Mojos, Shige, Left Bank Weekend roundup [over]

Not a lot of restaurant reviews of late and little wonder. The other month I had a lovely meal at Jacksons, punctuated by a sweary row over what constituted torture (“nobody was &%$#! &%$&# at #$%&% boarding school! oh hi ahhmmmm yes I’ll have the apple and walnut risotto for entree and the ahhh rabbit for main”) and then had a great meal at Cream where my sister and I managed to break or upend at least three glasses between us. Perth’s a small town, word gets around. I now book in my wife’s name.

Mojo’s in North Fremantle is a top bar and I’m old enough to remember when it was The Stoned Crow, they sold Kirup Syrup, and I was stunned as a green 17 year old to see a white rastafarian skinning up. Anyway, I got off to an early start on Friday and what I vaguely remember is here.

A quiet night was in order for Saturday so we went to my fave Japanese restaurant in Perth, Shige . I went there by farm Landcruiser and discovered the CB radio scene in Perth is alive and well – sample convos

Channel 1

1:ba’&$%d

2:f%&$#ff

1:ya sleeping in the &%$& shed tonight

2: yeah well at least my wife wasn’t f&%#& by my best mate.

3: Steve ya there?

Channel 5

1: to the hip hop the rhythm and the method…

2: I was sc&%$& today

3: Yeah

2: went to bed at 3:30 and woke up at 6:30 and chucked me guts up over me bed.

4:Steve ya there?

Anyway Shige was great once again, we took a bottle of Corr inspired Skuttlebutt Sauvignon Blanc/Semillon/Chardonnay 2003, which Toni enjoyed but I’d hoped for something a bit drier as a sake facsimile. Skuttlebutt is part of the extremely good Stella Bella family of Margaret River. For eats we had gyoza, fried oyster, tempura moriawase, and the grilled pike – all good. We were at the counter and watched the owner quietly and effortlessly just churn out plate after plate of food. Reminded by a Japanese couple of the very good Japanese piece of etiquette of offering a glass of what you’re having to the chef.

Sunday morning was an even more relaxed brekky at the Left Bank Bar & Cafe in Fremantle along the Swan River. The Left Bank is a bit disorienting as it looks like a pub but doesn’t have any beer taps, just bottles. Breakfast is good – scores big on (q*v)/$ – hollandaise, eggs, bacon, mushrooms and toast with a long mac. Flawlessly sunny what a place to live winter morning enjoyed and then back to the Australian dream.

Update Ahh Skuttlebutt, what a satisfyingly prescient choice – only one bottle though, didn’t want to go overboard.

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4 comments

  1. Robert’s avatar

    Shit you had a busy weekend. I was up until 3:30am last night finishing a fucking assignment, and then had to wake by 6:30am in order to drive it down to Fremantle in time to get back up to Woodvale for work at 9… but now that’s out of the way so I can relax.

  2. Anthony’s avatar

    Ahhh the all night assignments, but be grateful for the fact that you never had to endure the slow moving hell that was the dot matrix printer.

    Have a good relax.

  3. Jeanne’s avatar

    “Back to the Australian dream”?? Sounds like you didn’t leave it all weekend!!

  4. Anthony’s avatar

    I wish, Australian dream these days refers to house based labouring under the fantasy that selling will yield great riches (and nowhere to live) or the terror that your worth will be measured in choice of feature walls.

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