Sunday, May 29, 2011

It's My Birthday! (Bob's Steak and Chop)

It is the time of the year again. The day that marks the passing of another year in life. However, the notion of birthdays is starting to make me feel a bit blasé. After twenty of those good days, the significance seems to wane with every passing year. I woke up feeling the same as I did yesterday or the day before.

At least the attention is makes it more special than the rest.

Birthdays are never really celebrated until dinner time. This time round, I opted for a good old piece of steak to satisfy the carnivore in me. Unfortunately, most of the famous steakhouses were fully booked by the time Cherry called for reservations, after she ignored my instructions two days earlier to call then. That blunder aside, she was so sweet as to not have me call the steakhouses myself.

After eliminating about half a dozen steakhouses in her list, Cherry found one that had tables available. Bob's Steak and Chop.

Nine of us met up at the Swanston/Bourke tram stops and took a tram to Southern Cross station, but not before getting some photos.

The women in my life.
A miracle shot of Chris. My set up rarely gets such sharp photos.
Upon arrival at Southern Cross, we had to make our way halfway across the bridge to Etihad stadium and took a long flight of stairs down to the streets below.

Crossing the Southern Cross.
We were a bit lost but after walking a block, we found it, Bob's Steak and Chop.

We walked in and Edwin was already seated at our table, awaiting the glorious arrival of the birthday boy and his entourage.

Good bread.
Before we ordered, the waiters and waitresses served up a generous portion of bread. Having starved myself the whole day, the bread they served tasted so good. The looks of the bread itself is enough to win me over as I am a sucker for sizeable, spherical and soft things. The butter that accompanies the bread is even better, so much so that everyone at the table exalted its smoothness and the richness.

Then, after enjoying the bread, we ordered and started chatting one another up in anticipation for the steaks, as well as getting more photos.

Mimi, Cherry and Henry.
Mimi and Anthony. Somehow Mimi looks great in this photo.
This one takes it all back.
Then came the steaks.

Rib-eye steak (Scotch fillet).
That is not mine.

Filet mignon (Eye fillet).
This is mine. A bold chunk of 110 day grain fed Black Angus that weighs in at 350g. Filet mignons do not come by everyday for me and I enjoyed every last bit of it.

Blood is beautiful.
A wonderful medium rare steak.
Sinking the steak knife into the beautiful chunk of beef felt a bit like ruining a perfect marble sculpture; but when the knife goes all the way through and the blood flows onto the plate, and the reddish pink flesh is revealed, I imagine that is what discovering a diamond in a lump of coal feels like.

However, there is a better feeling - putting that piece of meat on your tongue. I may not be a connoisseur of steaks but as far as I can tell, this is a bloody good steak, literally. The salt and black pepper does not penetrate more than the crust of the meat, thus the meat still retains its juices and that I mean blood. The meat is just tender and does not fight back and turn a dinner into a wrestling match like cheap steaks do. The seasoning is also very mild. Instead of being bombarded by the overwhelming taste of salt and pepper, one can really savour the beefy goodness in this filet mignon. If those features still do not warrant the filet mignon being called an excellent dish, the shallot and red wine sauce definitely makes up in justifying its quality. I shall not elaborate on that, giving it a try is the best way to find out.

The baked potato on the side I was not too happy about. Although the sour cream, chives and bacon filling was good, the potato itself was too damn big. Unless you are a person who runs on that much carbohydrates you would probably find this boring after the first few mouthfuls.

The smashed, not mashed, potatoes is very smooth and buttery. I would pick that over the huge baked potato any time.

The steak fries, to me at least, were great. The crust of the fries is just so crispy while the insides were still soft, just how I like them to be.

But the best of all the sides would be the skillet potatoes, topped with sauteed onions and peppercorn gravy. Probably the most seasoned out of all the potato dishes, it feels more robust in flavour due to the gravy and the sweetness of the onions.

The restaurant definitely gets a thumbs up from me, any day. Nonetheless, the night was still young and we had to cleanse our palettes are kill whatever bacteria from the steak with alcohol. Hence, we made our way back to Melbourne Central station, but again, not before getting some photos.

Suited up.
Can't think of appropriate caption under the influence of alcohol.
We went to this Asian bar called Cho-Gao. It is Asian because of the decor mostly, but more than anything else, it serves cheap booze. The next few hours of the night were just spent drinking and making merry. Some people got high and tipsy, you know who you are, or maybe you were already drunk; while others looked on, puzzled at how some people have such low alcohol tolerance levels. There was also another photography session.

