Pork Rice Noodle Salad at Parap Market

From the heart of Parap market billows a savoury plume of smoke.  Is it the breath of a sleeping dragon dreaming of a luscious last eaten meal... or perhaps a bain-marie has been set alight by some slimming rioters? 

On closer investigation, the smoke was coming from this stall of Vietnamese cuisine...

The cause: no, not the gentleman in the blue-striped polo shirt.  Rather: Vietnamese pork kebabs.  Ruddy as the cheeks of a Saigon resident drunk on Bia Hoi, the kebabs are a nauseously enjoyable combination of bashed pork, herbs and glaze.

In Melbourne they are generally savoury red balls on a skewer, subsequently sliced into a crispy roll or placed atop a bowl of rice vermicelli.  At this store they are presented as a fat sausage sized, squeezed palmful of pig, stabbed by a skewer then grilled, well, almost before ones eyes if you navigate the market to the back of the stall where the bbq is manned.

If you peek behind the pho bowls, beneath the great umbrella, you can glimpse the BBQer holding fort in his sunnies!

These kebabs are delicious!  The ruddy glaze is perfectly charcoaled and the centre of the minced pork is juicy without being indulgently fatty.  We ate them in a roll last time... this time, after Sarah and I wandered our separate ways to decide what each would eat, chance and desire led us back to the stand from where the smoke billows. The result: two orders of Vermicelli Salad with Pork Kebabs!

This is perfect summer food, fresh, crisp, savoury and sweet.  You can see all the ingredients above, in the process of mixing.  Actually, I was surprised by how good this market version was compared to some of the examples I've eaten in Vietnamese restaurants.  The taste ricochets between the meat, crushed peanuts, chili and the texture of the vermicelli, all the while being washed over by the sweet and gently sour tones of the Nuoc Cham sauce and held upright and honest by the crispness of the lettuce, cucumber and carrot.   If you are yet to try this combination, then get down to the Parap Market, follow the savoury smoke and get some into you!

Rendezvous at Rendezvous Cafe

There is much competition, promotionally speaking, regarding Darwin's best Laksa.  Experience has led me to not trust any restaurant, cafe, or used car lot that advertises itself as offering 'the best (insert item here) in town'.  Melbourne, renowned for its decent coffee and local bean roasters, was never short of desperate, suburban cafes - the type that exclusively cater to convenient lunches squeezed into an half hour work break - claiming they brewed the 'best coffee in town'.  Ah, what mugs of muddy bilge I do not miss.  Thence, entering Smith Street's Rendezvous cafe with my culinary comrade in arms (who has eaten a laksa at Rendezvous and said it was "alright"), I tip toed on the prudent side of mistrust and... ordered something else!

After fetching a menu, we took a seat wallside.  Had i delerium tremens, for something certainly was shaking.  Its the fan, Sarah Informed, which shook from ceiling, through the wall, exiting its tremors through the table.  So we moved to a table not in contiguity with the wall, scanned again the now unflickering menu, then ordered.

Sarah chose the Tom Yum, which was piquantly herbal, generously meated, and certainly knew all about chili's relation to a soup sipper's sweat glands.  I only had a spoonful, but it was a spoonful that invited me to order this dish on my next visit, remembering my sweat towel.

Look at that chilli fuzz clinging to the sides of the noodle-fall's plunge pool!

I ordered the Nasi Lemak, which came to me quite clinically presented: neatness minus much representational allure.  And, notably, where was the mid-brain of a nasi-lemak... the sambal?  I was also surprised by the merely boiled and quartered, rather than boiled and then fried-in-chili egg that is standard fare amongst my prior experiences of a good Nasi Lemak?

But plain appearances can be deceiving, even if they are generally not.  The very soupy rendang, which looked more like an English beef casserole, melted its little cubes across my tongue most pleasantly.  This is the best rendang I've tasted in Darwin. What it lacked in intensity was made up for by the way the flavour was confidently distributed throughout the meat.  A dash of sliced spring onions atop added a subtle lick of freshness to this very sugary beef rendang.  I was impressed.  Then there was the coconut rice: one could see congealed specks of coconut cream in it.  This was delicious, if not somewhat too sweet.  If it was served as a rice custard, I may have rather said it could have been somewhat sweeter.  I do, however, prefer my rice less swollen.  The roasted peanuts were... peanuts, roasted without surprise.  The anchovies were delicious, although they were very salty.  One could see their little eyes peering out from beneath the intricate, tan batter, not quite knowing what to make of what had become of them.  Last and least, a few token slices of tomato and cucumber had been slipped on the plate's edge - quite useless as a salad, and even more useless without the requisite sambal their action is traditionally meant to soothe.

The test with any Nasi Lemak is when all the ingredients are piggishly shoveled into the mouth together.  Here the sweetness of the rendang grabbed the willing arm of the sweet rice and swung a merry lunchtime jig around the crunchy peanuts and the startle-eyed anchovies.  The egg, however, felt out of place and was mopingly swallowed separately.  The man in black in the photo above is counseling a fretting anchovy.

Sarah, who seemed to be melting into her own sweat pool, obviously enjoyed her Tom Yum.

