Lowenbrau, the Rocks & Baroque Bistro: reliving Europe

Starting the night with an invitation to the Argyle, a deliberate detour home to dispose car and one (banker) birthday boy was always going to be a good night. Q was the one boy in my Europe trip of 2009 who suffered quite a bit in his decision to travel with 5 other girls. However, I think he did enjoy himself, because he did invite us all to his latest birthday drinks. I trekked out after a long week at work and imminent storm in a show of camaraderie and friendship.

 

Overpriced peach bellini anyone? (perhaps I had a few. Cufflinks of the corporate boy across from the table not included)

After a “couple” of “quiet” drinks, we ventured off for some food/solids to satiate hunger/subdue the effects of drinking.

Naturally, we went to the Lowenbrau.

Reliving Europe or just needing meat? You decide.

I split the Schattplatt with the Handbag for pure indecisiveness and sizing reasons, complete with pork crackling, meats and potato. It did bring me back to my time at the Hofbrauhaus in Munich, complete with giant pork knuckle and giant beer. (Exhibit A below)

We also split a few rounds of drinking beer songs and revelry with the resident German band to relive some moments of our holiday and to demonstrate our knowledge of important cultural lessons of German culture 101. Whoever said travelling around Europe on a coach tour was a culturally barren experience? In any case, we learnt something about the importance of yelling out “Prost” – deceiving the waitresses there into thinking we knew German.

This is not including the other lessons we learnt in our “Busload full of Aussies” holiday. Lesson 1: Do not imitate Hitler. Lesson 2: Do not pinch the butt of your waitress. Lesson 3: Stay away from anyone who violates Lesson 1 and 2. Guilt by association is definitely a concept which has a somewhat onerous burden of proof, particularly in the beerhalls of Munich.

I digress.

Afterwards, we ventured across the street and metaphoric geographic border to Baroque Bistro for dessert. Unlike the raucous revelry of the Lowenbrau, we smartened up and had a very subdued and well behaved birthday celebration with our desserts and one tres chic waitress, who arranged a candle on top of Q’s macaron.

The verdict on the dessert? I had the chocolate tart with peanut butter and banana ice cream which was sublime without being overly wankily deconstructed.

The flavours of the banana ice cream (and yes, the ice cream tasted like banana) went well with the side of pop rocks (of peanut butter?) and the richness of the chocolate tart. The chocolate tart was rich without being overpowering – and nicely sized.

A & the Handbag both had the peach souffle which really tasted like peach and had the fluffy cloudlike texture of a cloud. The Handbag sneakily demolished most of it, though he nicely remembered to offer me some when it was reaching the end of the dish. The coffee macaron and almond biscuits also packed a punch.

Unfortunately the dessert of the day which was fiercely sold by Awesome Waitress did not live up to expectation (along with my photo taking skills – thanks mini camera and bad lighting). Though it was nicely presented in a mini imitation La Creusset, the presentation must have overcooked the chocolate fondant. It was nicely flavoured but did not have the gooey inside. Perhaps it was the hype and the excellent marketing skills of the waitress? But look at the  presentation – surely that can enhance the flavour…no…?

Q unfortunately wasn’t feeling too good by this stage (it could have been the couple of drinks, the company, the 1L stein of beer – who knows). Naturally the girls snuck bites of his creme brulee when he was away from the table.

Friendship (and vacationing nostalgia) has never tasted better.

Asian Cake vs Adriano Zumbo

Asian Cake vs Adriano Zumbo.

Fluffy fruit sponge, $10 from Number 1 Bakery in Chinatown, or something equally superlative descriptive. Fluffy cake, sweet flavours, pleasantly mild in flavour, enhanced by the cream and fruit.

Compare to the indie Adriano Zumbo. Unfortunately I can’t actually remember what was in this, but I remember the sensation of eating it. I remember it being a powerful punch, in your face and a crazy random mix.

Adriano Zumbo is like dating a really interesting indie guy – ever changing, ever popular but sometimes you just want the conservative (Asian) good boy – he won’t ever change, and is kinda vanilla, but it will always be a welcome treat.

That was a terrible analogy.

High Tea: Swissotel – or: why buffets work, despite Twinings tea.

I am not a Twinings snob. 

In fact, it is my tea of choice at work when I eschew the dusty, bitter, sour tea which sits neglected for weeks in the communal kitchen. I eagerly devour the tea as a break from reading contracts; drinking in the relief as an escape from the text on my page about the potential liability that my client faces. 

However, when I am paying $40 for the privilege to sit and eat as many dainty little morsels in the Swissotel, I do want something a little more special than my afternoon teabag in a hot water. 

