Siena's Mt Lawley Pizzeria and Café

Siena’s is not particularly well-regarded among food lovers as a decent place to eat. The Bloggers’ view is no exception, previous visits (which took place many years ago) have been uninspiring – bland food, average service, mass produced pasta with little love or attention to detail. However, we had to go to Siena’s with an open mind, and we were prepared to be surprised.

To make the experience more palatable, it was decided that takeaway Siena’s might be better than dine-in Siena’s. Not sure how this reasoning developed, but it seemed logical at the time. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that Siena’s was not worth a baby-sitter for Stinky.

Our first experience was in placing the order. Helpfully, Siena’s has a good website listing its full menu. We love this, more restaurants should devote time and energy to setting up a website, particularly casual-dining places which do takeaway. The average office worker spends fucking hours on the internet, loves to be immediately informed and doesn’t really want to talk on the phone with a restaurant for longer than needed.

Ordering was a smooth and successful transmission and soon Siena’s was cooking up the following for the Bloggers:

1. arancini balls (2 serves)
2. calamari (1 serve)
3. garlic bread
4. penne al diavolo (penne, spicy Italian sausage, onions,
mushrooms, in a chilli tomato sauce).
5. fettucine Siena (fettucine with prawns, broccoli in vodka flavoured
tomato and cream sauce, sprinkled with chilli flakes)
6. an Isabella pizza (tomato, mozarella, basil, Italian sausage,
olives, onions, artichokes)
7. a meatlovers pizza (Tomato, mozarella, bacon, ham, sausage
and chicken)

Picking up the order was more difficult. The Deliberator and the Brains were entrusted with the role of pick-up and take-home. The Deliberator, starving, sulky and desperate for a drink, made several driving errors that saw him turn right where no right turns were permitted, do a u-turn in the middle of Beaufort Street on a busy Thursday night, run up a curb and then park illegally. The Brains’ constant nit-picking did not help, and at after the car was finally stationary, the Deliberator stormed off the Vietnamese deli across the road, god knows what for, leaving the Brains to pick up and carry what was about 45kg of food. Order and calm resumed shortly thereafter.

As usual, and much to the bewilderment of anyone who actually likes food, Siena’s was packed to the rafters. It’s unbelievably popular, but does anyone know anyone who goes there? Anyway, the order was retrieved, and the only notable thing in relation to the pick-up was that the pizzas were sitting on a the bench a long way from the wood fired oven, so they were dead cold by the time we got them home.

So, to the food. It was fine. Really, it was. The pizzas, although cold, had good crispy bases and nice fresh ingredients. The pasta was not full of flavour, but the ingredients themselves were fine. The arancini were each as big as a cannon ball. The calamari was a disappointment, the takeaway container contained more lettuce than squid, and the squid itself was rubbery. So, all in all pretty much exactly as we expected. While we were not surprised, we weren’t completely put off either.

In summary:

Service: Fine. Standard. Typical.

Food: Fine. Standard. Typical.

Ambience: Busy, loud, happy atmosphere, as always.

Highlight: Giant arancini.

Lowlight: Rubbery squid and cold pizza.

Rating: 2.5 half-price-pasta-and-pizza-nights out of 5.

Will we be back: Very unlikely. For similarly priced Italian we would go to Al Sito up in Inglewood (see previous review), Il Pasto in East Perth or Il Padrino in Northbridge.

Details: Everyone knows where Siena’s is. While we didn’t go on a half price pasta and pizza night, the price was still reasonable, coming in at just under $100 for all that food. We expect there may have been some kind of calculating error there. Siena's website is http://www.sienasmtlawley.com.au/

Coming up: We finally made it back to Diva, a full report will be available soon.

2009

Hi everyone. Thanks for all your emails and comments, it's nice to know we have a reader or 2.

We have not disbanded the blog, we have not lost our jobs (yet), we have not moved overseas/interstate/south of the river and we have not gone into hospital/asylum/a witness protection program.

What we have been doing is getting drunk at Christmas and New Years functions every day since early December which has left us with little time to write. New reviews will commence shortly.

