Anticipating the first Taste

An unexciting takeaway lunch in the lead-up to a food festival is oddly fitting. Treat the tastebuds with blandness and boredom so as to allow for an awakening at the hands and plates of some of Sydney's finest restaurants. There's some sense in there somewhere.

I'm so looking forward to the Taste of Sydney festival that I've essentially mapped out my pre-festival eating schedule so as to maximise space in my belly and dollars in my wallet, and minimise the strain on my tastebuds and food appreciation part of the brain. Let's just hope that the weather holds up and doesn't force me to lug an umbrella around, amputating me of a good eating arm.

When I get the motivation I'm going to go on a campaign against boring takeaway lunches. Aside from foods I eat regularly because I love, I'm going to try to eliminate those repeat lunches that are usually purchased because "I don't know what else to have...!"

Today was one of those lunches and despite my love for pastry covered lumps of minced meat, I feel I might be on a bit of a dumpling directive of late.

Boiled dumplings with pork and mushroom from
Daniang Dumpling, Dixon Street, Haymarket

In a strange fusion of franchise and um.., Asian hospitality, Daniang Dumpling isn't quite the efficient dumpling establishment its signage and logo might suggest. Upon entry into the restaurant, the McDonalds-like menu doesn't at all promote dumplings - other than their equivalent of a value meal ($5 extra for a drink and side dish).

A quick squizz at their print menu, though, has an indecisive dumpling lover nervous and hungry. Two full pages of dumplings to choose from, most (if not all) in boiled state. The pork and mushroom option eventually surfaces as the dumpling du jour and I'm told it will be about a 10 minute wait.

Despite the McDonalds feel of the counter the restaurant really quite feels like a restaurant. Or casual Asian eatery at least, given the flatscreen flashing Chinese pop singers. Which makes for some uncomfortable if not awkward standing about for a takeaway customer. I don't much feel like standing in the drizzle outside so I make do with averting my eyes from seated and slurping diners, flicking glances at the cashier as if it would make my dumplings arrive faster, and trying to look at but not watch the television screen (which, for your information, is harder to do than hearing and not listening).

My dumpling condiment of choice is normally vinegar sauce; however I'm in a bit of a chilli phase at the moment. Not sure how or why this came to be as I'm not so fantastic a chilli eater. Anyway, a little container of chilli oil looks just the thing to go with my gnarled and misshapen boiled dumplings, and it actually turns out to be quite the highlight of the meal.

The steaming hot dumplings and mildly excrutiating wait for them indicates some degree of fresh wrapping and cooking. The pastry is a little thicker than I like but defense against a more rigourous cooking method, I suppose, as opposed to steaming. The filling is a pleasing but unspectacular combination of seasoned minced pork, occasional mushroom piece and savoury-sweet soup.

But the chilli oil, which I neglected to photograph, was heavily infused with flavour. Not just that, the chilli flakes added to the oil were charred black, imparting an additional roasted flavour that was quite ingenious. Who needs vinegar and soy when you have roasted chilli?

The dozen dumplings were gone before the steaming stopped and didn't burn a tastebud. All the better for tasting tomorrow night.

Lamb, goats and floats

Fake eyelashes so long and curled that sunglasses were worn halfway down the nose. A pedestrian sprinting across the road in four-inch platform heels. A man walking a charming, little white goat on a leash. A mass of red, white and black, eye-patched, peg-legged people shouting "Arrrr!" in unison. It's Mardi Gras time in Sydney and as much as I love the festivities and general celebration, the mass crowds cramming city streets and footpaths is an absolute turn off.

Sightings of parts of Mardi Gras is enough for me this year as we walk against the crowds in getting to our dinner destination. I feel a little like an explorer going against the tide and conventions to reach unseen parts of the world - that being the less populated end of Dixon Street in Haymarket and a restaurant I've wanted to visit for ages, Uighur Cuisine.

Described as food of the Silk Road, I've tried to explain to and convince companions many a time to eat here with mostly the usual negative responses pertaining to the unknown cuisine of Central Asia and supposed abundance of lamb. Success on my behalf finally finds two of us seated at one end of a large table for eight in the fairly full restaurant.

The crowd is predominantly Chinese but then again I suppose we are in Chinatown still. The menu and signs about the restaurant are written in Uighur, Chinese and English with the staff communicating in all three languages as well. There's very much a family restaurant feel to the place with the young staff reminding me of similar childhood days 'slaving' away with the parents.

We take our time with the extensive, picture-laden menu, flipping over to look at a myriad of meat and vegetable entree and main options, running our tongues over very foreign terms and phrases, and being awed by the $350 whole lamb kebab option. The two of us are regretfully unable to order this as it must be ordered a week in advance.

We finally settle on an order comprising meat, vegetables and carbohydrates and slowly think that we may have overordered as usual. We spy a main dish at the other end of our seemingly communal table that is huge, soupy and platter-sized, looking enough to fill three although that doesn't stop numerous other dishes joining the couple's feast.

As we wait and watch continuous plates of lamb skewers leave the kitchen, the grilled, spicy smell, obvious from when you first enter, further piques our anticipation for the meal. We first whet the appetite with a salad entree - not the gherkin salad that I initially wanted but, nonetheless, a refreshing vegetable respite.

Uighur Hum Sai (salad of cucumber, capsicum, tomato and onion)
from Uighur Cuisine, Dixon Street, Haymarket

It's a bright, fresh salad doused in a salty, mildly sour dressing. It is a good and necessary accompaniment to the meat and carb fest to follow. Our lamb skewers are the next to make their glorious arrival.

