The Breakfast Club

206 St Georges Road, Northcote; 0418 379 911

It's amazing what a cafe can do in a small space to sate suburbanites. Amazing too just how many gorgeous sets of retro crockery are around for said cafes to utilise to good effect.

This tiny cafe, tucked away amidst flats, houses and the odd shop on St Georges Rd could one day be as definitive as its namesake film. There may only be three or four tables inside, but the menu makes up for the lack of seating choice.

For breakfast, try the Cinna: how about stewed fruits mixed with yoghurt, served up with souvenir teaspoon in a glass bowl for ladling over cinnamon toast. Or if you want the savoury side of things, try more make-your-own-fun with sourdough, avocado, delightful pesto, wonderful persian feta and cherry toms. Oh the combinations! Pesto + feta, avocado + tomato, or all four slathered in appropriate proportions.

Cafe Supreme supplies the coffee and the Club make it well. It's worth ordering tea though, just to see what special pot it will come out in.

I returned not long after our first visit as I just couldn't get the idea of their Banarama dish out of my head: sourdough toast with cream cheese, banana, cinnamon, honey and if you fancy (and why wouldn't you?) Nutella. I thought this serve would be way beyond my capacities, but I was wrong. I could have gone another slice. My only criticism is that is was a bit light on with the honey, but no such problems with the spreadable chocolate. SG went the Nana Date on this occasion: date and banana bread that comes out dense and dark, but sits light and sweet on the tummy.

Najla

102 High St Northcote; (03) 9482 1168

When I mentioned to a couple of Westgarthians that I'd been to 'that new Turkish place' on High St, their responses seemed strangely understated. That may have been because my description of Najla was a little skewed by the wine I'd been drinking across the road at Bar Nancy (Crittenden Pinot Gris - lovely to see by the glass). Najla has in fact been on High St for about four years, and before that had a ten-year stint on Brunswick St. Its cuisine has been described as Moroccan, Lebanese and East Mediterranean, and it's now most firmly rooted as Syrian, since a stint on SBS' Food Safari.

In that excerpt, chef Najla Atmaja prepares Syrian national dish kibbeh, based on bulghur wheat and finely ground lamb mince, served in multitudinous ways. The Najla menu features several similar highlights from Atmaja's native cuisine.

The menu breaks down into dips and bread, mezze, entrees and mains (most also available in an entree size). Some prices might look like a bit much individually, but I think there's enough choice there to order astutely. Remember, too, that this is a cuisine big on protein and carb - beans, rice, cous cous etc - so you'll fill up.

Ful medames was a non-negotiable choice, a north-African dish eaten by riders at dawn to sustain them through a day in the desert. In our case we only required enough sustenance to carry us through another drink at the bar, so we were there for the flavours more than the fillingness!

Traditionally, dried fava (broad) beans are cooked slowly and then set awash in a mix of lemon juice, olive oil and cumin. Broad beans are, of course, a particular favourite of mine, but ful is traditionally made with dried beans. The result is a nuttier flavour. Using the fresh variety would produce something more in line with a risi e bisi, since they wouldn't hold their shape during the long cooking time. At Najla, the ful also includes tomato, radish, spring onion and a yoghurt dressing. Pita bread soaks up the liquid and cups the beans, soft but still holding their shape. Restorative food indeed.

A similar mix of beans and liquid - this time wonderfully pliant chickpeas in a lemon-yoghurt sauce - was the highlight dish of the evening.
Less of a standout was the babaganoush - although rich and creamy it was altogether too smoky. I know that when cooked authentically it should retain that charred flavour - when making baba I cook each eggplant for 10 minutes over the open flame on a gas stove - but in this case the smokiness was too dominant.

The only main we tried was lamb kebabs. Three skewers of sumptiously spiced meat atop a pilaf style rice with almonds, and a dipping sauce topped with pomegranate seeds. At around $25, this was perhaps a little pricey. It is available in an entree size, however, and one skewer less would be sufficient after you've worked your way through a dip or two, bread and some mezze.

