer heritage! The menu descriptions leave you well-prepared for the price when you get to the end, but if you've got the funds, it's worth it. It's rare that a meat dish can be presented with such visual appeal that it's a shame to cut into it, but they achieve that with the (world's largest) mustard-rubbed pork cutlet with Persian fetta crumble (yes please!), celeriac mash and roasted apples. That's right, apples, not potatoes (no, the cider from Saturday's festival at Kellybrook hasn't addled my recollection!).
I'd been dreaming of a tasting plate of local produce, picked at while gazing onlawns rolling away to rows of vines dreaming of autumn. Voyager's 'breads and spreads' allowed a close approximation: toasted slices of their own bread with venison chorizo and a range of house condiments, olives, dukkah and oil. Oh, was I happy. While I normally eschew venison, this chorizo was superb. The star of the condiments was eggplant kasundi (can anyone offer more info on kasundi?). It's essentially eggplant pickle, with onion, chilli, lime, ginger, sugar, five spice, vinegar, cardamom and oil. (My taste detectors aren't that good - I read the label on a jar!)
Several breweries have sprung up in the region as well. Bootleg Brewery describes itself as 'an oasis in a desert of wine', but there are more of them around than you might expect. Their tasting tray of six beers is a very reasonable $12, and the setting in which to sample - under awnings or at a generous table by the lake - is entirely congenial. While sipping, one can sup on dips, enormous burgers skewered with a steak knife, fish and chips battered with house Pils (left), or daily specials including a curry, or in our case, Mediterranean vegetable risotto.
Speaking of breweries, Little Creatures is a WA export likely to outlast the commodities boom, and its headquarters in Fremantle are, dare I say, an experience not to be missed. Housed in a couple of mills' worth of port-side real estate, the barnlike Little Creatures Dining Hall serves their signature beers straight from the silo. On busy nights, patrons 'register' for a seat (with a number displayed on a snorkel, flipper, etc) and wait for their number to come up on the 'seating blackboard', heralded by a ship's bell.

The woodfired oven pumps out some classy-sounding pizzas such as chorizo, sweet corn and danish fetta, or zucchini, gorgonzola and semi-dried toms. One of their signature dishes is proscuitto-wrapped tiger prawns (right), which serves up eight satisfyingly plump prawns, each blushed with a paper-thin, swallow-and-miss-it piece of proscuitto. Our second choice, marinated kangaroo and tomato chutney, brought another set of moreish, skewered meat to the table.

Returning to Little Creatures in full sunlight a day or two later, we took advantage of their free bike hire offer (also available at their Melbourne site on Brunswick St) and rode these slightly dubious, but sturdy enough, vehicles up the coast to Cottesloe Beach, about as pleasant a way to spend the afternoon as I can imagine.

Daringly, Mad Monk has set up an ambitious space on Fremantle's South Terrace, where they push their own pale ale in direct competition with Little Creatures' founding product. They've purloined a large property on Fremantle's renowned restaurant strip; one renowned for all the touristy, rather than gastronomic reasons. It's more Lygon St, Carlton than Lygon St, East Brunswick, replete with local institution Ginos, which would undoubtedly serve up a fine bowl of pasta, but you could eat at University Cafe back home instead :)

It would, seem, however, that there's only so long SG and I can go without a pizza, so for our last dinner we headed to Sandrino, just across from Ginos, on Market St. Their pizzas feature the thicker-style bases, but the dough is sweet and fresh and they've taken a little bit of time putting together combinations of pizza toppings. On the left we have roast capsicum, eggplant, ricotta and salciccia; on the right is a pizza special with chicken, bacon, pinenuts and aioli hiding under the spinach. At about $18 each, with local wine available from $6 a class, we were quite satisfied with the arrangement.

Market St, for me, is where it's at in Fremantle. Closer to the station are a clutch of reputable cafes, including Long Macc (great name), and the delightful Hush Espresso (32 Market St). With glass frontage, including a hutch for those stopping by for takeaway coffee, this cafe is small enough that you can read the blackboard menu from your table, but big enough that there's space to pay at the counter without elbowing other diners. There are some fine-looking focaccias and muffins on display, and for breakfast diners are spoilt for sweet choices featuring organic bread and brioche.

Pancakes with berry compote are positively lathered, and could probably have done with a good dose of maple syrup to sweeten up the berry tang and lighten the dough load. French toast, with brioche, raspberry jam and mascarpone, was delightfully presented, the 'soldier' pieces allowing for well-controlled bread-to-condiment allocation.