While I did my best to relieve the dish washer of her labours, and look forward to my next, lo, rendezvous at Rendezvous cafe.  Maybe their 'best laksa' claims have something to them.

1. How about this: Rendezvous Cafe. Malaysian/Singaporean. Shop 6, The Mall , 32 Smith St, Darwin, NT,  Ph: (08) 8981 9231

Sumatra Cafe

Darwin is blessed by the number of bain-maries it has housing Indonesian cuisine.  I must admit I am a great fan of Indonesian cuisine, especially of beef rendang.  Rendang should be on the drier side, with meat that falls into strands upon the tongue, cooked for many hours such that most liquid is reduced and one is left with a condensation of flavour clinging to and penetrating through the meat.  Of course there are many variations, but all the best rendangs I have had share these qualities.  The best I've tried in Australia is to be found at Minang's in Melbourne.  As a rule, I never order rendang a la carte off a menu, for it is not rendang if it can be cooked in less than 2 hours.  Hence the humble bain-marie provides a perfect residence for a trustworthy rendang.  I'm yet to find a good, dry rendang in Darwin, although Sumatra cafe offers a few long-cooked, beef-based alternatives to more soupy, coconut based Indonesian curries.

Sumatra Cafe also offers a large range of such coconut based curries, with variations on chicken, lamb and beef - and a few vegetable options slopped in - swimming amply before the indecisive eye.

The vege-fritter, an omnipresent item in Darwin's Indonesian bain-maries, is soundly represented at Sumatra Cafe.  Turmeric yellow, concocted from flour, egg, cabbage, carrot and spring onion, these were generously sized but could have done with a little de-oiling before serving.  The level of crispiness depends on how long they've been sitting around, so if you want a good specimen then arrive early.  Either way, once chewed and mixed mouthwise with a drizzle of kecap manis, they hold their ground in the vege-fritter world.

I ordered daging belado (chilli dried beef and potato), semur daging (beef and soy sauce) and 'chilli beans in coconut milk', all heaped in a mixing manner atop sambal-red fried rice (that's what you do with yesterday's left over rice).  The rice was dry, with a gentle wok smokiness that gave way to the sambal's heat.  Nothing special, but more interesting than plain rice.  The daging belado was something I'd never encountered in Melbourne (the closest was the warm, dried lung at Minang's).  Sambal based, with subtle lime overtones and kecap manis sweetness, the very dry slices of beef approach a soft-jerky quality, readily flaking and crumbling when chewed.  The slender slices of fried potato squash into a supporting, gently floury background haze that allows the rich, long cooked beef flavour to clamber into notice above the dominant claims of the sambal.  Definitely a dish I'd eat again!

The semur daging was, as its literal name suggests, chunks of beef slowly drowned in a gravy of thickly sweet soy sauce.  There were suggestions of star anise, and the sweetness was very fragrant indeed.  The beef was as dry as it should be for a decent rendang, although the chunks may have benefited from being slightly smaller cut.  The centre of each piece had a sticky, chewy quality, despite the surrounds falling into long strands.
Finally, the chilli beans in coconut milk were almost impressive - i suspect the beans may have been of the frozen variety, for they were rather mushy.  But the sauce, which very much resembled a basic, mild green curry, perfectly suited the beans' flavour, mushy they may have been.  Either with fresh beans, or a tad more recently cooked, this dish would be a winner!

Jugs of cold water are on offer in the fridge - necessary to deal with the constant barrage of chilli.  The place seemed very popular with Indonesians on their lunch break, which is a trustworthy sign.
Sarah lapped up her food as quickly as I mine.  Indonesian food is always very savoury and moreish.  Sumatra Cafe may lack a good beef rendang, but what it does offer is of decent quality and well worth returning to, especially given the variety of dishes on offer.
Sumatra Cafe, shop 9A/38 Smith St, Darwin.

Cambodian Savoury Pancake at Parap Market

Since arriving in Darwin I have put on weight, despite my wallet becoming thinner.  The culprit, duly, is Darwin's wonderful markets.  Never have i encountered so much authentic Asian cuisine Down Under, hawker style of course.  Given the seasonal closure of the Mindil Beach market, my weekly bout of confusion and resolution begins on Saturday mornings at the Parap market: at which store and with which cuisine do i begin my gluttonous grazing?  On this particular Saturday, after a few fried goods and succulent satays, with a double-shot iced coffee thrown in to keep the brain above the stomach's pit, my part-bolstered belly led me towards the Savoury Pancake stand.

I've eaten many Vietnamese pancakes - paper-thin crepes, small umbrella sized, atop which is heaped your choice of meat and a small garden of lively herbs, all doused in a Nuoc Cham dipping sauce.  Perfect summer food.  But never had I jagged my teeth into the Cambodian variety, so I was looking forward to comparing two interpretations of the pancake idea.

The ingredients were mixed together in a rectangular take-away container - egg, flour, mussels, prawns, squid and chicken mince, spring onions - then poured into a sizzling pan.

Once cooked, the pancake was folded over a handful of crisp bean sprouts and more slices of spring onion, then deposited in the above, not quite environmentally adept container.  A dab of chili sauce on the side, as well as fresh mint, lettuce, sliced cucumber and a container of a watery, sweet chili based sauce, and the pancake was ready for tasting.