Pomegranate features strongly on the menu, either with its seeds scatted jewel-like over dishes, or with the wonderful sweet tang of pomegranate molasses enriching marinades and dips.

Almost as jewel-like in colour was the mint cordial with mineral water I chose as beverage: Very mentholly, but far less irradiating on the palate than it looks!

Credit to the kitchen and floor staff on this occasion too, for taking in three hungry wanderers at 10pm and feeding them promptly and cheerily.

A tale of two burgers; Birdie Num Nums and Northcote Social Club

Birdie Num Nums: 745 Nicholson St, Carlton North; 03 9380 1950 Northcote Social Club: 301 High St, Northcote; 03 9489 3917

Not a likely pairing, I admit, and, while I'm conceding points, I'll say up front that it's actually a tale of one burger and one steak sandwich (with an omelette thrown in).

Birdie Num Nums did not follow the Brunswick Model when it opened in 2006. Rather than opening in a former milkbar, the shop's earlier incarnation was as a butcher. Hefty, twisty, dark metal pillars still support meat hooks, under a ceiling easily high enough to give a full bovine carcass swinging space. The floor is timber, rather than concrete. There's a communal table, window and outdoor seating, and a gorgeous lounge-room nook hidden at the back, replete with recliners and fireplace.

The menu reflects Greek influences, and the gimmick here is to offer a range of pre-prepared lunch options from a display - picture meatballs, lasagne, layered savoury pastries - along with cooked-to-order breafkast dishes. There's some flair on the menu, such as the Egyptian baked eggs - poached eggs in ground coriander and cumin, served on potato, pumpkin and almonds -, but it was the olives in an omelette, along with chorizo and red capsicum that grabbed me.It just wasn't an exciting dish. The edges of the omelette, where it had stuck to the pan, had that crispy-cooked egg texture that I forgive at home but don't want plated up when I'm out. While it wasn't dry, it wasn't nearly moist enough - perhaps they hadn't sloshed in cream as plenty of places do, but then a lighter cooking touch would have retained some runny egg (and maybe avoided the crisp edges). Even the toast - a dense, mealy sourdough from nearby Natural Tucker - came unbuttered. I respect a cafe that doesn't mistake richness/oiliness for guaranteed flavour, but then at the very least offer the customer the chance to splurge or skimp on butter to their own liking!

On the other side of the table, we had a $14 steak sandwich, which defeated even SG's carnivorous longings. The photo's perspective isn't crash hot, but this thing was huge - you can see how tall it is against the pile of chips! A juicy slice of minute steak couldn't weigh down all the lettuce, tomato and cheese that came with it. Almost as incredible as SG leaving about a third on his plate, was the price comparison: $13.50 for my omelette, fifty cents more for the sandwich. With the price of free-range eggs, I have a good appreciation of what a lot of the omelette cost covered, but the sanger definitely presented better value.

The music carried a very eighties flavour - no, not the 1780s of the Dickens' novel played on in the post title - but quite defiantly 1980s. Bonnie Tyler followed by 'We Built this City' isn't everyone's cup of Giancarlo coffee, but it got my dancing feet warmed up for our afternoon engagement: a Guild League gig at the Northcote Social Club.

Meeting friends in the pub afterwards, we sampled a couple of Cricketers Arms Lagers, a fine, dry beer made all the more refreshing by some subtle fruit notes. The NSC does a crafty job of disguising itself as a seedy pub, but its menu dispels the myth. Having already seen burgers delivered, I insisted we order one between the two of us - a good call.
Again, not great photo perspective! The roo burger comes with peppered meat, lemon myrtle and wattleseed mayo, tomato, spanish onion and mixed leaves on toasted Turkish pide. The meat had been perfectly handled and oozed its own juices to mingle with the slightly-citrusy, slightly-tangy mayo. Rocket cut across all that with its sharpness and the super-fresh bread was spot-on toasted to be crisp and soft all at once. At $15, and feeding two, this was great value.

