Po’ Boy Quarter: Smith Street’s Most Giant Sandwiches

Po’Boy Quarter
295 Smith Street
Fitzroy
http://gumbokitchen.com.au/

Among the latest crop of storefronts contributing to the gentrification of the half-Fitzroy, half-Collingwood Smith St is Po’ Boy Quarter – Gumbo Kitchen’s new permanent, wheel-less cousin to their eponymous roving food truck.

Po’ Boy continues the New Orleans theme with a menu solely consisting of “po’ boy” sandwiches – giant, crusty subs filled with an array of fried, barbecued and slow cooked meats (and the odd veg option of course). The name allegedly originated in the late 1920s when New Orleans street-car workers were on strike – two former workers-come-restaurateurs put on free sandwiches for the local strikees, dubbed the “poor boys” for obvious reasons, and the name stuck – albeit to the sandwiches. The Louisianan accent did the rest.

Po’ Boy’s po’ boys are massive. That has to be said outright. Sure, the decor is a nice, if not expected, mix of recycled tiles, exposed brick and rough sawn timber, but to be perfectly honest the first thing that struck me about the place was the size of their sandwiches. They are gargantuan. They don’t fit in your average sandwich bag. They come in a box.

I went for the deep fried shrimp with coleslaw, and B decided the barbecue pulled pork was her cup of tea. Jay was back and forth between the two, but eventually settled on the shrimp as well. In the interest of balance, we bought Judy a pork sandwich and fries to share. Other options included slow-cooked beef ‘debris’ and deep fried tomatoes for the vegetable-inclined.

The pulled pork po’ boy isn’t for the faint of heart – or patients suffering lockjaw.

Getting your mouth around one of these is no simple task. We all resorted to picking off the top first – the deep fried shrimp were crispy and delicious, dressed in a ridiculously good mayonnaise of some description, while the pulled pork was drenched in a barbecue sauce that gave me instant food envy (I’ve since been back and can confirm that the pork is my current favourite).

Balancing things out for us was a rugged coleslaw with apple, while the porkys got a mixed salad in theirs. To our collective surprise, we all discovered a giant, whole pickle lurking at the base of our sandwiches, all of which were devoured with gusto.

I can’t even remember what the fries were like, but suffice to say they tasted delicious when dipped in the pork sauce. In saying that, I could eat just about anything like that.

The only complaint was the quality of the bread – considering the number of quality bakeries locally, the bread was not as fresh and soft as it could have been. A minor gripe though, and we’ll chalk that up to either teething problems or perhaps a faithfulness to the true ‘po’ boy’ aesthetic.

Jimmy Grant’s: The Best Souvlaki in Melbourne?

UPDATE: R has offered an insight into what makes Jimmy’s the perfect souvlaki.

Jimmy Grant’s might just make the best souvlaki in Melbourne.

I know that’s a big call, but after today’s Foodie Friday you’ll find one office full of people who’ll agree. To illustrate, instead of a regular blog post, we’ve asked everyone who sampled their Greek delicacies to contribute a sentence on the topic below.

A quick background – Jimmy Grant’s is yet another brainchild of George Calombaris, perhaps Australia’s most recognisable chef. Whatever your opinion of MasterChef (I’m sure that I’m in the minority of people who don’t consider it a religion), or even of George’s establishments to date (some of us have mixed views on Hellenic Republic’s service), you would have to have a heart of stone, and tastebuds of ash, to not enjoy the souvlakis that dominate the menu at his new takeaway joint.

Our first attempt to visit was shut down rather unceremoniously when we were informed last Friday that they weren’t yet open for lunch, only evenings. A further full week of anticipation came to a close this Friday when we successfully phoned in an order of:

• 4 ‘Mr Papadopolous’ lamb souvlakis
• 3 ‘The Bonegilla’ combination souvlakis
• 1 ‘The Patris’ prawn souvlaki
•  3 Cypriot grain salads
• 1 Jimmy’s dimmys

All in all, it was incredible. I’ll leave the rest to my dear colleagues to froth over.

B: If there is but one truth I have learned during my time in the matrix it is that gourmet food is always smaller. The more you spend on your food, the smaller it will be and the gooder it will be also. Jimmy Grant’s proves this rule and does so without breaking the bank. I’m not going to lie, on first impressions I was a little bummed when I received the teeny tiny little package of souvlaki from Jimmy’s, as I, like so many, have been brainwashed to think that souvis are above all about value for money, and are destined to rot half-eaten in the fridge for the following week and a half before the overwhelming reek of garlic is shifted by your housemate into your unassuming neighbour’s green bin. Luckily, Jimmy’s souvi ended up being the absolute perfect size and I ate it all in one hit. It wasn’t too heavy, the lamb was tender, the mayo was mustardy, I didn’t feel sick afterwards (yes, it’s always the souv and not the beer that pushes me over the edge), and the garlic hadn’t been sitting in lockup for five weeks before getting used. Pretty damn awesome.

