The Queens Hotel

In our view, the Queens is somewhere you tend to go when a somebody who is from Perth but living in London or over east is home for Christmas and has organised drinks. It’s big, it’s central, its well-known and out-of-towners generally don’t realise there are several better places to drink in the same area.

These organised drinks are sometimes difficult at the Queens, because on a Friday or Saturday night the place is packed and they have exactly 3 staff manning the bar and 2 of those are trainees. While the beer selection is fantastic, the wine list is pretty average and as far as we are aware, no one has ever had a satisfactory gin and tonic at the Queens (we cannot stand those tiny tiny tumblers the mixed drinks come in). This means it’s kind of difficult to get drunk, which can make for a very frustrating Friday night.

Our views changed somewhat after our meal at the Queens. It was a sweltering evening when we, along with our good friends Double Skulls and F, hit the Queens. We had made a reservation some time before to make sure we had a table on the decking, so we had a great position in which to enjoy the balmy night and Double Skulls’ hilarious conversation.

Our waitress was not exactly friendly and seemed to be constantly frantic - she did everything we needed but not always quickly because she seemed to have about 300 hundred other tables to run. As we have already mentioned, the Queens is consistently under-staffed resulting in pretty average, impersonal service.

We started with beers all round and a bottle of wine, and soon moved onto an entree of spiced Moroccan calamari on cous cous, quesadillas and cacciatore. We do not think we have been to a restaurant yet and not ordered some form of squid (other than Rembrandt, but that’s only because the Poles are generally not well known for their calamari dishes). This squid was pretty good – it was reasonably tender and dusted with a mild Moroccan spice served on a bed of spiced cous cous. The quesadillas weren’t bad, but in comparison to the quesadillas at the Brisbane which are beautiful and thin and crispy and come with shitloads of salsa, guacamole and sour cream, they’re not quite as delicious.

For the mains, the Deliberator ordered a 400g rib eye steak with mushroom sauce and chips. His critical and considered review of the steak was that, and we quote, it was ‘all good’. He also noted that he gnawed the bone till his fingers bleed AND that the BWS next door is open to midnight Mon to Sat. Thanks Deliberator. On a strange and what turned out to be a very ill-considered whim, The Brains ordered the vegetarian option, which was a haloumi and vegetable strudel with a broad bean salad. The strudel was quite a nasty puff pastry affair that contained over half a tin of olive oil in it which made it pretty much inedible. But, it was the broad bean salad that stunned Brains – it was basically a few baby spinach leaves topped with unshelled (yes! unshelled!) broad beans. Who eats the skin of the broad bean? There wasn’t even dressing. The whole thing seemed unfished, but still, the disappointment was entirely her fault for being so stupid as to order a vegetarian dish. She will never do it again.

BOOTO’s kangaroo on a tomato and roasted red onion salad with a beetroot relish and was absolutely fabulous. The kanga could have a been a bit thinner sliced and a bit more rare, but on the whole was delish. It is worth mentioning that when she ordered, the waitress pointed out that the kangaroo was currently not being served in its usual manner (ie crusted), which ended up to be a plus given that kangaroo is a tasty enough meat that crumbs it needed not. The only real negative was The Brains looking longingly at her meal.

Meanwhile the Sponge was consuming his dinner which consisted of 100 pints and some scotch. Oh, and weisswurst sausages and mash. The mushroom jus on the sausage was allegedly ‘simply to die for’. F’s ‘barramundi’ on the other hand was a bit muscular, F thought that it had either been working out or had been using steroids. Therefore, F’s highlight was watching the Deliberator and finish the night by smoking the bone of his giant steak. Double Skulls chose the linguini with prawns which she thought was pretty tasty.

So all up, an enjoyable night with some unexpected food highlights – in summary:

Service: Efficient enough, but impersonal and not overly friendly. A smile or 2 would never go astray.

Food: A slightly mixed bag, but more positives than negatives.

Ambience: The decking area was a lovely place to be on a super hot night.

Highlight: The mushroom jus.

Lowlight: Some long waits for drinks and unshelled broad beans.