So, all three dishes within $1.50 of one another. Which would you choose?

www.northcotesocialclub.com

The Brunswick Model; Palomino

236 High St, Northcote; 03 9481 0699

Sitting in Northcote's Palomino cafe I found a certain uniformity in its kitout that brought lots of useful descriptors to minds. It's interior is slabby (note, not shabby!): rectangles and right angles make up the bulk of the fittings. Tucked in the back corner is a large, solid communal table with benches on three sides; around the sides of the cafe sharply right-angled laminated tables jut from the walls. Even the front door is recessed in a blocky square.

Crowning the front door is a potted fern. Touches like that, as well as the curved, fan-print-wallpapered bar, break up the blockiness. Similarly, geometric shelves house cute ceramics and far less linear samples of bottled drinks for sale. A deep navy feature wall behind the counter absorbs some of the light from the windows stretching across the full shop width.

Palomino does a strong line in pides (of the foccacia style, rather than than turkish pizza style), mixing and matching classic ingredients like salami, spinach leaves, pumpkin, feta, etc. They've also made a subtle but effective change to the BLT: here it's a PLT, with prosciutto standing in for the bacon. It arrives looking deceptively straightforward, all too readily dispaying its fillings as the top piece of bread toppled onto the plate. But taken slowly, it had a lot to give. Proscuitto offers a sweeter filling than bacon, with that caramelly flavour reminiscent of onions on a steak sandwich. Closer inspection of the bread's inner-side revealed a judicious smear of mayonnaise, though a thinner, darker sauce also dripped during consumption - perhaps a little hit of chutney?

And take it slowly I did, as I wanted time to ponder the entity that is the inner-north Melbourne cafe. Having visited Small Block the previous day, and La Paloma the week before, I'd spent some time pondering adjectives, and found myself re-living the process of writing about any number of local places, commenting on the exposed concrete floors; walls either shabbily unpainted or touched up with kooky decoration; mismatched, reclaimed furniture. Each cafe strives for some individuality, normally through their menu (Palomino, for example, offers 'eggs in their shell' - ie boiled), and while they are removed from mainstream homogeneity, there are marked similarities between so many of the venues in the Brunswick-North Carlton-Northcote rectangle.

Is that a bad thing? The model is one that many cafe devotees thrive on, and the ubiquitous success of every cafe that's opened on Lygon St just in the time I've lived here is testament to the fact that there's a call for it. Are we on the cusp, however, of alternative becoming mainstream? Or, are we blessed to have so many places in easy reach who save money on aesthetics so that they can offer their clientele better coffee and produce?

I'm inclined to think that it's more the latter than the former, but every market has a saturation point, and for purists it's better to back away and think about innovation before that point is reached.

Cafe Bedda

242 High St, Northcote; 03 9482 9420

It's no secret that Melbourne's inner northern suburbs boast higher-than-average densities of restaurants and Italians. Coincidence? I think not. But with pizza and pasta lording it over noodles and cous cous, what does an Italian restaurateur do to make their trattoria top of the list?

Cafe Bedda's first point of difference is to raise the flag of a particular Italian region: the dishes and wines at this High St eatery are distinctly Sicilian. Secondly, its menu reveals neither a pizzeria with some OK pasta dishes, nor an exhaustive examination of Italian pasta and sauces with some mediocre pizzas on the back page. Bedda offers a reasonable selection of both.

