Janani

Unfortunately Jannai is no longer. In its place is curry restaurant Kammadhenu (which also has a branch in Newtown).

THE Deity had never been to Homebush but knew that it was somewhere near a complex of temples and shrines devoted to the sporting gods that came from across the planet to Sydney in the year 2000. Despite the lack of familiarity with this south-western Sydney suburb The Deity did expect some decent offerings as Homebush is home to a proportion of Sydney’s Indian and Sri Lankan communities.

Janani is housed at the bottom of some brick apartments on Burlington Road and it offers a Sri Lankan inspired menu with South Indian nuances. There are two areas – a small take-away room with a “pie warmer’ full of roti “rolls” stuffed with spiced potato; lamb or fish, as well as an assortment of snacks such as vada, samosa, pakora, and onion bhajji. Take-away orders from Jabai’s menu can also be made.

Then there’s a large indoor restaurant (with function room). The dining area isn’t striking unless glaring and colourful Bollywood MVs are playing on televisions. A bevy of fridges are stacked with Sri Lankan and Indian soft drinks (such as ‘Thums Up” cola and “Necto”), milk, water and other liquids.

Outside, tables line the stark veranda with Sri Lankan tourism posters fixed on the exposed brick support pillars and, yes, a TV (I’ve been to Janani before – a few summer’s ago – when the TVs are usually tuned into a cricket game. Thankfully cricket season was over or The Deity would have been fixated on it).

You could be forgiven into thinking you were in some Colombo street cafe – everything comes out on (or in) stainless steel: cutlery, drinking tumblers, plates, dishes and bowls. Service is casual.

The menu is extensive. There are varieties of naan and paratha (from $2); chapoori; chapatti; channa bhatura ($10); different varieties and styles of curry (seafood, lamb, goat and chicken), over 20 types of dosa (from $6.50); scotch eggs ($3); tandoori chicken and chicken tikka; biriyani, a choice of different thali; and street delights like samosa, vadai, idli, bhajji and hoppers.

I haven’t had a hopper since a visit to Sri Lanka in the late 1990s. Hoppers (or appam) are a staple breakfast dish for Sri Lankans. A hopper is a bowl-shaped thin pancake made from fermented rice flour. At Jannai you can have it plain, with a fried egg (an egg hopper), a milk hopper (which has a spoonful of coconut cream in the centre) or a jaggery hopper which is cooked with palm sugar. Janani also has the marvellous string hoppers (noolputtu) –which are made from rice flour dough which is pushed through a string hopper press into a hopper mould and then gently steamed and used to mop up curry (these weren’t tried on the visit).

Tamil literature has mentioned Hindu deities being ritually offered appam for centuries. Based on this, I thought it essential to offer The Deity an egg hopper ($3.50) which came with a small dish of pol sambol (ground chilli, maldive fish and coconut). This was a perfectly cooked thin and light hopper with a nicely fried egg. The pancake had that slightly acidic and fermented sourness to it which then combined with the sweet and savoury flavours of the sambol and fried egg. I found it quite traditional however The Deity found the combination of sweet, sour and savoury not too divine.

The Deity demanded a dosa – those wafer thin crepes made from fermented rice and lentil flour and making them properly is an art. The masala dosa ($8.50) was incredible – it seemed almost a metre long. This thin and crunchy crepe was neatly filled with a slightly spicy potato masala and served with sambar, raita (mint, carrot and coconut), and chutney. It’s always pleasing (and reassuring) to find a piece of cassia bark in a sambar (I know it’s made properly and with love)!

The Deity thought it was the best dosa ever (and The Diety is an expert on dosa). I had to agree – it wasn’t oily, there wasn’t too much potato masala in it to be overwhelming, and the five accompaniments were perfect matches. It was a star.

We just had to have a thali and the pick was the prawn thali ($14.50). It came on a stainless steel thali plate with rice, a poppadom, and six accompaniments (ranging from sambar, pickles, chutney and small serves of curry). The four prawns were in a rich, deeply-flavoured peppery curry sauce with hints of curry leaves, garlic, onion and coconut. The dish, despite there begin only four prawns it, was a more than adequate when taking into account all the accompaniments. The Deity and I had to fight over the remaining curry sauce – it was, quite simply, yummy.

Even though no garlands or incense awaited The Deity and I during the pilgrimage to Homebush (just the wafting scents of roasted cumin, mustard and curry leaves), Janani was able to offer extremely satisfying and well-priced Sri Lankan and southern Indian classics.

The verdict: Ignore the starkness of the place and just choose from an incredible list of flavorsome Sri-Lankan and South Indian foods. Simple, basic surroundings but the food is divine (and you can even take some Sri Lankan-inspired street morsels home with you).

What: Janani, 32 Burlington Road, Homebush NSW Australia (02) 9763 2306. Open weekdays from 10am to 10pm and weekends from 8.30am to 10pm.

Ate there: March 2012.