This is no Tearoom nor Harrods tea – but it sure is a fun experience when celebrating with 20 of your closest and dearest friends. The dulcet ladylike behaviour expected of such an event is quickly superseded by the masses of women descending upon the tables heaped with once forbidden treats. It is like a child in a candy store. Well, for a premium price and with fancy dresses (though there is a table of guests with jeans and tshirts). Luckily the chaos allows one to freely move around the table – perfect for catch ups and merriment – which is the real purpose of such gatherings, really. 

Lindt chocolate fountains; mini quiches; crustless sandwiches, chocolate tarts, mousses, pavlovas; scones – the list of what one expects at High Tea is there, but never quite reaching the exhilarating highs of gastonomic delights. The quantity is all there but the quality? What you would expect from masses of laid out mini treats. 

I wouldn’t come here if you wanted a party in your mouth. Perhaps a happy gathering. However the staff were easy to deal with when booking and were pleasant to deal with, despite an overzealous staff member clearing plates when morsels of scones or quiches were left on the plate during a food-coma-induced break in eating. The hotel staff were eager to accommodate to one guest who was unable to eat egg that day, making a selection of eggless desserts for her without prior notice.

The worst thing was perhaps that food ran out too quickly, being a Saturday, and at a certain point refills stopped – though understandable from a supply perspective. Also, a weird thing when booking for a large group – the Swissotel wanted me to provide my credit card details *and* a photocopy of both sides of my credit card, which potentially meaning faxing over my security code on the back of the card. They were fairly accommodating with my reluctance to provide this level of detail, which was comforting.

A definite winner overall for a birthday celebration here. Just be prepared to fight for your food. 

Lindt, Darling Harbour

Lindt hot fudge sundae @ darling harbour.

Australian Chinese Food at its finest: Fried Ice Cream

I headed up to rural New South Wales over the Easter weekend and dined at the local Chinese restaurant. I am pretty sure that most rural towns in Australia has some token ethnic cuisine, their dishes slightly (or significantly) modified to suit the local taste buds.

Being Chinese, I was usually subjected to the Chinese versions of these restaurants whenever my family and I travelled in my childhood. Even today, most of them feel like they are stuck in the 80s, when Chinese food was one of the more exotic food options out there, before the great migration of other cultures in Australia. Sure, the diaspora of ethnic communities has led to more ‘authentic’ ethnic options, particularly in the cities, where migrants want to experience their ethnic cuisine as they know it back home, not necessarily some Australianised version. However, there is something to be said of Australian Chinese food as its own food type.

Honey Chicken, Sweet & Sour Pork…the good old favourites, even though they are merely an introduction of the more delicate flavours available in Chinese cuisine. However, there is still some skill required in producing these dishes. Just because the audience didn’t grow up on the same ethnic cuisine, doesn’t mean they don’t know good food when they taste it. 

One classic example of Australian (Western?) Chinese food is the ‘Fried Ice-Cream’ dessert. I am pretty sure that Chinese people do not deep fry their Ice cream on a regular basis, particularly as ice cream contains evil lactose for those lactose intolerance Chinese. Unless they are like me, and forced themselves to adapt to lactose over the years. It was a fun experience, but hey, if I can enjoy my cappuccinos and weet-bix in the morning without reverting to soy milk – I consider that 10 years well spent. 

Anyway, I requested the deep fry heart attack in a dish – combining sugar, cream & deep fry oil & bread crumbs. And it was awesome. This particular fried ice cream is my favourite out of all the fried ice creams I have tried. The outer shell is warm and crispy, with a hint of coconut, and when cracked open, reveals the still solid milky ice cream underneath. It is unlike the other versions where the restaurants use cake underneath the first layer of batter, in order to ‘protect’ the ice cream from melting and the dish becomes some deep fried cake-ice-cream hybrid.

Caramel covered deep fried goodness…

In my opinion, this dish should only have two layers: the delicately thin crumbed outside or the ice cold milky base underneath. Authentic or not, this is an awesome Easter indulgence. 

Crispy outer, creamy frozen inside…

This dessert sure isn’t red bean rice dumplings or a plate of cleansing fruit, but it sure tastes good. Does it really matter if it isn’t genuine bona fide Chinese food?

This Chinese Australian doesn’t think so. 

Chocolat Chaude, Paris, December 2009

Hot Chocolate & Gelato at Amorino near the Bastille when I was in Paris in December 2009.

I had the velvety rich chocolate, less dairy based than Australian hot chocolate. I only sampled the Gelato unfortunately, but was tasty!