Co Do

So...the other day I queued for a table at a restaurant.  Big whoop, you say.  These days, that's about as Melbourne as trams, four seasons in one day, and bagpipes at Flinders St station (if you're old enough to remember them).  But this wasn't at some hidden-entrance, underground hotspot serving Chinese-Mexican fusion (don't laugh, there actually is one in Melbourne) - this was at a Vietnamese joint in Sunshine.

And it was totally worth it.

So I'm stealing my own thunder a little - let's back up.  Co Do opened in late June with a seemingly crazy mission - to add another Vietnamese eatery to Sunshine's already well-stocked Hampshire Road.

If the name sounds familiar, that's because Co Do has also operated for many years quite happily in Victoria St, Richmond.  Their specialty is bun bo Hue, a chilli-lemongrass beef soup from the old imperial city of Hue in central Vietnam.  But it soon became apparent that's not all they do well.

The first time we stopped in, we did have to wait a not unpleasant ten minutes or so for a table.  It was chockers.

People get so intimidated by Vietnamese menus, and I get it.  But once you've eaten in a lot of Vietnamese places, you'll begin to see that each menu has a couple of unique dishes that aren't part of the usual 1000 or so.  They are the ones I always gravitate to first.

Case in point - these "pork and prawn cake in banana leaf" or banh bot loc.  These were really quite unusual - unwrapping each fat little parcel (you don't eat the outer leaf) revealed a fat, semi-opaque bundle of gummy tapioca flour, surrounding well-seasoned prawn and pork.  I'm not selling them very well, but they were pretty cool.  A very interesting and (I dare say) street food-style dish you don't see very often on restaurant menus.

Another "banh", this time banh beo.  These are mini steamed rice cakes topped with dried prawn that's been whizzed up into a crumble.  This is a Hue specialty.  These were much less peculiar than the former offering and really quite good, lovely doused in a lot of seasoned fish sauce.  Another one that's almost never seen here in Melbourne.

Do be sure to check out the specials ("Dac Biet") on the papers on the walls.  They're in Vietnamese but that doesn't preclude you from ordering them (as some people seem to feel) - I knew what most of them were but the waitress was happy to explain the couple I didn't.  And don't stress too much, because most are in the menu itself.  This is one - rare beef coleslaw, or goi bo tai chanh if I remember correctly.  The beef has been "cured" in lemon juice, similar to ceviche.  A fantastic riot of flavours and textures in this one, and perhaps not as cloyingly sweet as some other coleslaws can be.

But the number one order was this banh xeo.  Translated as "Vietnamese pancake", this is something I've had a somewhat tempestuous relationship with, as the more I eat, the more I'm reminded how much better they can be.  These filled pancakes always run the risk of being gluggy and soggy, and a sorry amount in Melbourne are.

This one was a standout winner.  The batter really tasted of coconut cream, and the filling (which we first thought was a little sparse) revealed itself to be judiciously proportioned, so that every bite had the right proportion of creamy mung beans, just-wilted bean sprouts, whole prawns (yes, you eat the shells - crunch crunch - don't be scared!) and cooked pork.  ZOMG.  (Pro tip - open up the pancake and spread the filling out a bit, so you get more even distribution.)

To eat, cut portions with your spoon, place in a piece of lettuce with an embarrassment of herbs, and spoon dipping sauce over.  HEAVEN.  Amazing banh xeo, and only 15 dollars.  And no boring iceberg in sight - all the greens were really crunchy and unusual!

I went back the following week, and it was looking like we'd have to queue again, when a friendly lady offered to let us share her table.  This turned out to be a huge score.  She used to be in the restaurant business and has been coming to Co Do weekly to try more and more goodies, so enamoured she is of the food.

Time for the signature dish - bun bo Hue.  This soup is made with a broth rich with lemongrass and chilli, and normally has an absolute butcher's bin of offal on top.  Co Do do a version with just sliced rare beef for those wimps among us.  This was delicious.  The lemongrass is really there, giving it an almost tom yum flavour - but more beefy.  The noodles were big fat rice noodles, almost like rice noodle spaghetti.

My favourite part, though, is the big pile of chopped lettuce and red cabbage for you to throw in, which you should do liberally.  (On the left above, under the basil - the basil and bean sprouts are for the pho.)  If you've done pho, if you've done hu tieu mi - it's time to try bun bo Hue.  And this is where to do it.

But - the pho!  Normally I avoid pho unless it's a pho-specific restaurant.  But this was off the hook.  The broth was so good - a great balance of salty and sweet, and with intriguing herbiness.  Fantastic.  I only got to snaffle a few bites as this was hot property of a pho-obsessed child, but I am SO going back for this.