Rating: 3.7 fat yaks out of 5.

Will we be back: While we won’t fall over ourselves to get back, there’s no doubt that some function or other will be held there that we will be attending. And that won’t be a bad thing.

Details: The Queens is at 520 Beaufort Street Perth – they have a helpful website at www.thequeens.com.au; and their number is 9328 7267. The bill for 3 shared entrees, 6 main meals, 2 bottles of wine, 100 pints and some scotch came to roughly $70 per head.

2 Fat Indians

Having had a pretty average experience at 2 Fat Indians in Cottesloe (which probably had more to do with being in Cottesloe than anything else), and being reasonably sceptical of this strange Indian chain restaurant thing that seems to be taking over Perth, the bloggers were not super fired up about their trip to 2 Fat Indians on Beaufort Street, but, as usual, tried to keep an open mind.

When we arrived we were warmly greeted and promptly shown to our enormous table. The table was huge. At least 30 people could sit around that table, so it would be perfect for the 4 of us and the 5 or 6 wine coolers they would require. We took in the atmosphere and were impressed by the understated but rather beautiful décor, fresh flowers, calming lighting and appropriate yet slightly wanky Indian lounge music.

The wine list was also impressive - an excellent selection of varying prices, regions and varietals - and all the appropriate beers to boot. So, in that stuffwhitepeoplelike kind of way, we felt obliged to order a couple of rounds of Kingfisher beers before we moved onto the first of our 4 bottles of white wine.

To the food. Instead of the menu, the waitress accidentally gave us each a copy of Britannica's Encyclopaedia of Indian Cuisine. The list of foods was staggering. The Starters menu was divided into 6 separate sections - vegetarian, chicken, lamb, seafood, platters and 'sizzlers' - each section had at least 6 selections and some selections had options. Christ. Asking the Deliberator to choose a starter would be like taking an epileptic to a rave - something terrible would happen so you just wouldn't do it. In fact, choosing a starter was even troubling to the Brains, who loves nothing more than to order for the whole table without paying heed to anyone's suggestions, preferences, food allergies or pregnancy status.

So, there was no way round it, it had to be a platter and, just to see what the hell they were, a sizzler. On the side we ordered Calamari Chilli Mili, which was calamari deep fried and tossed with vegetables and Indian spices. The platter comprised of samosas, paneer bhatti tikka, lamb seekh kebab, macchi amritsari, murgh malai kebab. We're embarrassed to admit that we don't know our macchi from our murgh or our bhatti from our amristari but it was all pretty bloody delicious. The sizzler was a combination of prawn, fish and chicken, cooked with onion, capsicum and kadahi masala gravy (ie, tandoori). The tandoori'd products were succulent, full of heat and piping hot. So far so very good. But it was the calamari that was the stand out – tender pieces of spicy squid quickly fried and served with (not too many) fresh vegetables. Impressive.

Moving to the mains. If we thought ordering starters was a chore, mains were practically impossible. The same 6 headings came up again, each with several selections, but this time with the addition of goat. After much bickering, backstabbing and juvenile squabbling, we landed on baby goat curry, palak paneer, lamb saagwala and murgh peshawari (which was chicken) and at least $350 worth of condiments, breads and rices. The best part about Indian food is the sides.

The goat curry was the standout, the meat was strong and the saffron flavouring was fabulous. The Deliberator loves nothing more than sucking on the bones of a dead baby goat, so he was in heaven. The rest of us had to endure around half and hour listening to him slurp out the marrow and chew off microscopic bits of meat left on the bone, then loudly spit the bones into the little metal serving bowl, ensuing each bone made maximum noise on departure from his mouth. The palak paneer was also a highlight, with the paneer being of the finest home-style quality which most definitely did not taste like the cans of palak paneer The Deliberator and The Brains so love to buy from Prime Products. The other dishes were good, but frankly, it is hard to distinguish them from similar dishes served at every other similarly priced and styled Indian restaurant in Perth, including: Bollywood, Nine Mary's, Chutney Mary's, Little Chutney's, Mela, the Cinnamon Club - the list probably goes on.