One thing I learnt on this trip interstate may not concur with the current thinking of some of my blogging brethren, but I do now believe that we are protected in Melbourne from the worst of menu-pricing excess. In Dunsborough, a regional town of around 4000, we had the choice of half a dozen restaurants asking $30+ for the majority of main meals (pastas, maybe $25). One restaurant/wine bar had a $44 steak on the menu. Some of the highest echelon restaurants in Melbourne ask that, and I just couldn't trust that I could walk into an unheralded tourist-town restaurant and feel that I would get over four times worth a $10 steak and pot at the Rathdowne Tavern.

Coffee prices are in a similar state. I paid $3.80-$4 for coffee, including at one cafe where a waitperson (who mercifully handed over the barista reins immediately after!) asked 'What's in a cafe latte?' Some of the coffee was very respectable, but I can get great coffee for $2.50 in Melbourne, superb coffee for $2.70 and astonishing coffee for $3.

What I can't do is swim in the ocean in late April...

McLaren Vale: Market 190; Settlement Wines

Market 190: 190 Main Rd, McLaren Vale; 08 8323 8558
Settlement Wines: Seaview Rd, McLaren Vale; 08 8323 7344

A day in the vineyards can be as good as tourism gets. Trestled hills entice you to explore, roses nodding their approval at the end of wine rows as you pass by. Picking the right cellar doors to visit allows you to not only indulge in sampling wines to your taste but also converse with people who tended the grapes, filled the machines at harvest, and nurtured the wine through tanks and testings to the finished product.

Happily, across the world wine and food appreciation go hand in hand, so on top of the oenological experience one can more often than not eat exceptionally well too. It's important that the two go together: it exercises your full taste palate, but, more than that, you also need that sustenance from top-quality produce to get yourself through the tiring business that is wine touring!

The town of McLaren Vale offers a range of food outlets along its Main Street. Set back from the road, Market 190 would be easy to miss, or mistake for a household setting up for a party. As you cross the porch, however, a specials board confirms that this is more than a residence: pancakes with caramelised apple, maple syrup and ice-cream. It was a sign on the footpath, however, that had led us to investigate further: Barista of the Year.

It's a title well-deserved: their coffee is superb. Light brown with a finger-width crema, perfectly roasted and extracted to give a drink bitter with caffeine, but sweet enough to need only a touch of sugar. A very happy start to the day.

The pancakes themselves were excellent: fluffy and, as the picture shows, firm enough to hold their shape. The apple was a great flavour addition, but it would have been better peeled - with the flesh so soft after the cooking process the peel retained some sharp edges! It was an amazing contrast with the pancakes we encountered in Glenelg.

The conundrum of a vineyard trip is volume. Three vineyards is enough in a day if you don't want to exhaust your palate. When one of those vineyards is d'Arenberg, you could retire, sated, to your B&B after visiting just one - they have around thirty wines on tasting, from entry level Stump Jump to the sumptuous Dead Arm shiraz. Exhibiting admirable restraint, we were able to visit Maxwell Wines (also pouring a fine range of mead); Coriole (who have planted the rare Roman Fiano grape; make a booking for their lunch platter); Fox Creek (try the Vixen - sparkling shiraz cab franc); and Pennys Hill (also the cellar door for Mr Riggs and Black Chook - tough place to visit last!).

Lunch was at Settlement Wines, and was as happy an affair as breakfast. They offer four or five pizzas, with all the best of toppings, and sell their wines by the glass, starting at just $5. Our basil, proscuitto and bocconcini pizza was a perfect bracket to the day, enhanced no end by our outlook (above), and buoyed by a glass of Red Dingo, a semi-sweet red wine.

Mi Corazon II

462 Lygon St, Brunswick East; 03 9384 6153

Mi Corazon is coming up for its second birthday, having opened at New Years 2006. Its been pleasing to see it maintain and grow its clientele during that time. A lot of thought and effort went into refitting the site (which used to be a cafe), as noted when we visited just after it opened. It's a big space, and outside of the Little Spain belt of Fitzroy it's not a model that features regularly in Melbourne's suburbs, whether inner or outer, so it's good to see what they have on offer being embraced.

And what do they offer? A lot of tequila; a succinct range of cocktails (mojito - $12); a range of South American beers from $7.50; a thoughtful winelist featuring local producers; a range of seating from window stools and U-shaped couches at the front, to restaurant tables and a beer garden at the back; and a short food menu that promises familiar South American dishes, done authentically.

One of those dishes is mole (pronounced mo-lay, as in the end of guacamole), a dish spoken of in reverential terms by those who have sampled the real deal, and by which people are usually referring to mole poblano, a savoury sauce famous for featuring chocolate as an ingredient. (Mole can refer to a range of sauces or dishes in Mexican cuisine.) Mi Corazon's version features ground nuts and radish, with dark chocolate melted in at the end.