Now is a good opportunity to reflect on what is now a year's worth of work. We have discovered some amazing places which we never would have visited if not for this blog - to name a few - Jessie's Curry Kitchen and Cafe, Third Avenue Cafe, Al Sito, Koinonia and Charco's Charcoal Chicken. We will also mention Cantina 663, but we suspect we would have gone there regardless of whether or not the Beaufort Street Challenge was taken up.

We've also discovered some duds - Peking Chinese Restaurant, Seven Seas (which has thankfully closed down) and Magic Pizza.

It's been a long journey, we thought we would have wrapped it up in 2008, but it looks like we'll go well into the new year. As for future plans - we are considering not stopping at the end of Beaufort Street and going right down through Barrack Street, ending up at Halo on the Barrack Street Jetty (which would give us a wonderful opportunity to see the grandious, beautiful and highly-original Perth ferris wheel up close. That thing is AWESOME). Or, we might have a stab at William Street next, although the MSG we'd get from eating at William Street restaurants once a week would probably never leave our bodies.

As you can see, there's much to be excited about. Happy 2009 food fans, we hope it's a great one for all of you.

Koinonia

Koinonia: the name conjures up images of palm trees, oases, dusky Arabian wenches and fan-waving eunuchs. (Well, for us it does anyway.)

The reality, at least from the outside, appears a little different: Koinonia looks from the street to be a lunch-bar type, set back off the street and up a couple of steps. It is housed in the uninspired cream-bricked and new-ish building that Balshaw’s Florist is also located in. We’ve always assumed that the folk at Balshaw’s designed that building, as it is about as unattractive as that ridiculous van they drive around in with the giant rose in a plastic coffin on top of it. Anyway, do not be deceived by the building: once inside, Koinonia (which incidentally means “murder-inducing elevator music” in Esperanto) is a warm, inviting place, made all the more so by the immediate attention given us by the hostess and the leather booth-like couches around which the BSBers immediately splayed themselves.

As if this was not congenial enough, the mural on the wall expounded the benefits of “fellowship”, “virtue” and “loving thy neighbour” (or something like that – the BSBers ignored these sentiments completely and engaged in their usual infantile squabbling over the menu.)

This evening, the BSBers were joined by their travelling English friend, The Pikey. Being of Cockney extraction, there is little that the Pikey could not tell you about the potato chip, chicken tikka masala or soggy Pret tuna-and-sweetcorn sambos. How would she cope though with the fusion-style array of spices from the Orient? For Koinonia (formerly “Infusion” further south on Beaufort) offers the full gamut of Asia-wide generic dishes.

Starters were plentiful, prompt and very tasty. Duck pancakes were suitably moist (take heed, Red Teapot), san choy bow of the perfect consistency, satay sticks a delight. Even better, the menu stated that each of the starters came in 4 pieces, which was of a huge concern to the Pikey as there was no way we were going to share with her, but when the kind waitress saw the pain on the Pikey’s face, she quickly reassured us that they would be happy to make them 5 pieces each. And we didn’t seem to be charged for the extra either.

Mains continued in the same vein: chicken curry tantalised the taste-buds (although BOOTO suggested the meat was a little dry), the garlic lamb was a revelation, the squid and prawns an oral celebration, all washed down with a pad thai, a crash-helmet sized tub of fried rice and 14 litres of cleanskin sparkling shiraz (the BSBers’ cheap plonk of choice).

Our hostess was particularly generous, and seemed to be always at hand and directing staff to indulge our every (culinary) whim. She even gave us champagne glasses, which is a rare treat for a BYO restaurant.

In summary:

Service: Very friendly (without being intrusive), polite and ever-present. Very quick on the drinks.

Food: Very, very good pan-Asian.

Ambience: Surprisingly chic inside, with an extended balcony overlooking the Scotto.

Highlight: The expression on the Pikey’s face as her taste-buds were awakened after decades of culinary neglect.

Lowlight: The piped Muzak. (Although this may have been deliberate – very reminiscent of a Hong Kong taxi.)

Rating: 4.5 Hello Kitty’s out of 5.

Will we be back: Definitely – undoubtedly the pick of the bunch for Asian delights thus far.

Details: Koinonia is a couple of doors down from Monte Fiore. The bill came to about $50 a head for (far too many) mains, starters and corkage. Booking is advised, particularly on warm evenings.