Of course, we had over ordered, so dessert was not on the cards. Instead, the Bloggers rounded out the night by lying on Booto's and The Sponge's couches, rubbing our bellies and discussing what form the meal would take in the morning (incidentally, that conversation continued by email for most of the next day).

In summary

Service: The service was really good actually, there was always someone around ready to bring us more wine. At one stage a waiter smashed a beer bottle on our table, but the apology was quick, the clean-up even quicker, and as a result we couldn't have cared less about it.

Food: Fresh ingredients, appropriate heat, tender meats and great condiments. However, not so amazing we couldn't wait to get back.

Ambience: Perfect - a great mix of low lighting, casual seating and spa-like décor made us feel like we could sit there for hours. So we did.

Highlight: The goat curry.

Lowlight: The Deliberator sucking the goats bones dry.

Rating: 3.5 goat femurs out of 5.

Will we be back: Hard to say really. Probably. Maybe. We don't know. Indian's hard, it's not something we eat all that regularly so when we do we tend to try new places. It is 100% better than its Cottesloe sister though.

Details: 2 Fat Indians is next door to the Queens Hotel. Call them on 9228 0720. It is fully licensed and our meal plus drinks came to about $70 per head. But we did over order and drink far too much.

PS: apologies, we could only find a picture of one fat Indian.

New years resolutions

As the Beaufort Street Bloggers sat by BOOTO and the Sponge’s pool, each with a glass of the cheapest Prosecco money can buy and a handful of Samboy Salt and Vinegars, we reflected on the year that was. There were some memorable moments in 2009 – Stinky had his first birthday and first European vacation, BOOTO returned to the workforce, The Deliberator and The Brains managed to order, and receive, a whole baby pig in Bali (that's him on the right) and The Sponge got a new front lawn. Yes, 2009 was a successful year for all.

Of course, there were disappointments. The Brains scored the least Brownlow votes in season one of her and BOOTO’s Tuesday night netball team. BOOTO didn’t get the bathroom renovation she’s been dreaming of. The Sponge did not quite reach his goal of 1 million beers drunk for 2009. Stinky’s salty snack intake is not nearly as high as he desires. And a BBQ duck house is yet to open within 20 metres of The Deliberator’s front door. But there was a unanimous agreement among the bloggers, the biggest disappointment of 2009 was the failure to complete the Beaufort Street Challenge.

Since the last post, we have regularly breakfasted at Soto, we once had the entire Beaufort Street Merchant menu in one sitting (and that’s not a word of a lie), we have enjoyed the view from the bar upstairs at the Scottsman, eaten charcuterie at Must, ordered countless serves of tempura prawns with wasabi mayonnaise from Koinonia and consumed Third Avenue café’s Café De Paris butter on at least 2 occasions. However, none of these meals qualified for the blog due to quorum issues.

With a new babysitter for Stinky, a fresh outlook for 2010 and a 4 insatiable appetites, the Beaufort Street Bloggers are back on track to meet their challenge. Thank you for your comments and emails of encouragement. We hope you forgive our tardiness and continue to support our mission – god knows we need it when we embark upon another year of slightly too tight pants and empty wallets.

Stay tuned for the first 2010 instalment of the Beaufort Street Blog.

Little Saigon

Booto and the Sponge, having known the Deliberator for far too long, made a booking at Little Saigon for 8.00, but wisely told the Deliberator the reservation was for 7.30. As 7.30 approached, Booto and the Sponge casually went about their business, attending to Stinks and discussing their pre-dinner snifter (‘was this the $5 white from the Re Store?’, ‘oh, no no no, this one was $7.80 from Dan Murphy’s… so don’t quaff it, enjoy the fine flavours and sip slowly woman’). However, for possibly the first time in the Deliberator’s 1.5 year history of Beaufort Street Blogging, the Deliberator was home, dressed, shoed, washed, texting the others furiously and ready for action by 7.20. This left Booto, the Sponge and the Brains in a never-before-experienced situation. They were going to be early.