J: The lamb, the LAMB!!!  So tender. The chicken!  The chips!  And all wrapped up in a parcel of puffy pillowy pita goodness TOGETHER!  Genius. The grain salad, oh holy mother of salads with your fresh coriander and parsley sweet currant loveliness and thick greek yoghurt…I love this souva so much it could be my new girlfriend. I’m all out of superlatives.

M: I was the eater of the Patris and would describe this souva as a pocket rocket – an explosion of culinary flavours, bigger enough to satisfy and delightfully without  repeated aftertastes.

O: Sublime combination of tender lamb and chips with a hint of mustard puts this in the pantheon of greatest souvlakis I have ever tasted!

R was not available for comment – perhaps because it rendered him speechless, or because he had deadlines due this week. I guess we’ll never know.

EDIT: As previously noted, R has contributed an entire article to his Jimmy Grant’s experience.

S

Related articles

• My Big Fat Greek Day (dishful.wordpress.com)
• The 15 minute Souvlaki (Shish Kabob) (thegrecianneworleanian.com)
• The Perfect Souvlaki – it’s pure mathematics. (fitzroyfoodiefridays.wordpress.com)

La Foodie Friday #FAIL: La Parisienne Pâtés

La Parisienne Pâtés
290 Lygon Street
Carlton
https://www.facebook.com/pages/La-Parisienne-P%C3%A2t%C3%A9s/138406699555975

An hour after the last, miserable crumbs had been wiped from the squeaky laminex kitchen table and from the bright green plastic chairs that appeared even more ghastly after such an inadequate lunch, I got an apology from my boss. She wanted me to know that, even though it had been at my suggestion, she didn’t blame me for the Foodie Friday fail. She had just been really upset, disappointed and hungry, and it’d taken her an hour to get over it.

To be fair, we didn’t get off to a good start. Amidst the carnage of annual reports, our Foodie Friday research which usually starts on Monday had fallen by the wayside, and we’d had to make a desperate last-minute decision. At my suggestion, we chose La Parisienne Pâtés on Lygon St – a French charcuterie and delicatessen abundantly filled with cured meats, cheeses, terrines, pâtés and macarons.

Although I had been there before and had been moderately happy with the homemade burgundy pie I received, this time there were omens. Charlotte said she had thought it was average and didn’t recommend it. Rick’s car, the Foodie Friday transportation unit, was blocked in by City West Water labourers in the back lane, and when we did finally get out and drove up to Lygon Street we had to drive around the block twenty times before finding a park. Really, we should have given up there and then.

When we finally made it to the deli, we were met with a plentiful display of deliciousness. We sampled the salami and sopresa. Delicious. We sampled the homemade terrine. Divine! Thank goodness, we thought, we’re onto a good thing. How wrong we were. We promptly ordered four burgundy pies, a chicken and mushroom pie, two baguettes with rabbit terrine and cornichons, a tiny salad (i.e. lettuce) which cost $8, a chocolate éclair and a piece of lemon tart. While they put everything in bags, Scott went all the way down Lygon Street, ordered two coffees, waited til they got made and came back. Perfect timing *cough*. There was no homemade relish to go with the homemade pies so we took with us some ordinary tomato sauce in plastic containers for 50c a pop.

Piling back into Rick’s car, I (quite logically, I thought) popped the plastic bag full of Foodie Friday anticipation onto the baby seat for safekeeping. We set off back to work with empty stomachs and lead feet. Unfortunately Rick’s lead foot meant he also had to slam his foot on the brakes which sent one of the baguettes in the Foodie Friday bounty flying onto the floor and spreading its insides far and wide. Amidst our cries and utterances, I promptly gathered the fallen soldier back up and popped the innards back into the bread roll. Brilliant work, I thought. Judy will be none the wiser.

We hopped out of the car, dodging stray pickles and clearing up spilt tomato sauce, sidestepped a syringe (no needle stick injuries) and traipsed back into work where our colleagues eagerly awaited us. Unfortunately…

The pies were cold. As in, they hadn’t been heated.

We put them in the crappy work kitchen oven thing.

We burnt the tops of the pies.

Their insides were cold.

They were mostly pastry.

They averaged four measly pieces of meat each.

The baguettes were sans butter and therefore dry.

Jay cried.

The lemon tart and éclair were alright and the homemade terrine filling the baguettes was perfectly rich and flavoursome, but it was pretty hard to make concessions after such a bitter and unforgiving disappointment.

So, our first Foodie Friday #FAIL. All in all a disappointing experience, though more so for some than others.