On two trips to Bedda, the seasonal specials have impressed. Tonight liver was on the menu as a main, but, tempting as it sounded, when one goes out for pizza there's an imperative to stick with pizza (rather like not ordering orange juice when you 'go out for coffee'). The carciofi entree special, however, was a suitable preamble: a whole artichoke stuffed with breadcrumbs, parmagiano and herbs, eaten rustic-style by plucking out the leaves and scraping off the nutty flesh with your teeth.
Bedda's renowned pizzas are prepared amidships in a modern-looking, double-decker oven emitting a greenish glow from its halogen elements. While the chicory and lemon pizza features in most Bedda reviews, the pizza of choice tonight was the Otto: tomato, pancetta, caramelised onion, cayenne pepper, garlic, olives and parmagiano. Quite a list! Regardless, the toppings were delicate enough for Bedda's super-thin crust to handle. Bedda's style is not to lay on the stringy cheese: the tomato base is far more crucial for holding the ingredients together and the parmagiano adds more tang than tension. Caramelised onion provided a wonderfully sweet offset to the salty pancetta. A rogue pepper seed cropped up on the last bite, turning what had been a pleasant spark of warmth to an unexpected fire. Time for another glass of nero d'avola to quench the heat!

There's a lovely atmosphere to Cafe Bedda: the checked, tiled floor keeps things feeling busy, even when it's not full; while the dark wood furniture minimises the visual assault. It's big enough that large groups can be sat away from quieter couples, but small enough that several tables can watch the pizzaiolo in action. The density of Italian restaurants may be high in this area, but this one is better than average.

Natalia's Greek Cuisine

437 High St, Northcote; 03 9486 3110

Sitting within Natalia's blue-and-white interior feels a little like being underwater; it certainly doesn't sound like it though, as chatter from the predominantly Greek crowd competes with the live bouzouki music.

This is not a restaurant for vegetarians: the menu is divided in entrees (all seafood), appetisers (some of which are meat free), seafood and mains, all of which are meat based. While the $20+ price tag on most of the mains seemed a little high, it was offset somewhat by complimentary additions to the meal and the size of the portions (though surely it's preferable to have the option to be served less and pay less). A banquet is also available for $39 per head.

First to the table were two huge baskets of bread. It smelled wonderful and while it was a little too loafy to be an ideal meal accompaniment it's impressive to know that it's made on site. The bread came with our first appetiser, melinzanosalata (try getting that out correctly first time!), an earthy-green blend of eggplant, capsicum, garlic and olives. Alongside came a triangle of grilled saganaki, wonderfully firm and salty, with the centre just slightly melted.
A main serve of deep-fried calamari was ordered as a joint entree for four. The calamari had been properly cooked, retaining texture without being rubbery, and had just the right amount of batter. For $22, however, one might expect a few more rings, the bonus to the right of the plate notwithstanding - a scallop a la Natalia, served with worcestershire sauce, spring onion and bacon. Where the calamari had been so simply adorned, however, this dressing rather overwhelmed the mollusc.

And so to the meat. For the men, a meat platter for two; for the ladies, two plates of kleftiko: lamb and chicken cooked over charcoals.
Firstly, to the positives. All the types of meat had been cared for: lamb and chicken were decadently oily and as the diced pieces dissolved in the mouth they released loads of flavour. The potatoes that accompanied the meat were superb: laden with herbs, salt and oil and still soft and fluffy; a plate of potatoes plus the calamari would have made for a satisfying repast. The skewered meat on the meat platter was particularly enjoyable and there was certainly an ample quantity.

There were also some negatives, however. Both plates of kleftiko arrived not cold, but tepid at best. These were willingly replaced. The cutlets on the meat platter were a little dry, though with so much carnivorous material to choose from this was not a big issue. A massive bowl of Greek salad, at $6, represented excellent value for quantity. The quality wasn't quite so impressive, however, as it mainly featured lettuce and an acidic dressing, with a smattering of feta and the occasional olive.

Nevertheless, more positive was to come. Once the main dishes had been cleared, after all best efforts had been made to do justice to the portions, an unbidden, but very welcome, dessert arrived. Watermelon was the perfect antidote to all that carb and protein, but the sweet tooth was also sated, with the provision of gooey cigarillos of baklava.