Tip: Selva’s Spices is 50m down Burligton Road from Janani and there you will find all the Sri Lankan and sub-continant essentials including a fridge full or Sri Lankan soft drinks such as the famous bright crimson and cherry-flavoured “Necto” with the marketing tag that reads: “Necto explodes with giggles and great fun” . Warning: keep out of reach of children (and some grown ups). It’s crimson, fizzy and sweet. Say no more.

Posted in Indian, New South Wales, Sri Lankan, Street Food, Sydney | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment

Fiji Market

FIJI Market has fascinated me for years. I discovered it some 15 years ago when I was finding my feet in the Emerald City as I had to walk past it daily from St Peters station to a mate’s place until I found some digs elsewhere in Newtown.

The store fascinated me for two reasons: there was no such thing as an “islander” shop in Adelaide back then (despite SA’s great Premier Don Dunstan being a Fijian Indian); and there was a gorgeous parrot that seemed to command the joint and greeted regulars as they entered.

Fiji Market is one of the stalwarts on the southern (and more interesting), end of King Street having been there since 1981. Run by Don Prasad it is an exotic Aladdin’s Cave of everything that you would need for a sub-continent or islander feast (or Bollywood party). It’s an enticing shop and half the fun is ducking and weaving in the narrow aisles amongst colourful saris, fabrics and garlands; and being mesmerised by glittery bangles and the endless array of ground and whole spices.

Despite being slightly claustrophobic, Fiji Market is colourful, smells terrific (a blend of robust spice and sweet incense tones), and is just one of those shops you want to spend an hour or so exploring every shelf and aisle (I’ve been there a countless number of times and I still discover things).

The first two aisles are dominated by spices – packets of pink peppercorns; nigella seeds; cardamom pods; pepper; star anise; cumin; fennel; ground and whole chilli; cinnamon and cassia quills, panch poran; etc, etc, etc.

The adjoining aisle is packed full of ground curry blends and maslas (Don’s own and the good-quality local, Indian and Pakistan brands); dosai, idli and vada mixes; jars and jars of sticky chutneys (and even guava paste). Don also has his own range of curry mixes (labelled Natraj), which includes a popular special curry blend that I have used and recommend (comes both mild and hot), as well as a chai .

The last aisle features Indian read-to-eat packet meals (mainly vegetarian – like aloo mutter and dal), bags of lentils and cooking utensils. You could spend a good half an hour just checking out the utensils. There are tiffin carriers; stainless steel tahli; pots and pans; coconut scrappers and chapatti rollers; cooking vessels and gleaming copper kadi.

The back wall is devoted to Mexican goods (which I have noticed growing in variety in the past couple of years). Here you will find canned and dried chilli (jalapeño, chipotle, and ancho); hot sauces; salsa; spicy Bloody Mary mixes; beans; mole sauces, hominy, flour and even Mexican chocolate.

Near the checkout area hanging from the walls and ceilings and on racks are colourful sari and fabrics; bindies, galands, beads and bracelets (and even Fijian shirts!)

Don also has a separate room out back which is almost like a rice temple with sacks and sacks of varieties of rice from around the world (it smells clean and pure and rice devotees won’t want to leave it for the real world).

Out front (where the parrot used to rule), are fresh fruits and vegetables; cooking books (the decent curry ones); fridges and freezes (with fresh herbs, fish, drinks, pandan and betel leaves); and I have occasionally spotted curry trees in pots.

Fiji Market also has a selection of sub-continent beauty products like sandalwood soaps; cleansers, henna and henna stencils, and even hair oil and, of course, Bollywood movies.

Don and his staff (who always seem flat out packing and sorting), are happy to help (they know where all their treasures are hidden), if you get overwhelmed exploring.

Just how good is Fiji Market? I kicked myself for not going there first when I was searching for a particular specialty item. I drove almost all over western Sydney to find a tiffin carrier and guess what? Fiji Market had them (and in different sizes).

What: Fiji Market, 591 King Street, Newtown, NSW Australia. Phone (02) 9517 2054.

Best buys: Curry trees, the spices, Mexican foods, rice and the cooking utensils (especially the tiffin carrier).

Posted in Grocery, Indian, New South Wales | Tagged , , , , , | 2 Comments

Harry’s Singapore Chilli Crab

THE barman at the Triple Ace Bar was particularly unimpressed with the Real Evil Genius (REG) ordering a middy of Resches shandy. It was Happy Hour at the Triple Ace where schooners of Resches were only $3.50 but REG wanted a smaller and diluted (he would argue “enhanced”) beer with lemonade (aka shandy), which, as the barman explained to REG, would cost him more as it wasn’t covered by the bar’s Happy Hour policy.

A Mexican standoff arose. The barman couldn’t believe a bloke didn’t want more beer for less (and would order a beer with lemonade in it). REG couldn’t believe that the barman didn’t understand that all he wanted was a small shandy (as he liked lemonade in his beer). A mediation ensued (REG is a skilled mediator), and even though money and shandy were traded both Reg and the barman were left a bit dismayed. I was just left recovering from an anxiety attack as I was concerned for REG’s physical well-being as the Triple Ace is a favourite watering hole for really big blokes that use different mediation techniques than REG and who were watching the exchange with great interest.