PS:  Make sure you put some of the Vietnamese "saté sauce" in a dish to dip your meat in.  It's the sauce in the glass bottle on the table, with a spoon through the lid.  The one here is really dried prawn-y - yum.

My lucky tablemate had also raved about the Vietnamese yoghurt here.  She explained that one of the owners makes it and "you cannot find better".  I got some to take away.  Now sweet yoghurt's not really my thing, and this was very sweet.  It had a fabulously delicate texture and the slight funk that sometimes accompanies sheep or goat's milk.  Not my thing but I could tell it was good, if you like that sort of thing.

The majority of the places you read about on these fair pages are places I very much enjoy - and then promptly go on to never revisit (or only do so once in a blue moon).  It's the unfortunate reality for me, as I'm always driven to find new and exciting eats, and am bounded by both budget and expanding bum.  A small proportion, though, become regular haunts.  Sunshine's Co Do is definitely going to be one.

Co Do
207 Hampshire Rd, Sunshine
Phone 9939 0850
Open 7 days, 9am-10pm

Sunshine Devonshire House Tea Rooms

Now, I love a good burger.  But back when I first started eating burgers, "brioche" was a mythical food that only existed in French class - like Orangina.  Jal-a-peenos?  What the bloody hell is that?  Pass me the tinned beetroot and pineapple.  Pickles?  Those things only existed at Macca's, and for the sole purpose of throwing them against the wall.

And don't get me started on the prices.  We found one in Carlton the other day that had hit fifteen bucks, made all the more insulting to this dinky-diehard by being on a damper roll.  (I haven't had this burger.  I'm sure it's lovely.  But $15?!)

What if I told you I could time-travel you back to 1989?  What's the first thing you would do?

Meet Sunshine's Devonshire House tea rooms, your friendly local teleportal back in time.  It's a charitable venture of the Uniting Church in which it is housed.  According to the pseudo-gothic wording on the wall:  "Devonshire House is a venture of social concern instituted by the Sunshine Methodist Church.  It is in the main staffed and maintained by volunteers.  If any profit is gained it will be directed to youth and welfare services in the area".

All good, although how ANY profit could be gained from these prices beggars belief.  CHECK.  THEM.  OUT.  Sausages, egg n' chips for $5.50?  Soup, five bucks?  A "tomato and bacon special", which is certainly worth taking a punt on for a mere seven dineros?

Here's your lovely hamburger & salad ($7!) with a small side of chips ($1.20!)  The salad!  The cheese triangles, tinned beetroot, hardboiled egg and iceberg!  The tinned pineapple chunks!  Bless their cotton socks.

And here's mine - a "baconburger" and chips ($8.50!  Yes, every price hereafter mentioned includes an exclamation mark).  Behold its wobbly-yolked glory!  It was bloody delicious.  I had to have a little sniffle halfway through, it brought back so many childhood memories.

There's a big outdoor area that you can sit in on a nice day.  Another friend had told me about this place ages ago, having reported that she brought a group of mates and their kids here for her birthday.  She shouted them all lunch, player that she is, which ended up coming to about $35 - FOR EVERYONE.  (!)

I am dying to try the "Devon Latte".  I may be a born-and-bred Aussie, but even I don't know what that is.  I bet it involves whipped cream, a saucer with a doily and a glass with a handle.  (Google doesn't help - top result is a Mr Devon Latte from Quebec.)

Or maybe next time the "Spin Q" will be on offer.  It took me a good while to work out what the heck this is.  I think I've got it - spinach quiche!  For $2.20!!!  (Yes, that deserves three excy marks.)

I would like to quickly say that if I catch anyone bashing this joint on Urbanspoon for things like using caterer's margarine, Home Brand teabags or not having posh salt, I will give you a Chinese burn.  It is obviously not that sort of place.  Ditto any service quibbles.  The Queen doesn't like mean people, OK?

Sunshine Devonshire Tea Rooms

34 Devonshire Road, Sunshine (between the kindy and the church)

Open 10.30am-2pm Monday-Friday (last orders at 1.30pm)

Sunshine Phở Fever 2014

Disclaimer:  I attended Sunshine Pho Fever as a non-paying guest.

I first got bit by the bug in 2013.  Despite plenty of booster bowls throughout the year, the minute the invite landed on my desk, I felt the fever take hold yet again.  I was off to Hampshire Road to sample some of the finest soups Sunshine has to offer - presented as part of Sunshine Phở Fever.