Koy Gosh Kawapi (lamb kebabs)

Five lamb kebabs on potentially dangerous flat metal skewers arrive and seduce with their heady, smokey aroma. There's a distinct spicy cumin flavour mixed with the drool-worthy smell of grilling. It's only seconds before we each grab a skewer and attack it feebly with disposable wooden chopsticks.

My first mouthful is an explosion of flavour, perfectly seasoned with a delightful overabundance of cumin and mild chilli heat. However, as I continue to chew the mouthful I realise that the first mouthful could last forever. It's mostly gristle and almost inedibly chewy. And it's not the only piece. We end up playing a lamb chunk bingo of sorts: grinning and chewing appreciatively when scoring a tender piece, quietly chewing and disposing when otherwise.

For all the chewing I can't fault the flavour. It didn't have any of the smell of lamb that can be off-putting, with just the right amount of spice heat and flavour which, although, stayed for most of the night.

Gosh Poshkal (meat bread)

We also had a serve of the simply named meat bread, which was a satisfyingly crunchy, thin flour pancake - moist on the inside and spotted with fine bits of meat, presumably lamb but possibly beef. The flavour was muted, and even bland compared to the lamb, but a simple, filling dish to have on the side and to have me currently hankering for.

Our final vegetable main doesn't eventuate for a long time and upon asking the waiter, apparently never even made it to the order. At this point we're edging on full anyway so cancel the phantom eggplant dish to a little disappointment. The bill comes to an amount less than most the lunches I have about the city so we leave happily with money for another visit soon I hope and re-enter a city night of gaiety and revelry.

Wholesome and healthy Friday night

I think I may have found a solution for the affliction I call scatterbrain. You know, when you've six million things on your mind and your attention skits from one to the next in milliseconds and you feel more like a whirring machine than human. Scatterbrain. And I'm not professing to know any effective long term fix for it. Hell, it's barely a short term fix.

It's beer. Like some magical potion, the first schooner slows down the scattered mind and also reduces the level of worry concerning said six million items. It's especially effective in th early evening time of Friday nights. And despite ongoing declarations and denials of a recession, the pub seemed to be doing alright considering there wasn't a spot to sit or stand in the two-levelled establishment. When times are bad, beer is good. When times are good, beer is good. One must then wonder why everything can't be recession-proofed simply by a spray of beer.

Curiousity got the better of me this Friday night as we ventured for a light meal in Chinatown at vegetarian institution Mother Chu's Vegetarian Kitchen. Think of it as a counterbalance to the couple of pub beverages with friends, politically known as bingeing.

Mother Chu's is an interesting little place which I often see packed with diners - who would have thought there were that many herbivores or curious carnivores? There's a few tables this night and the flow is quite constant for late dinner time.

It feels like a Chinese home dining room or kitchen; something about the laminate tables, perhaps, or the mismatched room decorations. They have these funky wavy and star-like hanging lights that wouldn't look out of place at an inner city suburb cafe or restaurant. They look a little out of place here.

It's a surprisingly extensive menu for a vegetarian restaurant, ranging from little snacky morsels to soups and hot pots and a venerable range of mains. It's not all that easy to make a choice, tossing up between tempeh and tofu, vegetarian 'meats' or actual vegetables. It helps that I'm eager to eat quickly so I quickly whittle down to a page or two and then an order or two.

Deciding between spring rolls or dim sims, I let my companion decide as you can't really go wrong with these, right? Well, that's debatable.

Steamed dim sims from Mother Chu's Vegetarian Kitchen, Pitt St, Haymarket

The dim sims come in steamed or fried options and my companion has opted for the healthier of the two. Three flattish egg pastry-wrapped dumplings arrive on an oval plastic plate that is endearingly, or not so, faded of most of its prior decorative glories. There's a garnish of sliced lettuce, red cabbage and carrot coils and a plum dipping sauce. There's also fork marks in the dims sims from either removal from steaming vessel or actual dim sim ventilation - I'm not sure and it's kind of dark in there, but I'm excited to try my first vegetarian dim sim.

The steamed pastry holds the filling well, but it's the filling that has me looking quizzical. It's mostly orange with couscous-like white-ish bits. I seem to remember the menu mentioning tofu, or maybe not. The grated orange part isn't sweet enough to be pumpkin or sweet potato so we decide it has to be carrot. The overall texture of the filling is a bit grainy but soft. It's rather devoid of a definitive flavour other than vegetables and would have been nicer with soy sauce that the sticky sweet plum sauce. Unfortunately it joins the hallowed shrine of dubious dumplings.

Fuzzy close up of dim sim filling

A few giggles later and very generous offerings for each to take the third dim sim (we end up sharing it), the main arrives with a serve of rice. This main looks and smells so good that I forget to snap a pic until we've already well and truly dug in.

Taiwanese style eggplant

It's a big dish of stir fried eggplant in a rich brown sauce, scattered with loads of fresh mint. I love eggplant in this sort of style as it takes on the perhaps not so healthy oil flavour in the pan. The mint is a great contrasting fresh flavour in a well rounded, soy based sauce. Vegetarian can certainly taste very good.

Our good deed done for the evening, it's about time to head home or maybe, just maybe, for a few more drinks over conversation at the pub down the road. Well, it is Friday night afterall.