Australia: Dinner at The Australian via 42nd St., Manhattan

The Australian Australian (You, bloody bewdy!) Restaurant near 42nd St.

Subway: 42nd St. stop in Manhattan

Location: 20 West 38th St. New York, NY 10018 (212)869-8601

Bald: Tie me kangaroo, down, sport. Tie me kangaroo, down. All together now!

Short: G’day, all you blokes and sheilas! Grab your esky, put on your thongs and pull up your tracky-dacks. We’re off Down Under!

Bald: Short might be able to tell you all about fine-dining in Korea, but when it comes to barbequed koala, grain-fed platypus or emu foie gras, speak to the Bald man.

There are quite a few Australian restaurants, bars and cafes now in New York. Probably the most established is 8 Mile Creek, on the lower East side, with its fine dining upstairs and rowdy, very Aussie bar downstairs (we’ll go there later). There are also pie shops and bistros like The Tuck Shop, Bondi Road and The Sunburnt Cow, but recently, The Australian restaurant opened in mid-town, and you can’t get a name that’s more Australian than The Australian.

Bald: Unless you called it, The Australian Australian. Which would actually be un-Australian. There’s a fine line between being Australian and being too Australian. Just keep it relaxed, mate. Don’t get above yourself. Don’t start gettin’ tickets on yourself. Don’t start pissin’ in your own pocket.

Short: Bald, are you all right? Who are you talking to?

Bald: Wanna beer, love? Let’s go inside.

Short: I think you’re homesick, Bald.

Bald: Me?! Homesick? Don’t make me laugh! I can still kookaburra as well as the next drongo. I don’t care if you didgeridoo, or didgeridon’t! Just remember, vegemite, or vegemite not!

Short: Come on. Hop inside, like a good little wallaby, and I’ll get you a beer.

Bald: Skippy, the Bush Kangaroo!

38th Street between 5th and 6th Avenues isn’t the most exciting block in Manhattan, but The Australian is doing its bit to liven things up. It’s a large, open space with high ceilings, a long, impressive wooden bar and stylish lighting.

Bald: Judging from the numerous, large flat-screen TVs, The Australian probably attracts a big expatriate crowd when Australia is playing any kind of sport. And I mean any kind of sport. Australians, generally, are the most sports obsessed people on the planet.

I once went to a production of Romeo and Juliet at the Sydney Opera House, and when the Capulets and Montagues first announced their mutual enmity, half the audience started shouting, “Go the Capulets. Come on, the Cappys!” Of course, the other half were chanting with equal fervor, “Give us an M!” etc. Knowing how the play ended, I made quite a bit of money that night.

But the views through the back windows of The Australian are astonishing! We must be a lot higher up than we thought.

Short: I’ve been there!

Bald: Now I’m getting homesick. The harbor, the bush, the Great Ocean Road. Can I hear me dear, old, mum callin’ me in for tucker?

Short: No. That’s my stomach growling. Let’s order!

Short: I took this photo especially for Bald. When he was a kid, he used to visit the Sydney suburb of Manly on the north side of the harbor, where his grandparents lived. One day, on a trip across the harbor on the Manly ferry, his grandfather took him up to the wheelhouse where the captain let him steer the boat for a few minutes. His whole family was below wondering what he was up to. Little did they know.

Bald: Unfortunately, my secret plan to hijack the ferry and sail away to Tahiti was foiled by the wily captain and that pesky dolphin! Next time, Flipper! Next time! Or was it Skippy, the Bush Kangaroo? Dolphin/Kangaroo – they’re all the same. Do-gooders!

This ferry is the South Steyne. It’s the largest remaining steam ferry in the world; having been beautifully restored, it’s now berthed in the heart of Darling Harbor, right on the western edge of the Sydney CBD. Check it out when you’re there.

Bald: And check out me mum’s place!

The list of Aussie beers at The Australian is surprisingly short.

Short: What’s wrong with short. I like short. Many people like short. You got a problem with short?

Bald: Get up on the chair where I can see you.

Short: Actually, the list of Aussie beers at the Australian has been shaved very close to the skin. In fact, it’s pretty much bald. I tried to convince Bald to have an Aussie beer, like a Cooper’s, but he insisted on having a New Zealand beer, which was on special. When I argued that he should have Australian instead of New Zealand, he said, “Same thing.” You read it here, folks. Let the trans-Tasman war begin!

Bald: Go the Aussies! Come on the Kiwis! I’ll have five bucks on the Montagues.

Actually, Moa Beer is an exceptional beer. Like champagne, it’s fermented in the bottle giving it an intense, fizzy quality and a rich, layered, rosy flavor. It’s from a small, independent New Zealand brewery – unlike Tooheys, which is a large, commercial operation. Tooheys New is beer. Just. And not so new. Dad used to swear by it: “Chuck us a bloody beer!”

There’s a generous list of appetizers at The Australian with a number of Australian sounding dishes.