Be aware: Koinonia is not licensed (although permits BYO beer and wine). Also, the Liquor Barons at the Beaucott corner closes at the ridiculously arbitrary time of 8:45, meaning that the Sponge had to walk 6 minutes to the Queens to collect booze. This resulted in a lot of self-indulgent whinging from the Sponge and general disharmony at the table. You have been warned.

The Flying Scotsman

With BOOTO and Stinks on a promotional tour of Victoria (leaving the Sponge trying in vain to remember what he used to do when a bachelor), it was decided to take guests for our next blog: the Pakistani Prince and the South Sea Island Princess* gratefully accepted the Bloggers’ invitation to join them for an evening of lager and pub grub at the Flying Scotsman.

(* Note: not real royalty.)

We had no expectations as to quality of the food at the Scotto – each of the Bloggers had been there from time to time for a quiet (or loud) drink, but never to eat. All recent reviews we could find appeared to be of the whiny variety, focusing on how much character and ambience the place had lost since its upgrade and how it would never be the same. (Apparently someone had neglected to pass this on to the punters though, who were there in droves.)

A table was booked (which we found to be essential if intending to eat), and was promptly and graciously reconfigured at least 3 times by the friendly staff as they tried to find the best way to seat 5 people. The Scotto is a bit like the scruffy, charismatic cousin of the Queens and (being what we understand to be the only viable drinking alternative up this end of Beaufort) was packed, while still maintaining a friendly and informal atmosphere.

Starters (ordered from the bar) arrived promptly and were unexpectedly brilliant: a platter consisting of a generous spread of such delights as octopus, ribs, chicken wings and some of the best and most tender squid any of the Bloggers (or their royal companions) had eaten for some time. This was accompanied by a dish that made the Deliberator curl into a foetal ball: pouteen. Pouteen is simply chips, melted cheese and gravy. Once combined however, they transform into a manna-like concoction that would make a grown man (in this case, the Deliberator) weep.

Mains were again impressive: the Brains’ Fat Bastard Pizza lived up to its name, parmagiana was bloody good (and enormous), the Deliberator’s ribs (washed down with a second bowl of pouteen) did the trick and the South Sea Island Princess’ salad was tasty and lovingly crafted. Unfortunately, so too was the Pakistani Prince’s. The Bloggers are collectively still stunned and slightly hurt at the Prince’s decision to order a salad at a pub, and will no longer mention his name on this blog. He is dead to us.

Service was attentive, speedy… and knowledgeable – our waitress chimed into our heated debate to confirm that the minimum contingent for a gang-bang was indeed 5 people. Debate concluded. (Incidentally, and while we had already established that 3 people formed a threesome, we are still in the dark as to the correct term for a beast with four backs. Suggestions welcome.)

In summary:

Service: Great, with an encyclopaedic knowledge of the karma sutra.

Food: A couple of cuts above what we anticipated. Sorry, Scotto.

Ambience: Lively, informal and eclectic. The Brisbane it ain’t.

Highlight: The squid. And the Deliberator’s vow to plant a pouteen tree in his backyard.

Lowlight: Maybe slightly cramped and noisy for dinner. (But hell – it’s a pub.)

Rating: 3.9 pouteen trees out of 5.

Will we be back: Yes, either to eat, drink or both. (Not just for the fact that we note that the bloody upstairs balcony is finally completed!)

Details: The Flying Scotsman is just down from the Walcott/Beaufort St intersection. The bill came to about $50 a head for mains and a shared starter (and drinks. Lots of drinks.) Kitchen closes at (we think?) 9pm, although pizzas are available later than this.

Coming up: Alright Diva – your turn next so we can finally tie up everything north of Walcott.

Monte Fiore Cafe Restauant

Monte Fiore is terrible. Really terrible. Everything about it is so bad, from the acronym, which is used liberally throughout the menu (we’ll have an MF salad and an MF side of chips please), from the terrible oily smell in the restaurant that seems to have seeped into everything, to the bland 1990s décor to the uninspiring chap who runs the front of house.