Harry’s Chilli Crab is a Sydney institution and is on the top floor of the aforementioned Triple Ace Bar – just a few steps up from a side entrance at Campbell Street in Sydney’s Surry Hills. It was started some 30 years ago by Harry Lau and you can’t miss it – there is a huge illuminated sign on the hotel of Harry with his trademark smile proudly holding a giant mud crab.

Climbing the few steps up to Harry’s you are greeted by crates full of huge live Queensland mud crabs waiting to be grabbed and served. It’s a bit surreal meeting your dinner at the door but that moment of sadistic guilt passes fairly quickly when the ice-cold Tiger and Tsing Tao beers arrive with a few more stuffed into a bucket full of ice (not only convenient but also a good sales technique). The restaurant space isn’t anything special – it’s a bit small and slightly poky and outdated (with that 1970s Chinese restaurant kind of charm), but Harry’s devotees don’t come for the décor – they come for the giant crustaceans mingling outside awaiting their unfortunate fate.

At $85 a kilo it isn’t going to be a cheap meal, especially considering that we were recommended a 2kg mud crab. There are 11 featured cooking styles for these massive crabs. Along with the famous chilli crab you can have pepper and salt; ginger and shallots; and black pepper (just to name a few that caught my eye). We went for the traditional Singapore chilli crab and were asked how spicy we wanted it (on a scale of 1 to 10 with kids apparently a 4). We went for ‘7’ – although REG and I both like heat we needed to be a bit wary as we had never really encountered the scale before and didn’t want to overpower the crab meat. It proved to be a good decision (although I could have gone up to an ‘8’ with hindsight).

The staff also recommended to have a plate of roti for dipping into the chilli sauce and some greens – in this case it was the garlic kangkong ($15).

Crabs are not the only items on the menu (but the restaurant is famous for them). You can also order from a range of Straits Chinese and Malaysian-style foods such as fresh barramundi fillet and snow peas ($26.50); scallops (from $30); lobsters at market price and a variety of prawn, duck, pork, vegetable and noodle and rice dishes. Banquets are also available with notice.

As the huge gleaming red crab came out on a platter cut up and swimming in a thick and egg-based and rust-colored chili sauce so did the manager with two huge plastic aprons which he wrapped and fastened around me and REG. Plastic aprons are a good thing for the HBV as I have the tendency to sometimes (and embarrassingly) wear food, spill the odd drink or, as one dining companion recently witnessed, brush crushed ice onto the floor of a trendy Sydney cocktail bar after it escaped from an ice bucket. I’m not a grub, it’s just that my arms wave about when I get excited.

Eating crab isn’t for the faint-hearted – you have to get stuck into it and it is going to get messy. I kept my eye on REG to get tips as he is a ‘crabophile’. He attacked the crab the way he tackled that barman – persistently, politely and with precision – not giving in to it and ensuring the red exoskeleton was hollow when he finished with a segment. He also ensured the HBV was getting his fair share.

The crab is quite good. Cooked very well with the right amount of time and it had surprisingly large amounts of melt-in-the-mouth sweet flesh throughout its shell (I’m always skeptical when it comes to large crustaceans). The sauce had the right amount of heat, was thick, robust and flavorsome with hints of onion, ginger, garlic and chilli and not overpowering. The firm roti was used to scoop this wonderful sauce in between us liking our fingers.

The steamed garlic kankong was firm and tossed in crushed garlic. A nice complement to the crab.

Harry’s motto is: “Nobody leaves my door unhappy”. We didn’t leave unhappy, just an empty beer bucket, a couple of kilos heavier and our wallets a bit lighter (it can be pricey). And, best of all, I didn’t have a speck of food or sauce on me.

Who needs to go to Singapore for good chilli crab?

The verdict: Dining at Harry’s may not be like sitting under a blanket of humidity overlooking the sea at Singapore’s East Coast Seafood Centre while ripping into a true Singapore Chilli Crab but it’s no accident Harry is still in the crab game after 30 years – he recreates a good authentic Singapore chilli crab style using carefully selected Queensland mud crabs which are lip-smacking great.

HBV tip: The Triple Ace Bar is a pleasant, old-school Sydney pub without the crap (and it doesn’t take any either), with cheap ice-cold beer. Just don’t order a shandy.

What: Harry’s Singapore Chilli Crab, 198 Elizabeth Street (enter via Campbell Street), Sydney NSW Australia. Phone: 9281 5565. Open for lunch from Tuesday to Sunday 11:30am to 3pm and dinner seven nights from 5.30pm to late.

Ate there: 5 January 2012.

Posted in Chinese, Hawker food, Malaysian, New South Wales, Street Food, Sydney | Tagged , , , , | 2 Comments