On arrival at Little Saigon, the Bloggers were happy to discover their pre-booked table ready to go, complete with a high chair for Stinks. Booto, the Brains and Stinks happily sorted themselves out while the Deliberator and the Sponge went across the road to the Merchant for more of their favourite cheap piss. During their absence, our fabulous waitress made all the appropriate looks, sounds and movements in front of Stinky to keep Stinks well pleased with himself for the next 2.5 hours.

Entrees arrived and they were tremendous. We ordered 2 serves of prawn and potato cakes, 1 serve of stuffed chicken wings and 2 serves of rice-paper rolls with hot (hot!) beef. The prawn and potato cakes are outstanding – shredded sweet potato wrapped around a huge, plump prawn and deep fried till crisp. There’s so much surface area on these things that there must be about 4 tablespoons of oil in each one, which makes ordering them very worthwhile. The stuffed chicken wings were not the monsters we’re used to, but were far more flavoursome than their Viet Hoa or Phi Yen counterparts. And fresh rice paper rolls with steaming hot crispy beef? Heaven. We really wanted to try the stuffed squid but couldn’t justify more food – could someone please try it and let us know how it is?

While we smashed our entrées and bottles of cheap wine numbers 1 and 2, we watched other people’s mains pass us by, until one looked so fantastic we stopped the waitress on her way out the kitchen and asked what it was. It was the old Vietnamese favourite, lemongrass and chilli chicken, but it was done better than anywhere else we could recall. For mains we also chowed down on a plate of lightly deep friend salt and pepper squid (fast becoming a benchmark we use to compare all Beaufort Street eateries) which was perfect, pork with anchovy sauce (amazing ribs cooked in that pan-Asian method - being grill the shit out the food, add salt, serve), goat curry (which was delicious, but a bit sinewey and tripey, and loaded with cloves, and although we consider ourselves adventurous, apart from the Deliberator we are all a bit more Caucasian than we’d like to think when it comes to food preferences), and finally, on a crazy and embarrassing whim, mixed vegetables. All in all outstanding Vietnamese cuisine.

And now to the service. What a delight. The fellow who took our order was charming, courteous and ever-so-friendly. And our waitress, who turned out to be the chef’s sister, quickly fell in love with Stinky (and who wouldn’t?). Stinky got cuddles, kisses, 2 trips to the kitchen to meet the chef, a couple of photos with the waitress and even a free Vietnamese desert.

Our meals came out in good time, we were quickly supplied with the 5 or 6 ice buckets we needed, the Sponge smashed a glass which was swiftly swept up and replaced with a minimum of fuss (he also managed to smash another one later that evening on the Balcony of Broken Dreams. This time, with the Deliberator as the host, there was a maximum amount of fuss and a refusal to replace, leaving poor old Sponge drinking straight from the bottle for the rest of the evening) and smiles all round from the wait staff.

In summary:

Service: A joy. Particularly thanks to the due appreciation the staff showed for Stinky’s fine looks and impeccable behaviour.

Food: Really really good, flavoursome, fresh Vietnamese food.

Ambience: A cosy restaurant lit with pretty Vietnamese silk lanterns. The Aerosmith CD was an dd choice though.

Highlight: Definitely the crispy potato cakes with prawns.

Lowlight: Nothing really. While the goat curry didn’t float our boat (except the Deliberator's), it was an ordering problem, not a cooking problem.

Rating: 4.4 goi cuon out of 5.

Will we be back: Absolutely. It’s a perfect place to take parents too – good food, not too noisy and it’s not grimy and plasticy like the Vietnamese restaurants in Northbridge (and no disrespect to those places, we love them, but we know the older generation sometimes struggle with them).

Details: Little Saigon is located at 489 Beaufort St, and can be contacted by phone on 9227 5586. Reservations are strongly recommended. 3 good sized entrees and 4 mains plus vegetables and rice came to a low low $35 a head.

Veritas Restaurant

It is hard for the Bloggers to imagine there even was a time before the BSB – it feels like we have been tramping up and down this bloody road for decades, much like Kane from Kung Fu. Or the Littlest Hobo. Or Michael Landon from Highway to Heaven.