Luckily, it was a stinking hot night when the Bloggers decided to take the M-Fing challenge, so we were able to sit outside and watch people eat decent food at the Flying Scotsman. Which was quite pleasant really, especially after we smelt that weird, old oil smell that would leave you gasping for fresh air if you spent more than 10 minutes in it. Also, if we had sat in the tired, outdated surroundings we would not have been able to hide all of our bottles of wine quite so easily.

It’s a M-Fing funny place Monte Fiore. It seems to be very popular, and on the Thursday night we visited it was probably at 70% capacity, which is not bad because it’s a pretty big space. We discussed the reason for its popularity among ourselves and Booto quite correctly pointed out that it looked like a place where people who met on RSVP.com might have had a first date. It’s safe, it’s inoffensive, it’s well known and it’s bland. Perfect.

To the food. We had to try the standard tasting platter and a serve of garlic bread. The platter was bizarre, though not necessarily in a bad way. It consisted of a pizza base brushed with oil and garlic and sprinkled with herbs, and on top of the base there were your bog standard kalamata olives, grilled chorizo and fetta. The ingredients, other than the fetta, were fine. The fetta was revolting, and looked, felt and tasted more like tofu than fetta. And, annoyingly, there were 3 bits of garlic bread for a party of 4. Can’t cafés count?

Booto had a delicious Moroccan lamb salad for her main. The lamb was outstanding, well cooked with plenty of spice, and the salad was super fresh. The joy ended there though. The Brains’ Gamberi (Neapolitan pasta with prawns) was woeful. It seemed to be badly cooked packet spaghetti mixed with tomato sauce (as in ketchup, not Neapolitan sauce) with a generous number of shrivelled up cheap tasting prawns. The Sponge opted for his old favourite veal parma, and it was described as mystery meat with tomato sauce. The Deliberator’s giant pork ribs were tasteless, meatless and not at all giant. And, the bowl of ‘thick cut chips’ for the table turned out to be a bowl of frozen McCains wedges (wedges? cafés still serve wedges? what is this, 1995?) served with a minimum of flair. Overall, outstandingly disappointing.

We were left wondering what the M-Fing place could do properly. We didn’t stick around for dessert to find out.

The service was a mix. Our po-faced chap we mentioned earlier attended to us with very little charisma or affability. The lovely, bubbly blonde-haired waitress who served our meals was a dream, but once our plates were in front of us she never came back. No parmesan cheese, no cracked pepper and no ‘can I get you anything else’. We were abandoned on the side of the road with our rubbish food, empty bottles and slowly warming wine.

All in all, don’t bother with those M-Fers, head across the road to the Scotsman instead.

In summary:

Service: Variable.

Food: Heinz does a better spaghetti and it’s only a couple of bucks.

Ambience: Outside is lovely, but that was courtesy of the steamy Perth night and the action on Beaufort Street. Inside looks like a 1990s telemovie.

Highlight: The Moroccan lamb salad and the sweltering heat.

Lowlight: Food you might find in a school cafeteria.

Rating: 2 McCains wedges out of 5.

Will we be back: No. And we hope you won’t be either until these guys lift their game, update their menu, sack their chef and redecorate their restaurant.

Details: Monte Fiore is licenced and BYO wine only at $5 per bottle. The bill came to $120 for a platter, 4 mains, GB and a bowl of chips. We checked out the wine list and surprise surprise, it’s boring as hell. All wines in the same price range $19 - $26 and all the usual suspects were there – wines like Goundrey and Madfish – ok, but so dull.

Coming up: We’re really struggling to get to Diva, so we’ll try and get there next week.

Da Bruno's

Everything was going very well for the Bloggers last Wednesday. The Brains and the Deliberator successfully settled on their purchase of a new home, or rather, new mortgage, Booto was able to hand over a grumbling Stinky to Mother of Sponge for the evening, and The Sponge spent the day with a powerful thirst that needed to be quenched. So, what better time to finally circle back and make Thursday night ‘Da Bruno Night’.

While the Brains and the Deliberator drank champagne in their empty new house, the Sponge was charged with the task of buying suitable drinks for the evening. By suitable, we mean wine with labels, something that the Sponge has never been too keen on. He did a sterling job though, and showed some incredible insight when he suggested that 4 bottles might not be enough. The Brains scoffed at this suggestion, but relented and she and Booto packed a couple more bottles of wine from home in their handbags in case of emergency. The Sponge was on the money. The 5th and 6th bottles of wine were removed from the handbags within what seemed like minutes of arriving.