What initially struck me was the substantial thickness of the pancake, which more closely resembled the European rather than the Vietnamese variety.  Putting all the meaty ingredients into the mixture added to this, but perhaps what was required was a larger pan.  The 'egginess' of the pancake suggested a mild cheddar in taste, which oddly sat in tandem with the low tones of the green-lipped mussels' ocean flavour.  Large, succulent mussels that were the gently crooning backbone of the many combinations involved in this dish.  Given all the ingredients, each mouthful would vary slightly from the previous, although held in a form of continuity by the cheesy-egginess of the pancake, the drag-strip of the hot chili, the mussels, a flash of mint and finally, when all the savoury flavours would subside, the certain sweetness of the poured container of sauce.

The prawns, not unlike someone from a small country town when first dropped into a thriving metropolis, lost themselves in the general melee.  As too did the squid strips, only sounding their presence via a substantial chewiness.  Sarah also found the mussels on the chewy side: perhaps her pancake was cooked longer than mine, elsewise Sarah's teeth are softer than my gnawers.
I was far from dissatisfied with my Cambodian Savoury Pancake, but admittedly I prefer the Vietnamese examples my past has numerously lapped up.  Unlike the latter, I feel I could readily make a similar pancake in my own kitchen, only with better quality prawns and squid.

Authentic Thai at The Border Store, Kakadu

After a lingering stretch in a culinary wilderness, what a surprise the Border Store offered our famished oral senses!

The last time we were here - now that's four years back - i believe a few token, warmed pies and sausage rolls were on offer along with the sugary-drink stacked fridges.   But the Border Store has changed: to the left of the store, behind the fence, an exotic garden of Asian edibles can be descried...

For the Border Store has become a bastion of quality Thai Cuisine... the kind of freshly made - no packaged curry pastes are involved - authentic Thai food that is nigh impossible to find in Melbourne.
Hot, fragrant soups that turn the palate into a deftly jigged Fawn Thai, and curries you wish would never end.  Compared to the over-priced mediocrity of the purported 'fine' dining found in more upmarket Kakadu establishments, this food is lithe, dexterous and celebratory.  Close your eyes as you indulge in a spoonful and - given the tropical atmosphere of the North of Kakadu - you'd be forgiven for forgetting you're not in Thailand.

The nearest town is Gumbalanya - where buffalo meat can be purchased from a local abattoir.  The Border Store also makes a decent coffee, and it is well worth dropping in for a memorable meal whilst visiting Ubirr or heading to Cahill's Crossing to watch the crafty crocs snap mullet backs when the surging tide up-crosses the barrage.

Kimberley Beef Burger, Drysdale River Station, North Kimberley

What a long way it is to the glorious and harsh North Kimberley! These days the Gibb River Road - ignoring the viciously disproportionate rumours that circulate amongst certain unadventurous Grey Nomads one may meet - could readily, albeit carefully, be taken in a 2wd.  But the Kulumburu Rd, despite regular grading by the manager of Drysdale River Station, still offers one's sit-bones a brutal massage.  But there is, thankfully, relief: shade and comfortable seats surrounded by palms and a bar where magical burgers appear, an oasis for the meat-emaciated.  Welcome to Drysdale River Station.

Walk past the petrol bowsers, past the public telephone hidden in the carcass of a fridge, swagger up to the bar and order one of their magnificent Kimberley Beef Burgers!

Now Sarah and I have devoured many of the best burgers in this country: the Platonic ideal of the take-away burger that resides at Andrews Burgers, Melbourne; Neil Perry's delectable, benchmark, albeit over-priced Wagyu Burger at Rockpool; the poorer, although still worthy, impersonator of Neil Perry's burger served at Plan B by Becasse in Sydney.  All these burgers are good, but I'm going to be brash enough to claim that Drysdale River Station's Kimberley Beef Burger is the Zeus amongst the Pantheon of Australian burgers.

It matches the Platonic quality of Andrew's burger in every way - everything is perfectly fried, the cheese is consummately melted, the buns are crunchy on the outside, fluffy in the middle, sauces are amply indulged and all salad ingredients are crisply fresh.  But it is double the size of an Andrew's burger... and then there is the beef!  Coarsely ground, fragrant Kimberley cattle squashed into a patty that, if frisbied with enough skill, could knock out a rampaging bull.  Yet this seductive, bear-sized patty is less oily than Neil Perry's Wagyu patty.
Add to these thoughts the riddle of how, being so ridiculously remote, the folks at Drysdale River Station manage to achieve this quality of freshness, and you have before you one of the great triumphs of the burger world.
Just to make sure our first burger wasn't a fluke, we stopped in again, having eaten all our supplies, having lived on a trickle of filtered creek water for nigh on two remote weeks... and, thank the burger-gods, it was no fluke.  The Kimberley Beef Burger is a bastion of considered, well made food in a part of this country that is as startlingly beautiful as it is harsh and remote. 

Ellenbrae Station's famous scones, Gibb River Rd

Mitchy's Barra Bar, Wyndham, WA