However, many years ago in the pre-BSB dreamtime, the Bloggers (then just 3 friends and the Deliberator) dined at Veritas and were gravely disappointed. The food was a standout, however lingering delays (ie. dining at 10:30pm after an 8pm booking) and woeful service marred the occasion. Not to be dissuaded, the Bloggers visited Veritas last week in their professional capacity. (The real Bloggers that is – see comments under the Beaufort Street Merchant review.)

This time, it was our turn to keep Veritas waiting - our 8pm booking turned into 8:45pm by the time the Deliberator had got his pants on. We had phoned ahead to warn of our impending tardiness, but were still a little ticked off when the waitress on our arrival told us that the kitchen was closing so we’d better hurry up and order. We were also told not to expect any specials whatsoever, as they’d sold out of everything due to demand (which demand was not then evident, there being only 3 other occupied tables).

Unperturbed, we assumed our places. And immediately noticed that Veritas is a very stylish joint – great décor and art, with the wine menu occupying an entire wall a standout. We were also quite fond of the couch-like seats we occupied. (Alanah McTiernan, sitting next table, appeared to be enjoying hers too.) Our orders were taken (quickly), at which point the waiter (owner?) gave us a very knowing rundown of the ingredients and method of preparation of each dish we’d ordered. This rundown did became a little overbearing as it unfolded. And unfolded. Still we were glad for the attention. The waitress too showed an intimate knowledge of both food and wine when quizzed, and answered our dumb-ass questions with aplomb.

On to the food: starters consisted of shared plates of squid, anchovies in tomato sauce and bread. And were f*cking good. The squid was perfectly weighted, and we’ve had to open a new category of "Best Anchovies on Beaufort St" just so that we could anoint this batch as the winner.

Mains were a marinated chicken dish with a "special kind of salad" (Booto), lamb served with "a delicious pumpkin stack which I really enjoyed" (Brains), very nicely done steak portions (Sponge) and little dainty goat cutlets (Deliberator). Actually, the Deliberator was a little disappointed with his, only on the basis that every goat he has eaten previously still has a bell hanging around its neck, but we thought it looked amazing. In any event, the obligatory "pattatini for the table" were "some of the best chips [the Deliberator has] eaten".

All this was washed down with a very nice temperanillo and a chardonnay (both recommended by our waitress), however we did feel that the wine list could have contained a couple more reasonably priced options (both reds and whites tending to start at around $45-$50).
We declined coffee and desert (in favour of a small nightcap at Must, which boded well for our impending visit there), and were left to mop up at our leisure.

Price came in at around $75 a head for shared starters, mains and wine. We would certainly say the food and ambience warranted the price, however think that there were still sufficient rough edges to not quite justify Veritas charging at the top end of the market (eg. the sometimes hit-and-miss service, the unwashed hair and old cargo pants sported by the front of house guy – please take this as constructive criticism!)

Mind you, with the food and layout as good as it was, something is very wrong in the world when Martino is only charging $20 less per head (without taking into account that we’d also BYO’ed there) - wake up Martino!

In summary:

Service: After a shaky beginning, service was good. And while the informative, but lengthy, interruptions weren’t always the most well-timed, we appreciated the effort and preferred them to the alternative of being ignored (as happened on our last visit).

Food: Top notch. Current holder of "Best Anchovies on Beaufort Street" title.

Ambience: Small and intimate, and immaculately decked out. (Toilets could do with a little polish though.)

Highlight: The starters – the squid and anchovy combo were exceptional.

Lowlight: The top-heavy wine list. And the cargo pants.

Rating: 3.8 succulent anchovies out of 5.

Will we be back: Possibly, however with Must just across the road, and (appearing to) offer the same thing for the same price, but done slightly better, it will be tough.

Details: Veritas is located at 484 Beaufort St, and can be contacted by phone on 9227 9745.

Caffe Martino

With Stinks in tow on this particular Thursday night, the Bloggers decided to avail themselves of a family orientated cheap pasta night at Caffe Martino.