We arrived late, as usual, but this was absolutely no problem to the accommodating wait staff at Da Brunos. We were shown to a cosy table next set right next to a bronze, naked torso of a fit-looking fellow. The Sponge and The Deliberator were unimpressed, and disappointed that our table was not closer to the complementary female torso with the pleasing breasts.

Da Brunos has a blackboard menu only, which changes every day. Soon after arrival, our very knowledgeable waitress came to the table and explained the menu which left the Deliberator in a state of flummox and bamboozlement for the next 10 to 15 minutes. Decisions were eventually made.

We started by sharing an antipasto platter. Thrillingly, there was not a spot of chorizo on the platter (we love chorizo, but boy do we eat a lot of it). Instead, the beautifully presented plate was filled with gourmet bits of complex deliciousness like scallop salad and thinly sliced veal with a cream and caper sauce. The entrees were also a delight, al-dente home made ravioli stuffed with prawn and scallop with a saffran sauce, beautiful pieces of gnocchi in a heart-busting cheese sauce and Booto’s Carpaccio with a rocket and parmesan salad was divine.

The mains were a bit more difficult. The Deliberator’s view was that the selection was not quite as tempting as it had been on previous visits, and he has a point. On other occasions it has been almost impossible choosing one of the 5 things on offer. This time, we did struggle a little to choose something that really appealed. The Deliberator and The Sponge chose capretto, the Brains had steak, which was perfectly cooked and came with an excellent chicken parfait and Booto’s duck in marsala sauce was excellent. Each of the dishes came with mashed potato, slightly overcooked snow peas and tomato. The mains were really very good, but for the price (the duck was the cheapest dish at $44) we were not blown away. We thought the sides could have been a bit more considered, and while a lot more effort and detail was put into the mash than the mash your mother used to make, it was still mash.

For dessert, The Brains and The Deliberator both had a crème brulee which perfectly crispy on the outside and super creamy on the inside. The Deliberator, treating dessert like breakfast, asked for a side of semifreddo and his wish was granted without a problem. The Sponge’s cheese plate had a great combination of blue, brie and reggiano cheeses. Booto was less excited about her semifreddo.

After 4 courses, nearly 6 bottles of wine and a few coffees, we were suitably stuffed.

There was one niggling issue we had throughout the evening, and that was with the bathrooms. The toilets are horrifically outdated, and while clean, for a swanky restaurant with swanky prices, getting rid of the 70s tiling in the dunnies would be really appreciated (and in case you were wondering, the tiles aren’t cool in a retro way, they’re just plain ugly). But that’s not the problem, the problem was that by Booto and The Brains’ second (and final) trip to the loo, there was no loo paper left. To continually check on the status of bog roll is a very easy and a terribly important job that someone should be responsible for. If our local Thai takeaway joint can get it right, Da Bruno’s sure can too.

In summary:

Service: Excellent. Both the people looking after us were very knowledgeable, very attentive and pretty damn groovy to boot.

Food: There’s no doubt that Bruno is a bloody fine chef, but we thought the mains menu was not particularly imaginative when compared with previous visits. However, everything else was exceptional, particularly the pastas – easily the best pasta in Perth.

Ambience: We love a restaurant that exists in a house, it makes for a cosy, fun and personal atmosphere. The décor is tasteful and not at all bland - there’s plenty to look at without it being over the top. The front alfresco area is fabulous also, sitting in the Mediterranean styled courtyard on a balmy summer’s night would be unbeatable.

Highlight: The ravioli and the porn statues.

Lowlight: $110 per person. Without drinks, or even sparkling water. That’s pretty pricey in anyone’s book. And the lack of loo paper.

Rating: 3.8 milk fed baby goats out of 5.

Will we be back: Yes, for sure. It’s a great place for a special occasion. And while it was not perfect this visit, it has been much closer to perfect in previous visits.

Details: Da Brunos is easy to miss – if you’re heading north on Beaufort and you get to Charco’s, you’ve gone too far. It's at 965a Beaufort. The restaurant is unlicensed which we love. As mentioned earlier, the bill came to about $110 per head.