The restaurant offers the welcome mix of being BYO, with no corkage, and licenced (and they stock Mythos beer, very handy for pretending one has escaped to the Mediterranean). The service was more comfortable amongst the Greek speakers, but it was attentive and friendly. Despite a couple of communication issues the staff strove to accommodate our requests (though the plan for a three-stage meal was scuppered with the concurrent arrival of calamari and meat), and while it was peculiar that spit roast meat could arrive at the table less than piping hot, they were sincere in rectifying the problem.

Sigiri

338 High St, Northcote; 03 9482 6114

The Yak was too full to squeeze in two more momo-hunting dinner goers. Just a few doors up the road is Sigiri, whose vacant tables and relatively calmer atmosphere (in comparison to not just Wild Yak but much of High St that night) lured us in. Part of its calm atmosphere was created by notably muted lighting, much of which seeped through red light shades, conditions that were well beyond standard-issue camera equipment. Since it was Eurovision Weekend, however, I've dotted the post with pictures of some of the acts instead :)

Sigiri have an interesting set-up. Each night they run a buffet for $25 per head ($22 on Thursday). This features two entrees (eg crumbed tuna and potato balls), beef, chicken and vegetable curries, side dishes, at least half a dozen types of bread, including hoppers, and dessert. Customers can also dine a-la-carte, though on this Saturday night it was off a limited selection of the normal menu.

Some menu items, including the stir fries (baduma) would take a while to cook, and I was on my way to a movie ('Pudor', at the Spanish Film Festival) so we went with two very straightforward dishes: harakmas (seasoned beef in curry sauce) and kukulmas (boneless chicken in spicy sauce) and a serve of eddi appa, or 'string hoppers'. These are made from a combination of rice flour, water and salt, which is forced through a mould to create the squiggly, latticed effect.

In some ways a combination of the two choices would have made a great dish. The chicken meat was tender and swimming in sauce, whereas the beef was a little (only a little) tough and the dish could have used some more moisture overall. The texture of both sauces seemed to borrow from a gravy style, in that they were somewhat grainy. The beef curry sauce was loaded with cardamon, and the chicken sauce was strongly spiced without being too hot. Neither, happily, seemed overloaded with oil or ghee so while we were both quite full without finishing our serves, it wasn't an uncomfortably heavy feeling.

Wild Yak

350 High St, Northcote; 03 9486 2733

Time to try a new cuisine: Tibetan. Wild Yak in Northcote is a laminex-tabled, plastic-chaired, faded-postered kind of restaurant, run by an effusive native who works the floor with enthusiasm. The food is extremely well-priced, the restaurant is BYO, the atmosphere is simple. It's fundamental international suburban dining.

But what to eat? A bit of research reveals that Tibetan cuisine is based around barley, the flour from which is used to make noodles and dumplings (are we the only country in the world without a national dumpling?). Yak, goat and mutton meat also feature. Wild Yak is no doubt true to the spices and cooking style of Tibetan cuisine, but serves no eponymous meat. Choice instead runs to beef, chicken and, bizarrely, calamari. The menu is broken down in the traditional way of Asian restaurants: entree, soup, then repeated dishes featuring the different meats or a vegie or tofu option.

Momo, the Tibetan steamed dumpling, features first up. It's available as a main (at $9.50 I'd rate it as one of High St's best bargains) but we choose the beef variety as entree (fried and vegetable are also available).My, they were good. The dough was so pliant, but held its shape, even if the lightly-spiced but beautifully cooked meat fell out while one was utilising the dipping sauces. The ying is a soy-style sauce, while the yang was a notably piquant mixture, masquerading behind the appearance of satay.