I believe this is camwhoring at it's best.
Display of affection under influence of alcohol makes good black and white photos.
Chris, Keith, Kaili and Jinny.
Beer drinkers.
Sleepy heads.
Before I end this post and hit the sack. I would like to thank everyone who made this day so special. Thank you, Cherry, for calling for reservations and the lovely card you made me. Thank you, Jinny, for the present you never fail to give me every year, despite me not reciprocating. I promise to make it up to you next year. Thank you, Edwin, for being there early for the table and waiting for us. Thank all of you, Keith, Henry, Mimi, Anthony, Chris, Kaili for attending the dinner and paying my share.


I shall leave my thoughts about my second decade in this world for another day.

Bob's Steak and Chop
737 Bourke Street, 
Docklands, VIC 3008, 
Australia.

+61 3 9642 3350

Thursday, May 26, 2011

Treasury Garden

This is going to be a really short post.

I have finished all my assignments for the semester and it feels bloody good. I needed a good breath of fresh air so I headed to the Treasury Garden with Cherry to take some photos.

The usual bench under a tree.
Black and white picture of bench and a road.
Leading line from the right. A bit distracting.
Cherry walking to get a better angle.
Sorry, Pink fashion photography competition participant. I stole this from you.
Lazing around in the autumn leaves.
I just like this photo, although the dog is missing from the frame. Leaves something to the imagination.
Cherry getting wet.
A couple taking pictures of each other getting all wet and excited.
I know I still need to work a lot on composition. I guess practice makes perfect. That being said, I need better glass. The low light in the evenings is a bitch to work with.

Monday, May 9, 2011

Somewhere Over The Rainbow

I was up at six in the morning when I noticed the time on the bottom right of my laptop screen. It was another one of those sleepless nights in front of the computer spent reading, chatting, listening, watching, contemplating, yawning...

I turned to the glass panel on my right and saw that it was just past first light and as I walked toward the panel, three hot air balloons rose from behind the city skyline. To the east, sunbeams peeking through sheets after sheets of grayish clouds, tinted by a sunny orange. As I panned from east to west, there was a vivid rainbow against the cloudy backdrop while hot air balloons were flying across it. 

A breathtaking moment. A familiar tune in my head. 'Somewhere over the rainbow, way up high'.

An inspiration. An epiphany. The world is beautiful when everyone is asleep.

Sunday, May 8, 2011

Mercadante Woodfired Pizzeria

The quest for food continues. This time, we head all the way back to Lygon Street from Old Kingdom for some dessert and drinks. Destination? Mercadante.

Famous for chocolate pizza.
I used to live just next to Lygon Street and walked past Mercadante almost everyday on the way to the city. However, I do hear people talking about the awesome chocolate pizza but somehow I never stepped a foot in there, despite being a chocoholic.

Face-lifted wall.
Mercadante, like any restaurant on Lygon, is just full of burly Italian men eating ridiculous amounts of food. Nonetheless, Mercadante seems to have a less serious air and not reminiscent of some scene from The Godfather. I suppose that is thanks to the strongly lit interior and the nice pictures of Venice on the wall.

Heed this warning, do not go to Mercadante if you are prone to heart attacks. The guy behind the counter plays tricks on unsuspecting customers. Sometimes he tosses a fake spider onto a girl; sometimes he puts on a clown mask and breathes down your neck; sometimes he throws something which looks like a plate at you. Always be vigilant in Mercadante, or you would be scared dead.

Back to the topic, the chocolate pizza.

It was not what I expected.
Pardon me, but when somebody mentions chocolate pizza, I picture a round, thin crust with chocolate sauce, whipped cream and strawberry toppings, not a sliced up dough stick covered with Nutella.

People are going to hate me for this, but the chocolate pizza was just so-so. The pizza was rather tough, and when you chew something resilient drenched in Nutella, it just drips down your lips. Maybe I am the only one who does not like that sensation. Personally, I think they could have done it better with a thin, puffy crust. 

123, Lygon St, 
Carlton, 3053 VIC,

Australia.



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Old Kingdom Chinese Restaurant

Jeremy wanted to treat me to dinner for designing his and Jojo's campaign posters. Before the MUOSS elections even began, he was already telling me about this restaurant.

Jeremy reserved seats for five and two ducks for 8.00 p.m. but in the end there were only four of us. Less men, more share.