Coming up: We are so close to finishing off the section north of Walcott – we just need to get through Chicken Treat, Globe and Diva Café before adventuring south of Walcott. Who would have thought there were so many restaurants on Beaufort Street? We’ve been at this for 9 months and still haven’t made it to the heart of the strip.

Mt Lawley Fish and Chips

It being too late to eat out (due to the incompatability of Stinky’s sleep patterns with the Deliberator’s perpetual fannying about), the Bloggers found themselves housebound and feeling too healthy. The Sponge was complaining that his arteries felt too soft, Booto that her cholesterol was alarmingly low, the Brains that the kilos were simply dropping off her and the Deliberato .. well, he was just generally complaining about his lot in life. Some form of action was required – some call to arms to alleviate this disgusting feeling of fitness and well-being. Like Han Solo taking out Darth’s tie fighter, it was Mt Lawley Fish and Chips to the rescue.

We weren’t really sure what to expect from this establishment: Where was it? And what did they sell? And accompany it with?

All was revealed by our phone conversation with the very helpful proprietor. It’s a fish’n’chipper. In Mt Lawley. Selling the basics together with all manner of fried acountrements that one might expect from its ilk. With this in mind, we ordered the following:

4 x f’n’c (2 grilled, 2 fried)
2 chiko rolls
2 crab sticks
2 serves squid rings
1 crumbed sausage

The Deliberator, completely off his own bat and without a single complaint, offered to collect this feast (passing a flying pig on the way).

And here lies the Bloggers’ major issue: as instructed, the Deliberator arrived at the shop precisely 20 minutes after the order had been placed. And proceeded to wait there for an additional 40 minutes while the order was made ready. The problem lay not with the delay per se, but the misinformation: had we (well, the Deliberator – the rest of the bloggers were p*ssing it up at home) been accurately informed as to the preparation of our battered treasure trove, he could have whiled away the time on the couch. Instead he was made to pass that time alone in the car, phoning the rest of the bloggers every 4 minutes to remind them of the suffering he was going through and his imminent beatification.

Taking into account the fact that Mt L F’n’C does not pretend to be anything other than what it is, the food wasn’t bad. Not brilliant, but passable. Grilled fish and salad (for the ladies) was light and tasty (although they were ridiculously heavy handed with the iceberg), fish fairly well battered, squid rings did the trick and the crab sticks and chiko rolls were suitably greasy and disgusting.

In summary:

Service: Polite enough on the phone. Possibly trapped in an alternate time continuum though.

Food: Not worth driving across town for, but an OK local.

Ambience: With its chocolate walls, dazzling light feature and slick modern art, the restaurant is subtle and sophisticated, like the man himself. Crisp white linen laid tables and highly polished silverware provide an excellent canvas for the chef to reveal his artistic flair and innovativeness. The colour presents itself upon the plate of each diner, with meals being skillfully delivered by waiting staff clad in white gloves and silver grey monogrammed uniforms. The ambience of the restaurant, not unlike the warm shadows created from the slowly flickering glow of the table lamps, seeks to provide a comfortable and inviting haven for the patron to enjoy as they await the amazing creations that arrive before them. (Only joking – it’s just your standard fish’n’chipper.)

Highlight: The Sponge’s reintroduction to the chiko roll. (Tuesday night $6.90 fish and chips is not to be sniffed at either.)

Lowlight: The rest of the Bloggers having to put up with the Deliberator’s hysterical whining.

Rating: 2.9 battered savs out of 5.

Will we be back: Not unless our car breaks down out the front.

Details: Shop 7, 776 Beaufort St (next to Thai Orchid and Third Avenue). (Consume at least two additional beers before collecting order.)

NOTE: The Deliberator, having just proofed this entry, wishes to add some further comments, which are repeated verbatim below:

'Happy with the review with two exceptions:

1. not enough emphasis on the wait. Beaufort Street proprietors should be forewarned; and

2. 2.9 battered savs is an indictment to the battered Sav. Max of two battered Savs only. Beaufort Street Bloggers should not give battered Savs out willy nilly.'

Consider yourselves told.