Short: Australian sounding? What does that mean?

Bald: More on that in a second.

We ordered the New Zealand (Bald: “Same thing”) Snapper and Blue Crabmeat Cigars baked in light filo pastry, served with kaffir lime rouille ($13.00)

Bald: Your verdict, Short?

Short: Light. The delicate filo pastry crunches and inside you have a paste of minced seafood. The dipping sauce is sweet and spicy – like you might find in a Thai restaurant. Pretty good, actually.

Bald: I enjoyed it too. But it tasted a bit too cheesy to me, which seemed to overpower the sweet crab and snapper flavor that I’d been looking forward to. Good, but I would have liked them to allow a bit more of the seafoody flavor.

The side salad was a nice addition. Well presented and a good size for two.

Short: We’re being very well behaved today, don’t you think?

Bald: Yes. Please, have another piece, my love.

Short: Hmmm. Something’s going on…Anyway, what’s your thing about “Australian sounding” food. I guess the question is, what do you think makes a dish Australian?

Bald: That’s exactly it. Being in an Australian restaurant in New York raises the delicate question: Is there really an “Australian cuisine?” I mean more than a touristy, jokey thing like vegemite on toast, or “Wallaby Wings” (meaning Buffalo wings, which really means chicken wings. Following?)

In earlier entries, we’ve discussed the fascinating fusion that happens when a colonizing culture blends with an indigenous one (SEE BRAZIL, VIETNAM). In the case of Australia, that has only begun to happen fairly recently, and more in upmarket restaurants than average Aussie kitchens. The lack of fusion also probably speaks volumes about the nature of Australia’s colonization; an especially sad history which can’t be dealt with here in any meaningful way.

Trendy restaurants do now serve indigenous staples like kangaroo and barramundi (a delicate freshwater fish – see below), and we even found “emu carpaccio” on an online menu at 8 Mile Creek in New York, but we’re mainly talking about an adoption of ingredients, rather than a style of cuisine.

Bald: To be honest, my limited education on the subject tells me that aboriginal cuisine did not involve a lot of preparation (apart from extracting poisons from certain berries, nuts and nectars.) Most meat, fish and vegetarian foods were prepared fairly simply and cooked or smoked over an open fire.

In lush coastal and inland river regions, there were plenty of fish and shellfish, crocodiles, as well as large marsupials like kangaroo, wallaby and birds like wild duck, goose and swan. In inland desert regions, where food sources were more limited, witchety grubs, snakes, lizards and a wide range of seeds and berries found their way onto the menu.

Anyway, modern Australian chefs are learning more and more about the rich variety of foods native to Australia, and how they were prepared, which is forging a unique Australian cuisine, and helping move the diet further away from the traditional English menu which dominated Australian cooking from the era of white settlement up until the explosion of non-western European immigration in the mid-1950’s.

Now, of course, the biggest influence on Australian’s taste buds is coming from nearby neighbors; Vietnam, Thailand, Indonesia, Malaysia and even China, Korea, Japan and India. Modern Aussie cuisine is marked by its use of the lush, abundant local produce, wildlife and seafood, combined with a wonderful blend of Asian and European flavors and techniques.

Short: So, the short answer to your question, Bald, about whether there is a unique Australian cuisine?

Bald: Yes. But only fairly recently.

For our main courses, we chose two very Aussie dishes. This one was called Aussie Lamb Roast (slices of baked leg of lamb with roast potatoes, butternut squash, sweet potato and baby onions, cauliflower, peas and corn, gravy and mint jelly: $20.00).

It’s a meal that dates back to the days of English settlement when the colonizers introduced sheep and cattle along with ye olde worlde English recipes.

Bald: It was abso-bloody-lutely delicious! It took me straight back to the days of the Sunday roast at home in the hot summer afternoon in country Australia. It was almost as good as mum’s lamb roast.

The meat was very moist, flavorsome and thinly sliced. The gravy was a tasty mix of onion, wine and cooking juices.

The main courses at The Australian go from the Sausage rolls ($12.00), to the Australian burger with the lot (including egg, bacon, onions and cheese) for $14.00

Bald: Any self-respecting Aussie Burger with the lot should also include beetroot and pineapple. Something not quite right here…

Right up to the Australian Tasting for Two with sticky prawns, lamb roast, and barramundi with choice of single dessert for $55.00

Short: This lamb was so moist! I don’t normally like lamb, but this was my favorite lamb dish ever – apart from Bald’s mum’s lamb. Which is the absolute, very best. (I might be short, but I’m a clever daughter-in-law!)

Bald: Can’t you just see the moist, lamby flavor here?

Bald: Nothing like roasted winter vegetables! I know it’s summer in New York right now, but that’s just how we have roast vegetables in Australia. Doesn’t matter how hot it gets outside, we slave over the hot stove cooking the roasted meat and beautiful vegies like these. Rosemary, garlic, olive oil, pepper, a touch of salt, in the oven for a couple hours…and Bob’s your uncle! Delicious!