I have not eaten Peking duck in a really long time so I did not really have a benchmark. However, during the long walk to the restaurant, Jeremy and Shaegan kept reassuring me that the duck will not disappoint.

At long last, we arrived.

Famous for Peking Duck.
Old Kingdom, is well, old. The building which houses the restaurant, the furniture, the surroundings are all looking almost decrepit. However, this place never gets old for duck lovers and the long queue outside the restaurant puts any argument about that to rest.

I was starving and when the duck arrived I realised that the starvation was well worth it and will be put to good use because the ducks were quite big, and we had a duck to two.

The restaurant owner slicing up the duck.
Still slicing.
And done.
Jeremy going at the duck.
I was exhilarated when the owner was done slicing up the duck. I took some pictures and put my camera to rest. I grabbed a piece of the thin pancake, chose a piece of duck skin, topped it with a piece of spring onion and cucumber, drenched those fillings with a hearty amount of plum sauce, folded the pancake, and took a bite.

That mouthful of duck goodness made me want to belt out a love song. It was just so ducking awesome. The skin was crispy, it was crunchy even. Above all, the plum sauce was just heavenly. It was not overpowering and not too salty as the average plum sauce that goes with roasted ducks. I usually cringe when I have a taste of those. This was just right that I did not mind drenching the duck in a thick layer of it.

Then I tried another piece with skin and meat. The meat was tender. Usually, I look like I wrestle ducks when I try to eat them. Old Kingdom got theirs just right. Not overcooked, and the meat still showed a tint of pink, how ducks should be. The taste was great. In fact, it was so good that I took more pictures of it so I can drool at them when I feel hungry in the night.

Got this on a third attempt.
Then came the second course.

Duck meat with bean sprouts.
The second dish was just so-so for me, maybe because I am not a fan of bean sprouts. However, I do appreciate a little bit of roughage to lessen the guilt of eating half a duck. The duck meat was also well flavoured. I just like to pick out the duck meat and eat them separately from the bean sprouts so that the latter does not overpower the former.

After that, came the duck soup.

No part of the duck goes to waste.
Duck bones.
The soup was pretty good. It was not heavily flavoured and not too oily. However, it was also not gelatinous as the duck bones were not simmered long enough. That being said, it is amazing how the taste of the duck is absorbed by the soup so quickly.

After the soup, we asked for the bill and Jeremy paid for all of us. Thank you, Jeremy. Then, it was a long walk back to Lygon Street, as we were going to hit another joint for dessert, which will be covered in my next entry.

A word of warning though, I think either the duck or the sauce is heavily salted or MSG-ed as I am experiencing an unquenchable thirst right now.

197, Smith Street,
Fitzroy, VIC 3065,
Australia.


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Monday, May 2, 2011

BlackBerry Torch 9800

The box.
After a three-day wait, it finally arrived. However, it did not arrive at my apartment.

The building I live in is still new and thus Optus, and many other telecom companies do not have the address in their database. Therefore, I had to ask for Mimi's favour to use her address which she agreed to, without fuss.

The postman delivered the package on Friday, which is two days after I ordered it, but Mimi was not around to accept the package. A note was left behind for me to claim it from the Lygon Street post office.

The quest was the berry was a long and arduous journey, trekking from the Arts Centre, the southeastern-most building of the university to Newman College, the northern end, and that was just to retrieve the note. With the note in hand, I walked back down to the southern end and turned to Lygon Street. I was thrilled as I got closer to the post office. Little did I know that it was a small post office with a crowd of customers in the evenings. Standing in line, I met Cherry and her cousin who were there to deliver letters. It made me wonder, who still sends letters in this day and age?

Finally, it was my turn. I showed my passport as photo I.D. and signed for the package. The excitement was bubbling within me, about to overflow at any moment. I rushed home right after, not giving a damn about the upcoming Econometrics lecture.

Still having the patience to take a few photos before unboxing the phone.
The name.
Non-stop social networking. How am I to focus on my studies?
Damn, I love that box.
The packaging just looks awesome. It is black. With minimal text on it. "BlackBerry". I am still a sucker for good packaging.

The only berry sexier than this is Halle Berry.
It makes my pudgy hands look petite.
The BlackBerry Torch is huge, if not anything else. 107mm x 60mm from what I measured. It looks like it means business, and that is what BlackBerries are all about.

The useless, as usual, owner's manual.
It's alive!
My sweet berry.