It was Phở Fever's second year, presented by the Sunshine Business Association as part of the Melbourne Food and Wine Festival.  The 2013 series was particularly epic, involving three huge bowls of phở, so this year's promised to be tweaked a little, adding other liquid refreshment alongside the signature soups.

We kicked off at Sao Cafe, where we scored our choice of Vietnamese cold drink.  My taro bubble tea was fine but really, filled as they are with grass jelly cubes and chewy tapioca balls, these drinks are a meal in themselves.  Should have gone for a cafe sua da - but post-Rickshaw Run, I needed all the sleep I could get!

Simon of Brimbank Council and Win of the Sunshine Business Association were welcoming and informative hosts...

...and after a short chat, we divided into two groups and were led us to our first stop - in my case, Phở Hien Saigon.  A recent SBS Feast competition voted the phở here the second best in Victoria.  (The winner?  iDo Kitchen in Albert Park - now closed, apparently!)

Owner Cung has had his restaurant for five years and in the last year has taken over the shop next door, doubling its size.  The phở recipe was originally his uncle's, but Cung has tweaked it in response to his customers' desire for a "less intense" flavour and a clear stock.

This is really good phở.  In some broths you can really taste the spices - the star anise and cinnamon - but Phở Hien Saigon's is milder and "cleaner".  Isn't it a pretty bowl, too?  "You do eat [with] your eyes," said Cung.

The broth here is a combination of beef and chicken stocks, made separately and combined to serve.  See the sugar canister on the table?  That's full of chilli oil.  I normally have this on the side to dip my meat into, but at Phở Hien Saigon, it's particularly good added to the broth itself.

A short stroll down the street and we headed into Thuan An.

Here, Julie explained that her family's phở was neither strictly northern or strictly southern, but rather was adapted to "please both regions".

The table was beautifully set with some of the secrets of the phở pot - rock sugar for sweetness...

...and spices, including star anise, cumin, cinnamon, coriander and black cardamon.  At Phở Hien Saigon, the broth bubbles for 12 hours, while at Thuan An, it's an 18-hour simmer.  Julie explained that each spice is added at a specific time point to draw out precisely the right amount of flavour.  These aren't all the spices that go into the mix, either - there are more, used in smaller quantities but no less important.

Thuan An had blanched and trimmed their bean shoots for us, which was a very nice touch.  Next door are two small bowls of chilli sauce and hoisin sauce.  People sometimes squirt these into the broth, but you're not really meant to - the idea is you dip your meat in them sparingly.

Julie explained that in Vietnam, phở is often a breakfast dish.  It's served in much smaller portions than here in Australia.  She reports that when folks head here fresh from Hanoi or Saigon, they are staggered at the size, particularly at Thuan An where the soup is served in enormous square bowls.

I thought I'd go wild and crazy and have a phở dac biet, which is phở with all the "bits" - brisket, beef ball, tendon and tripe.  In the end, I just like good old sliced beef and sliced chicken, though.  Thuan An's broth wasn't to my taste - I found it really sweet.  But what I did love was the sliced beef in this bowl - super thinly sliced and full of flavour.  Julie explains that Thuan An use scotch fillet (Phở Hien Saigon use round).  She says to come back and try other beef-based dishes, like the bo luc lac or diced beef with garlic - her parents are meat wholesalers so they know their stuff.

Next - what a treat, a peek in the kitchen!

I don't know if I can call this a "pot" of phở.  More like a paddling pool's worth!

So much freshness.  I really need to come back soon and try more from the menu.

As we walked to the next spot, I swear I heard our bellies sloshing.  It was time for our last stop - Nhi Nuong (2 Sisters).

The sisters in question are Yen and Elizabeth, who as well as being passionate cooks, make up a talented musical duo.  They perform at the restaurant occasionally - you might catch them on a Friday or Saturday night.

Elizabeth explained that the tea here is different to the standard jasmine you get elsewhere.  It's pandan tea, imported from Vietnam.  Apparently people come to Nhi Nuong just for the free tea!

As well as beautifully carved fruit, we had really good beef in betel leaves (the betel leaves home grown in Queensland and specially sent down, apparently) and excellent, thick spring rolls.  Big points for inclusion of fish mint on the plate!  (PS:  You can read more about this and other unusual Asian herbs in this piece I wrote recently for The Age.)

Elizabeth's daughter Daniella joined in to serenade us while we munched...

...and then it was time for a long, cold glass of sugarcane juice.  This all-natural soft drink is made by feeding sugar canes through a wringer.  Elizabeth explained that back in Vietnam, kids would be given sections of cane to chew, particularly as they were waiting for dinner.  (Kind of like a Vietnamese Milky Way - won't ruin your appetite!)