It arrives as a dark mass, lathered over chicken and topped with drizzles of sour cream, sprinkles of cheese and rings of sliced onion. Its reputation is such that one might expect something dynamic and taste-bud redefining; however, its renown owes more to subtley than sensation. The nutty flavour is a natural match with the chicken, and the radish adds a gentler piquancy than onion would. The chocolate kicks in a hint of bitterness and smooths the texture. Perhaps all three elements were slightly too far on the subtle side, and the chicken, to me, seemed a little dry, but I often find that with Mexican food, so it may be due to the cooking style.

Tacos campechanos - with beef and chorizo - deliver more latino sizzle, particularly from a super-hot side dish of dressing. The lean meat was moist and, while suitably spiced, wasn't fiery. Three soft tacos nestled one another and held their own against the dripping juices - Old El Paso could learn something from their construction! Tacos are always a revelation when they don't arrive slathered with sour cream and dripping with oil.

It's not super-cheap food - the mole is $20 and the tacos a little less - but it's the worthwhile price of authenticity. Staff are welcoming and the whole venue has a local feel: there's always someone at the bar who has worn their own groove on the counter.

Mi Corazon have a fine sangria on offer as well, available by glass or jug. It's a deep, deep garnet red in colour and not too sweet.

Seasons broadened by the bean; Gerald's Bar

386 Rathdowne St, Carlton North

It was fitting perhaps that the year's first sighting of 'fresh' broad beans on sale came from a blogger by the name of Fatty McBeanpole. Certainly more fitting than the availability of a spring speciality in the deep of a Melbourne winter.

The broad bean season is tantalisingly short. For just three good months can devotees take them home, to first break the beans out from their implausibly fluffy cocoons, then squeeze the inner bean free after blanching. The end product - a bright green, fat crescent of legume - teams to great effect with lemon, artichoke, paprika, chicken, white wine or stock and in risottos.

On the first evening in months that lacked the bite of southerly air and instead encouraged hope for warmer gusts from the north, the Bean of Wonder showed up atop a hunk of braised pork with apples at the super-groovy Gerald's Bar.

The bar itself is long, curved and supported by a weave of wooden slats. Tables and chairs sit under lace-curtained windows; a meat-slicer is overseen by a huge David Bailey portrait at the far end. Vinyl remixes spin smoothly and quietly. A shelf running the length of the bar stocks a formidable range of spirits; vodka and gin are kept chilled in an ice bucket for expert handling with mixers and in cocktails. The first sparkling and first three reds and whites ordered for the evening become that day's by the glass, a policy that can be a blessing for patrons feeling short on decision-making power. Gerald's has a superb wine list, with potential by-the-glass prices ranging from around $8-$40. There's an international range of beer as well.

The day's menu is scrawled on butcher's paper then clipped to a ladder on wheels that you might expect to see in a library, so that it can be wheeled to customers' vantage points along the bar. While Gerald's is definitely a drinker's bar, this succinct menu offers perfect accompaniments. Half a dozen small plates come at $10 each: maybe Polish sausage, wagyu prosciutto or a welsh rarebit - an appropriately hunky piece of sourdough, with rich cheese, just a touch of English mustard and a good dose of pepper. The pork main meal, at $15, is superb value. A hefty, thick piece of meat has been braised, retaining tenderness and texture, and served in a sauce of its own juices with an understated apple sauce.

It's an incredibly comfortable place, one where you want to settle in for a couple of wines, switch to cocktails and maybe finish with a brandy, having also worked your way through the menu. Sure Carlton is our own little Italy, but this bar mixes the best of Melbourne and Europe as naturally as the seasons change.

Markov Place

350 Drummond St, Carlton; 03 9347 7113

A laneway entrance; leather banquette seating interspersed with tall tables and bar stools; giant-size posters spruiking revolutions; Melbourne's funkiest light fittings (large, rectangular shades pasted with newspaper cuttings); and extremely fine food and wine service. Carlton's Markov Place has got it going on.

The bar/restaurant is a cross between a gallery and a cellar: it's only one room, so the whole atmosphere, in part set by the poster'art around the walls, is appreciable in the way of a suburban artspace. The tall ceilings and stone floor, as well as the fact that it's downstairs from the adjoining (recommended) cleanskin shop that faces onto Drummond St, gives its patrons the feeling of being underground.

Amongst all that atmosphere is the chance to sample a succinct, thoughtful menu and a very sophisticated drinks list. The menu extends from sides such as fries and aioli for $8, through to snacks around the $15 mark and mains in the mid-$20s. Late on a Friday, our order, to share, served our post-pub pre-gig hunger well: aforementioned stringy fries with a serviceable aioli; pan-fried scallops with chorizo, lemon thyme and chilli, served on sourdough bread; and autumn mushroom bruschetta with manchego.