Bald: This was the only off-note in this otherwise authentic Aussie style dish. Looks and tastes more like American mac n’ cheese than anything I’ve seen served at an Aussie dinner table. Australians love cauliflower, and string beans for that matter, and sometimes it’s cooked with a light cheese topping, but never floating in a cheesey-sea like this.

Mint sauce (or in this case, jelly) is “compulsory” and delicious with roast lamb. This is a commercially bought jelly, but traditionally, you’d use home- made mint sauce. Why? Because it’s home- made!

Bald’s Mum (via memory phone): Go out under the tank stand and pick a handful of fresh mint. Chop it up, put it into a saucepan with some malt vinegar and a couple of tablespoons of sugar. Let it boil, then simmer, adding water if it’s too strong. And take those bloody thongs off! You’re traipsing squashed plums all through the house.

Bald: We once lived in a house with plum, apricot and peach trees right in the back yard. Fruit fight!

Nowadays, it’s all mint jelly bought straight from the supermarket. Nice, but not “real”.

For her main course, Short ordered Pan Seared Barramundi ($25.00). The menu says, “with roasted pepper, artichokes and potato cakes stuffed with bacon.”

Bald: I’m an Aussie, so it can’t be a matter of something being “lost in translation!” There are no potato cakes here stuffed with anything. More like a bed of tapioca sized balls of couscous…

If anyone can help us work out what these balls were, we’d love to know!

Though Barramundi is an iconic Australian fish, it is also found in South East Asia, Papua New Guinea, and even up into the Persian Gulf where it is called Asian Seabass, Giant Sea Perch, or Siakap in Malaysia. The word barramundi comes from an Aboriginal tribe in Queensland and it means, “large-scaled river fish.”

Barramundi is found in both oceans and rivers and estuaries, but is usually thought of as a freshwater fish, because of the taste of its flesh. The flesh is light and flaky, and because barramundi spend a lot of time feeding for molluscs and shellfish in muddy estuaries, it has a strong, muddy flavor.

Short: That’s what I didn’t like about it…

It was beautifully presented, and the crunchy rub on top tasted delicious.

Short: The fish was baked really nicely. I liked the crunchy spices on top…but the taste of the flesh… mud, mud, mud! I wanted to like it, but I just couldn’t get used to it.

Short: Looks great, doesn’t it? Why can’t barramundi get out of the mud a bit more? Then it might not taste like mud. You are what you eat, Mr. Barramundi! Wait a minute…What does that make me?!

Short: This dish kind of missed the mark for me. The bed of balls underneath wasn’t that flavorsome, the fish was muddy, and it came with this little bowl of yoghurt, which I didn’t really know what to do with. So I emptied it into Bald’s bag while he wasn’t looking. Just for a laugh. You know how it is when you get bored…

Bald: Yoghurt mixed with library book. Mmmmm. Delicious! Actually, I didn’t mind this dish. I’ve had barramundi before, and while I would never say it’s my favorite fish, it is a taste you can get used to and quite enjoy. Especially when it’s cooked with a delicious rub like this one. The flesh is really delicate. But the balls and bits and pieces with this meal were very… forgettable.

Dessert! Pavlova! Or Pav! The QUINTESSENTIAL Australian dessert. A large meringue shell, crisp on the outside and moist inside, filled with whipped cream and topped with fresh fruit, particularly passion fruit, strawberries, bananas and kiwi fruit.

Pavlova was created in honor of the great Russian ballet dancer, Anna Pavlova, who toured Australia and New Zealand in the 1920’s. There’s a big war being waged right now over whether Pav was invented in New Zealand or Australia (Bald: “Same thing”) but cries of “Go the Kiwis!” and “Aussie! Aussie! Pav! Pav! Pav!” can be heard ringing out across the Tasman Ocean to this day.

Short: This was a cute little, delicious pav. Of course, it wasn’t half as delicious as Bald’s mother’s pavlova’s, which are sometimes as big as a table. I’m getting BIG points in this entry.

Bald: That’s my Short. Nothing like a good, home made Pav!

Our Overall Opinion of The Australian:

1. The food is of a high standard. Delicious, and with a good selection of Australian dishes.

2. The prices are reasonable, especially for this area.

3. The service was fine, if not particularly Australian. We didn’t hear an Aussie accent while we were there.

4. The decor is stylish, with a large front bar and comfortable booth seating in the main dining area at the back.

5. But, there is something missing here. No real atmosphere. Nothing really special that makes you want to rush back. A bit…un-Australian, actually. Nothing daring or in your face. All a bit gentle and generic.

Well, that’s our trip to The Australian. We’ll be visiting the outback continent via subway again in the future, but before that, we have some other great adventures coming up! Got your metrocard-passport? I can hear them paging you at the ticket barrier!