It must be said we held no lofty expectations as we departed home with our usual 12 bottles of BYO wine. The night was a little breezy and the prospect of some good solid Italian food to warm the cockles was sitting well with the Bloggers.

Martino’s was relatively empty for a Thursday night on Beaufort Street and the Bloggers were seated with a minimum of fuss, complete with high chair for Stinks, who was more than a little excited at being allowed to stay up later than usual.

The menus presented by Martino were typical, with nothing terribly exciting or new catching the eye of any of the Bloggers (and we do know the Deliberator does peruse a menu at least three times over per visit). Starters ordered included squid, Italian sausage and garlic bread. Boring perhaps, yet in the Bloggers’ opinion, the simplicity of such dishes can be a great yardstick when measuring the worth of any Italian restaurant.

It was at this stage that the cracks began to show. There was no lemon served with either the Italian sausage or the squid. The garlic bread was dry and overcooked, although BOOTO was able to salvage small pieces to feed to Stinks, who it must be said is not fussy about what he eats (having come nightmarishly close to eating a cockroach recently).

Mains ordered included 2 x chicken parmagianas (the Sponge and Deliberator of course), Gnocchi (Brains), the fish of the day (BOOTO) and of course, the obligatory bowl of chips for the table.

Brains’ gnocchi was well presented and although she’s had fresher pasta, all in all the dish was bland, but satisfactory. The Sponge and Deliberator could also make no certain complaints with regards the chicken parma, although given it is a dish they regular partake of, they were well able to declare that it “okay”. Breaths were held in anticipation of BOOTO’s fish of the day (salmon), however this was soon replaced with disappointment. The term “home made” can conjure up images of a real Italian experience, but in this instance, home made came in the form of a plate of grilled salmon and slightly wilted salad (minus any dressing). Being someone who keeps on top of her omega 3 intake, BOOTO was, to say the least, quite disappointed with the lack of flair shown in this dish – with a price tag of $37.00, one does expect a little of evidence of effort.

Now as you read this review, you may be excused for thinking the Bloggers had set their expectations too high prior to dining at Caffe Martino, but indeed we had not. We were quite ready for the Sienna style no frills cheap pasta night and although we do think a little lemon with the entrees ordered together with a drizzle of dressing on one’s salad or even the offer of cracked pepper and parmesan cheese is not too much to ask of a restaurant (particularly when you consider this restaurant was more than half empty on this given Thursday night), it was upon presentation of the bill that we realised Caffe Martino has a very high opinion of itself.

For the night’s decidedly average food, we were met with the sort of figure you come to expect when having dined on tasty, inventive food in ambient surrounds that appear to have been redecorated in the last 15 – 20 years. Alas, the Bloggers had dined at Caffe Martino and paid the princely sum of $50.00 a head for shared starters and pretty basic mains.

In summary

Service: Not bad, but then again the place was half empty. Points off however for not offering either cracked pepper or parmesan. We must note however that despite being the last patrons in the restaurant, we were not hurried along.

Food: Just “okay”. Nothing set the world on fire and old favourites were not done exceptionally well either. The Bloggers could probably forgive this if the prices were reflective of the quality of the food.

Ambience: Outdated décor with a very family feel to it (i.e. you wouldn’t get worried about Stinks spilling food on the floor or making too much noise).

Highlight: The bowl of chips were much to the liking of both the Deliberator and Stinky. But even they came in at a princely sum of $8 for McCains quality. No hand cut chips here.

Lowlight: The prices.

Rating: 2.5 not so cheap fish of the day out of 5

Will we be back: Probably not. There are many family friendly, reasonably priced Italian restaurants in the area with much better food than that offered at Caffe Martino.

Details: Caffe Martino is situate at 550 Beaufort St Mt Lawley WA 6050 and is open from Monday to Saturday for dinner from 6pm to 11pm. Bookings can be made on (08) 9328 4400.

Mykonos Greek Restaurant

To be on the safe side, the Brains thought she’d ring Mykonos to book a suitable table for the Bloggers. The friendly waiter told her that 8.00pm would be fine, and confirmed that he would put a table aside, close to the footpath, with plenty of space for Stinky’s pram.