Sunshine Phở Fever was a lovely evening, from the tangible pride of the business owners to the delicious food.  I was sitting near Paul from Kew who commented that eating phở like this is "like comparing shades of white".  In isolation, there isn't much to differentiate an ivory from a cream - but put them side by side and you can see the variations.  Likewise, I loved being able to eat different bowls of phở in such close proximity to each other, which is so useful in pinpointing exactly what your phở palate says.  And mine says - when it comes to phở, Sunshine is spoilt rotten.

Even if you think you can't stand hearing Gangnam Style one more time, watch this vid, featuring some of Sunshine's finest eats - it is an absolute cack!

Sunshine Hospital

Reckon the west is getting too fancy schmancy? Posh coffee shops getting you down? Never fear - Sunshine Hospital is keeping it real. In the emergency department, there were two toilet choices - one with no seat and the other fragranced with the fug of furtive ciggies. Sunshine - where you're never too sick to suck down a smoke!

To be fair, the next time I passed the toilets, the one with the missing seat had a maintenance sign on the door. And meanwhile, you the reader are probably rather confused as to where this post is going! Without boring you with too many tedious details, last week I spent a few days in Footscray and Sunshine Hospitals with a health problem. Don't worry, there isn't another pork roll scare. (Funny thing - my husband has eaten so many pork rolls, it's a wonder Nhu Lan doesn't have one named after him. It should be "The Bogan", because he always orders a roll with extra meat. Anyway, I thought everyone knew about the dying-from-pork-rolls thing that happened in the 90's, but it turns out he didn't. When I told him he went rather ashen, obviously reliving all the near-death experiences he has had over the last eight years he's lived in the 'scray. Oh, you didn't know about the killer pork rolls either? Oh well. Surely if you had to choose a last meal, a banh mi would be a good choice!)

Anyway, I'm fine now, but in the interests of a fair go, I thought I'd share with you some of Western Health's finest fare in an attempt to tempt you to visit its fair campuses. We begin with the emergency department sandwich. Actually, this is another sandwich from later in my stay, as I wasn't really thinking about food blogging at the time. But let's just say, when a single layer of ham covers the exact surface area of the bread - we're probably not talking Jonai Farms' finest. But we won't look a gift horse in the mouth. (Not to say it was horse. I'm sure it wasn't.)

Another standout meal was beef stroganoff "surprise". (Also not pictured - this is another meal, but I'd rather forget what it was.) Fun Ms Baklover fact:  When I was 18, I worked for a spell in a hospital kitchen. The food would arrive in a van in giant, insulated barrels. You'd take a tray, upon which would have a menu with tick boxes the patient had checked with a little bingo pencil. You would then push each tray along a bench, placing the requested items onto it. Jelly? Check. OJ? Check. Grey broccoli in a lumpy cheese sauce? Oh, if you insist. They would then be taken up to the wards. I didn't get a chance to tick a menu, but I was really happy to see that the default option was beef stroganoff, which I quite like normally. Beef, mushrooms, sour cream sauce...and pickles. Yes, pickles, like the ones you get in a McDonald's burger - in a beef stroganoff. Hashtag hospital food logic.

Times were desperate. Friends brought me Aangan, which, after three days of mystery meat, tasted hallucinogenic. Slowly it dawned on me that there might be life outside the ward. A friend had brought me a coffee from the cafe, so I set off to find it myself. I wasn't sure if patients were meant to leave, and I didn't want to ask in case the nurse said no and I was condemned to another Styrofoam Zinger®-flavoured cup of tea and one of those biscuits with "NICE" printed on them, as if they're trying to convince you they are something other than sawdust. So I took off my hospital gown, put on my trackies, covered up the IV in my arm with my wallet and absconded.

And it was so worth it. I hustled back my contraband egg and bacon muffin to my room and devoured it with much gusto. Yes, I might eat it now and be completely unmoved, but like a teenage summer romance, at the time it felt so, so right. And I reckon they knew I snuck out to buy it. In fact, maybe that's the trigger for them to discharge you. "Matron, Bed 5 was just spotted at Zouki, buying a ten-pack of caramel slices." "Prepare the paperwork - she's cured!"

In all seriousness, though, the food was edible, plentiful, and more importantly, was accompanied by world-class medical care that is 100% free. Thank you to all the wonderful nurses, doctors and support staff at Western Health who were nothing but friendly, professional, and did everything they could do to make my stay as comfortable as possible. And while Sunshine Hospital may not win any prizes for food, Ward 1A did win First Prize at the Pressure Ulcer Expo. (I saw the certificate on the wall.) And I don't reckon there's a posh coffee shop anywhere that can lay claim to that.