The scallop and chorizo dish was every bit as good as its description sounded. The bread - soft and pliant in the extreme, with a knife-challenging crust - could only have been made that morning. It soaked up the oil running from the sliced chorizo and bulked up each bite of scallop, an annoyingly bite-sized type of seafood (in that it tends to disappear all too quickly!)

The mushroom bruschetta was a triumph - a mound of seasonal fungi spilling off yet more sourdough (we'd had two complimentary slices with oil as well), out of which also tumbled some spinach. Slippery jack, shiitake, swiss brown and pine mushrooms had all soaked up a generous amount of oil and butter and the variety lent a wonderful delicacy to the flavour, set off by the creamy Spanish cheese.

Along with the food menu came a list of today's drink specials. Conveniently divided into 'before', 'during' and 'after', they offered an intriguing diversion from the usual. Cocktails are all too often out of reach of the frugal consumer, but many of these drink specials were well under $10. While a mojito with vanilla and aniseed was hard to turn down, a mix of cachaça, ginger, lime and chilli won the day. Each ingredient was immediately distinguishable in every mouthful, yet at the same time it delivered one, united flavour.

Particular notice needs to be made of the service at Markov Place. The waitstaff were knowledgeable, friendly and interested. They were keen to talk about the specials and offer recommendations. Not long after we'd been served a waiter came over to let us know the kitchen was closing in five minutes and ask if we wanted any more food or desserts - it wasn't pushy, only helpful. A curious inquiry as to the range of mushrooms had the waiter, unprecedently, offering of his free will to check the list with the kitchen. They were receptive to feedback and generally looked happy to be there; as were we.

www.markov.com.au

Baker's Delight

Forgive me for having a Women's Weekly moment, but would you look at what I whipped up in the kitchen the other morning?This cider crumble slice came out of the oven looking fit for a country cookbook. The recipe asks for alcoholic cider too, so it's a wonderful excuse to have a drink while you bake (come on, it would be wasteful not to).

The recipe produces a doughy base from a small amount of butter, heated cider, flour, egg and ginger. One then melts more butter, along with sugar and golden syrup, stirs in a cored, sliced apple and spreads it on top of the base. Finish off the bottle of cider while it's baking!

While we're talking cider, is everyone aware of Henry of Harcourt? They produce exceptional apple and pear (Perry) cider. Any very long-term readers would know of my delight in pear cider, discovered in Estonia, and I'm thrilled to be able to source it here from such a commendable producer.

www.henrycider.com

Mrs Parmas

25 Little Bourke St; 03 9639 2269

I’d seen mention of Mrs Parmas in Dishlicious in the A2 – as a pub in Little Collins St specialising in parmigianas - and was reminded of it at Wicked Sunday (that delectable new feature of the Melb Food and Wine Festival), where they had a stand as part of the Microbrewery gallery.

Why did a parma restaurant have a stand amongst Victoria’s microbreweries? Because in addition to serving up Melbourne’s most gourmet version of the traditional pub treat, it is also an all-Victorian bar, selling a range of locally brewed beers on tap and by the bottle – a very commendable policy indeed.

Firstly to the food. Any couples dining on a small appetite should definitely order one to share – these parmas are HUGE. And not huge in that ‘oh my god, there is so much saturated fat and questionable meat product on my plate I’d best drink more so it becomes more appealing’ kind of way. All their parmas are made fresh, the sauces are homemade, and you know you’re consuming quality produce.

Our topping selections were the Original (ham, cheese, napoli sauce) and Matriciana (olives, chilli (undetectable), cheese, napoli sauce). While beaten thin to schnitzel thickness, the chicken was still substantial, and the ratio of meat to crumb was much better than some more questionable schnitzels I’ve eaten. The sauce had a real tomato kick, not over oiled, and the olives added a great saltiness. There are about 10 toppings to choose from, all available with either chicken ($18.50), veal ($22.50) or eggplant ($16.50). Being quality conscious as they are, Mrs Parma also offers gluten and egg free pastas. There are also a small range of steak and seafood dining options.

And now to the beers. We first sampled Gippsland Gold and Grand Ridge Pilsener, and couldn’t go past them for the second round. Both were delicious. The Gippsland Gold was an almost bright yellow, with a citrus crispness. Very refreshing to drink, but still with a full flavour. The Pilsener was darker, with a malty taste that almost made it caramelly. Both are now on our list to have in the house. The bar also serves beers from CBD breweries such as Three Ravens, plus Holgate in Woodend and others from around the state. There are half a dozen each well-priced red and white wines available, though I was surprised they didn’t go all-Victorian on those as well.