B

Related articles

• A Baguette-Shaped Shoulder Bag to Carry & Protect Your Baguette (laughingsquid.com)
• Let them eat baguette. (jackstrawlane.com)

Lune Croissanterie and the ‘croffin’: The dossant has some competition

Lune croissants via Everyday Coffee
33 Johnston Street
Collingwood
http://lunecroissanterie.com

Something important is happening, people. Are you tuned in? Can you feel it? I’ve heard folks talking about the ‘new wave’; a shift in consciousness. Some have referred to it as a global awakening: a divine coalescing of peoples, a merging of cultures, an evisceration of national borders. Whatever you want to call it, people, it’s here. It’s real. It’s now.

Let me explain. A couple of weeks ago Fitzroy Foodie Fridays introduced you briefly to the ‘dossant’ – an inspired cross-cultural hybrid between that buttery French delicacy, the croissant, and the equally delicious fried bread with a hole, the donut, that (according to Wikipedia) originated in the US. The dossant (or cronut) is a revolutionary combination – a bringer of peace, a bastion of love! When eaten, a true phenomenon occurs: the complete dissolution of stress, argument and bad blood between gobbling parties. Oh, and composure. Forget war! You are eating a dossant.*

Today, the Fitzroy Foodie Friday crew discovered yet another world-shattering pastry combination: le croffin. Yes, you guessed it – that would be the croissant crossed with a muffin. Slightly heavier than your average croissant (there’s the muffin influence right there) this was light, filled with lemon curd and utterly delicious. I’d go so far as to say genius. And in actual fact, as I understand, the genius of a former aeronautical engineer and Formula 1 race car developer who flew to Paris to undertake a pastry apprenticeship and who now runs Lune Croissanterie in Elwood.

“So”, I hear you ask, “which is better? Le dossant or le croffin? Is this not the most difficult decision of your life?!” Yes, it may be a dang hard gig. However, after weighing up the virtues of each in a particularly painstaking and scientific manner**, I’ve concluded that…wait…wait…the croffin is even better than the dossant.

Unfortunately for me, completely inconsistent with this blog entry’s poorly thought-through line of argument, my verdict caused a bit of an office brawl.

B

* Please note that holes may appear in this argument if you take my dossant. They will, however, be berry coulis-filled holes.

** Not peer-reviewed.

Related articles

• A Brief History of Foodie Friday To Date (fitzroyfoodiefridays.wordpress.com)
• Top Ten Cronut Impersonators (friendseat.com)

PHO: Pronounced po, poe, poo, foo, fer, fur, fee-fie-foe-fum, for heaven’s sake, let’s just get some!

Super Bowl
252 Victoria Street
Richmond
http://superbowlmelbourne.com.au/

After reading about Super Bowl in Epicure, claiming they produced the “best” pho in Victoria Street, Richmond, I circulate the article to the Fitzroy Foodie Friday group and a quick straw poll is taken:

Me – “Are you in?”

Unanimous response – “I’m in!”

We had a quick look at the menu online in English. Thankfully, they had it in Vietnamese too – where is this ‘bun bo hue’ that the gods speak of? Oh, number 23 – Combination Spicy Hue Round Rice Noodle Soup. It sounds much better in Vietnamese.

Orders were taken, cash collected and Scott and I set off to the Hanoi of Eastern Australia – Victoria St, Richmond.

We park the car across the road from Super Bowl with no loose change for the meter.

Me – “Stuff it! We’ll take the risk of a ticket. Let’s get that soup!”

Meanwhile, some 50 meters back down Victoria St, a stolen car is parked illegally and the occupier dashes across the street to buy heroin, while I run the risk of a parking ticket while dashing across the street to buy soup… I’m really living on the edge.

‘Super Bowl’ looks very unassuming from the outside, but you enter to find a packed buzzing little space with steaming bowls of soup everywhere.

Scott – “What size is that one?  Looks big! Must be the large???”

Me – “Noooo, look at that one!  That’s bigger, that must be the large, so that one is the medium.”

We spot the ‘Superbowl’…. It’s the size of a hot tub!  You feel like stripping off all your clothes and slipping in to the bowl to eat your way out while being titillated by the slippery rice noodles… Maybe one day when I have more than 39 minutes to eat it….

We place our order and advised that it will take 15 minutes.  We head back across the road to scare off rogue parking attendants.  I suppose I should chat to Scott…

Me – “Scott, the website is coming along okay…?” (I regretted the questions as soon as I asked it)

Scott – “Scalability/Responsiveness needs work. Thought they might use Java Script or CSS (?) but they are using some other code, blah, blah, blah, blah…”

Me – “hmmm…yeah…..hmmm….what’s that…?”

Scott – “should we get a beer while we wait?”

Me (thinking – what an amateur soupy! or, in Vietnamese, ‘Pho-y, pronounced ‘furry’) – “I’m about to guzzle a bowl full of hot soup and meat. Don’t need a gassy beer getting in the way.”