I had some difficulty choosing a main and enlisted the help of our host. He steered me from the sha gogpa (lean beef with rich garlic sauce) to the sha nyamo-kyurmo (tender beef cooked with lemon, honey, tomatoes and herbs). His recommendation was spot-on. Here we had something that little bit different and very striking. The sauce was rich, perhaps a little runnier than tomato soup, and the balance of tomato with the sweet and sour of honey and lemon was exact. The meat had been treated gently and was indeed 'tender'. The beans and red capsicum were fresh and crisp and I was thoroughly pleased.

Just as well, since I'd been pipped in my first choice by my dining partner, that dish being thukpa: a Tibetan soup with noodles (egg, not barley in this case), beef, chicken, vegetables and 'fungus' (luckily she's a scientist, so is adept at assessing fungal risk and decided to give this one the go-ahead!) in a rich soup.The broth was hearty and not too salty. The dish featured an excellent distribution of meat, veg and noodles to liquid. Maybe a little excessive on the fungus side of things (though not in a health-inspector-concerning way) but that earthy, warming flavour and effect was a big winner.

Two mains, a starter, rice and corkage was $35. I'll be back - those dumplings are calling.

'Hamlet'

Eagle's Nest Theatre Company

Northcote Town Hall is a wonderful community resource: a grand, 120-year-old building, providing a venue for local theatre productions in the small but adequate space out the back known as the West Wing. The theatre seats about 100 people on scaffolded seats, and is an intimate space – always an interesting setting for a production as grand in scale and premise as 'Hamlet'.

During the first scene one could be forgiven for thinking the cast would get through the play’s full four-hour breadth just by speaking very quickly. Happily though those nerves calmed and the abridged version ran at an intelligible pace.

Eagle’s Nest Theatre Company’s take on this greatest of tragedies portrays Hamlet as an intelligent, grieving prince. He is a step removed in mind, though not physicality, from those around him, watching on bemusedly as their lives progress so easily following the death of his father. Its creative director, James Adler, plays Hamlet, and brings erudition and introspection to the role. His classic Hamlet is nonetheless a modern man, grappling with morality and with the weight of power, borne of his royal status and the heaviness of the task of revenge. He is a generous figure, happy in the company of friends Horatio, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, but simultaneously persecuted, perceptibly longing for his allotted task to be removed by some force as ephemeral as the ghost who gave it to him.

Bruce Woolley’s Claudius is excellent: debauched, thoroughly modern in cream disco suit, and wracked with wine-fuelled remorse at his ‘rank offence’. His impassioned prayer soliloquy contrasts sharply with a lack of such an emotional display from Hamlet.

It is hard for women to shine in this play of masculine angst and revenge. Liz McColl, as Gertrude, is motherly in her concern for Hamlet’s madness and distracted by her lust for her new husband, but, as is perhaps expected in a 21st century production, she does not show obsequiousness to either of the powerful men in her life.

The whole play is performed around a set of two regal chairs, two stools, a raised platform that functions as both watch tower and stage, and a sideboard (oft-frequented by Claudius to top up his goblet). With discreet lighting throughout, a meaningful effect is created during Hamlet’s conversation with his father’s ghost: old Hamlet’s hands shadow his son’s face and body, at times to embrace, stroke or remonstrate. This is an effective visual analogy of his insubstantiality, echoing Horatio’s assertion of his existence: “these hands are not more like”.

The plays runs at about 2 hrs 45 mins, with a 20 minute interval (the venue serves its guests well with a satisfying bar of beer, soft drink and wine at $6 a glass, as well as free water, but not so well by selling chips, the consumption of which were a notable distraction during the performance). 'Hamlet' presents a difficulty in that its very length is part of the tension of Hamlet’s inaction, but it must be condensed for this forum. The soliloquies are reduced, and the battle with Poland is not surprisingly absent. More surprising was that Hamlet’s soliloquy when he sees Claudius praying was not included: to some this speech is critical in verbalising his inner turmoil and need for surety before action. However this was an assured and genuine version of Shakespeare’s greatest play, which achieved a pleasing balance between a modern re-telling and an evocation of Elizabethan theatre.