At 7.45, the Bloggers quickly popped into the Beaufort Street Merchant, picked up 4 bottles of their new favourite cheap Chardonnay and a 6 pack of beers, and set off across the road to enjoy a whole lot of meat, a shitload of chips and something, anything, with garlic sauce. We were very much looking forward to Greek grilled meat feast.

On arrival it was clear that no table had been put aside. Interestingly our names were on their booking sheet, but there were just no tables available. So, our Greek waitress (cleverly disguised as a Japanese backpacker) directed us to the shitty mezzanine floor that’s decorated like a State prison and furnished like a 1960s bus port.

And, alone, from our lofty position high above the humming crowd at Mykonos, we waited. And continued to wait. And for 15 minutes we received none of the following:

1. service

2. wine cooler

3. bottle opener

4. cutlery

5. wine glasses

6. menus

So, we walked downstairs and fetched another Greek waitress, this one in ingeniously disguised as a Chinese English student, and asked her to help us out with the 5 items listed above, as all we had so far were 3 tumblers. After a couple more trips downstairs, and another 15 minutes, we procured ourselves 4 mismatched wine glasses and some menus. The menus were interesting, a half a page of the menu was dedicated entirely to setting out the strict terms and conditions attached to ordering, eating, paying, drinking, etc - like we were entering into some sort of Deed of Eternal Disappointment.

Items 1 to 4 never arrived, leaving the Deliberator and the Sponge to crack open their beers using the side of the chipboard table we were sitting at, and Bito and the Brains drinking wine that was positively sweating.

After reviewing the terms and conditions on the menu, we ordered the trusty tasting plate for entrée, with a large portion of calamari. The pickled octopus on the platter (a team favourite) wasn’t bad, and the dips were fine and the calamari was crispy and fresh. Everything else was a greasy, cold, oily mess. There was also a lot of garnish dressed up as salad on the plate, which was largely inedible and a giant waste of space.

When our mains arrived, we hadn’t finished the platter, so the Sino-Hellenic waitress simply popped our mains ON TOP of our platter and entrée plates. This was quite stunning, and something we’ve never seen before.

It’s hard for us to discuss the mains themselves as they were completely and utterly inedible – and generally, we eat anything. We each left meat on the plate, and plenty of it. This has never ever happened before to the Deliberator and the Sponge. But really, the food was foul. The meat could have been used as a shotput, the spices were completely wrong, the fish was ok, but only just, and the sauces lacked any flavour whatsoever. All in all, it was unbelievably, horribly bad. Which was very strange considering we’d all had very passable kebabs from Mykonos in the past.

We eventually went downstairs to pay the bill. By now, we were unhappy, spiteful and really really pissed off. And to just really hammer home the general shithouse nature of the night, we were charged double the corkage for the privilege of us getting our own wine glasses, and having our wine left sweltering in its paper bags on the table all night. Mykonos, if you’re reading this, you are by far and away the worst restaurant we’ve reviewed on Beaufort Street for service, produce and cooking. At least the Peking Chinese Restaurant had the Chinese Dragon counter.

In summary:

Service: We had a waitress come up twice in 2 hours – once to deliver the entrée, and once to deliver the mains. We were otherwise completely left to our own devices.

Food: So bad its outrageous. And what’s with all the good reviews on eatingwa.com?

Ambience: While the mezzanine floor is awful, the rest of the restaurant has a cheerful, casual Greek-restaurant style ambience.

Highlight: The new curse-words we invented to describe the food. And the calamari wasn’t bad.

Lowlight: Everything else.

Rating: half a lamb kofta (although only beef kofta is available at Mykonos) out of 5.

Will we be back? Sadly, we probably will end up buying more kebabs from Mykonos. But we’ve promised each other to try our best not to.

Details: It’s not even that cheap – about $40 a head for crap. We won’t bother you with a phone number, as we strongly suggest you don’t go. Oh, and it is also worth mentioning that the owner has appeared in the local rag a few times over the last few weeks for allegedly not letting a guide dog in the premises.