Scott (Amateur Furry) – “Good point!”

The 15 minutes are over thank god. Our food is handed to us in a cardboard box the size of a shipping pallet with containers everywhere.  How will we get it in the car? We squeeze back in the car like a troop of clowns stuffed in a Mini and head back to work.

We walk through the office carrying the huge cardboard box full of steamy, aromatic, spicy soup and I feel a sense of pride. Takes me back to when I was 16 – I mean 18 – when I bought my first slab of beer; hoisting it up on my shoulder, walking into the party feeling like a king and winking at the first girl I spot.

We summon the group and begin to distribute the containers. Lots of “oooohs”, “ahhhhs”, “look at the size of that container of meat!” and we tuck in.

Bri – “Look at the sweat on your head Rick! The soup must be spicy?”

Me – “That’s not sweat. Jay is splashing her noodles and soup around in her usual eating frenzy. Feels like I’m walking through an automated car wash.”

Apart from that little interaction and Bri answering her phone while eating Pho (Disgraceful.  Another amateur Furry), the only sounds you can hear are slurping, gulping and mmmm’s of approval. And, just as we thought we had finished, a tiny morsel was found in at the bottom of a bun bo hue container:

Me – “Fee, fie, foe, fum, I smell the congealed blood of an oxen!”

And down my throat it disappeared, like an after dinner mint after a fine meal.

R

A Brief History of Foodie Friday To Date

How did it start? I’m not sure… was it my slightly aspergers-y tendency to talk only about food or like only Facebook pages that involve food? My realisation that my workmates are also foodies? However it came about, Foodie Friday is now a bona fide institution at work. Which, can I just say, makes going to work a whole lot more bearable.

Pre-blog adventures included:

1) Hellenic Republic’s social media $12 takeaway lunch special – like them on Facebook to get their updates, $12 lunch special available Friday to Sunday 12-3pm. The lamb frisee we had that day rendered seven people speechless.

2) Dossants from Movida – the elusive doughnut/croissant spawned by Dominique Ansel’s cronut. Suffice to say that our systems administrator queued for 40 minutes one morning to get his hands on these puppies. They completely undid our usually composed, well-dressed digital comms officer who spilled sugar all over himself, the chair and the carpet, only to stumble from the room, clothes awry and deeply humbled.

3) Masak Masak – Malaysian style hawker food on Smith Street. The hainanese chicken rice was all kinds of good, and the rendang has since been rinsed by many a workmate.

4) Dude food at Rockwell and Sons. Word had it that the double patty smash burger was the way to go – I had a pressed rib sandwich that was so good I kept calling it the pulled rib sandwich in my state of piggy induced euphoria.

5) Super Bowl pho (not to be confused with Super Bowl fur) at Super Bowl in Richmond.  It was carnage on the lunch table, bits of congealed blood and pork knuckles being hurled around. Perfect.

6) Martha Ray’s – Went for the acclaimed pork belly sandwich (recently named one of Melbourne’s best) but the ricotta, meatball and napoli sandwich stole the show.

7) The Dossant. Again. Just sayin’.

J

Foodie Fridays – A Primer in Local Culinary Crusading

Having an office in the Melbourne mecca of hip that is Fitzroy has its perks. Sure, we might occasionally feel underdressed (or overdressed), culturally out of touch or just old, but we are blessed, clever or simply plain lucky enough to occupy an area crammed with cafes, restaurants and other assorted eateries that purvey some of the most delicious food in the city*.

The lack of a meeting room in our office has led to many a sojourn to one of the myriad cafes, restaurants or corner pubs in the area for meetings and catch-ups. It was during one such meeting, at the iconic Little Creatures Dining Room on Brunswick Street, that it was first noted that the minutes being taken were concerned more with how our meals were presented/structured/being eaten rather than how we were going to budget our next project. It seemed our true passions lay not with the work at hand, but with the food in mouth.

It was after several more of these that a unanimous decision was made to formalise this meeting of meals and minds, and Foodie Fridays were born. Once a week, on a Friday, a worthy establishment is chosen by one of our participating staff members, orders are placed and tasty treats are tucked into with the excitement of schoolchildren and the sheer abandon of those with empty stomachs and great expectations. This blog chronicles our crusade against the bland, the overrated and the overpriced, and champions the establishments that deliver enjoyable, interesting, evocative or plain engrossing culinary experiences to our humble staff room kitchen.

We do hope you enjoy it as much as we do.

[*Of course not all of Melbourne’s tastiest food is located within the rather narrow boundaries of Fitzroy proper, which is why motorised transport was invented. As well as visiting favourite local spots new and old, we also explore what we can of the inner north, east, south and west – 39 minute lunch break permitting.]

S