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GLUTTON: CAFE ARMENIA
Sunday Magazine (Perth, Australia)
April 1, 2007 Sunday
CAFE ARMENIA 179 Booran Rd, Caulfield Sth. Call (03) 9578 8151
The first time I set foot in Cafe Armenia, two questions sprang to
mind. First: where is Armenia? The second, thanks to the sink and
stacks of plates next to our table, was: do we have to do our own
washing up?
I've since learnt Armenia is wedged between Turkey, Azerbaijan, Iran
and Georgia. Cafe Armenia, meanwhile, has moved around the corner to
slightly more salubrious premises. Gone are the sink, mozzie zapper
and fluorescent lights. Now there are orange pendant lights, plastic
tablecloths and a photo of Mount Ararat covering almost an entire
wall. Thankfully, the hearty peasant food remains unchanged. We're
still greeted with a complimentary nostril-clearing dip of garlic,
tomato and capsicum, served with a mountain of flat bread. And a
plate of four fat, vine-leaf dolmas stuffed with beef and pork mince
($7) is still a wonderfully satisfying starter. The soups - the
stew-like chanakhi, with chunks of beef and potatoes, and the piti,
with lamb, chickpeas and potatoes - are rib-stickingly good and,
at $17 for an enormous bowlful, each could easily make a meal on
its own. But that would mean forgoing chef-manager Serzhe Sargsyan's
specialty: marinated, barbecued meats served on menacing 45cm steel
swords. Sargsyan personally delivers our pork on the bone (two massive,
juicy chops for $16.50) and four perfectly seared baby loin lamb
chops (also $16.50) on a platter with a battalion of ridiculously
good roast potatoes. After all that, I reckon I could face a long
Armenian winter. And, no, we don't have to do the washing up.
Sunday Magazine (Perth, Australia)
April 1, 2007 Sunday
CAFE ARMENIA 179 Booran Rd, Caulfield Sth. Call (03) 9578 8151
The first time I set foot in Cafe Armenia, two questions sprang to
mind. First: where is Armenia? The second, thanks to the sink and
stacks of plates next to our table, was: do we have to do our own
washing up?
I've since learnt Armenia is wedged between Turkey, Azerbaijan, Iran
and Georgia. Cafe Armenia, meanwhile, has moved around the corner to
slightly more salubrious premises. Gone are the sink, mozzie zapper
and fluorescent lights. Now there are orange pendant lights, plastic
tablecloths and a photo of Mount Ararat covering almost an entire
wall. Thankfully, the hearty peasant food remains unchanged. We're
still greeted with a complimentary nostril-clearing dip of garlic,
tomato and capsicum, served with a mountain of flat bread. And a
plate of four fat, vine-leaf dolmas stuffed with beef and pork mince
($7) is still a wonderfully satisfying starter. The soups - the
stew-like chanakhi, with chunks of beef and potatoes, and the piti,
with lamb, chickpeas and potatoes - are rib-stickingly good and,
at $17 for an enormous bowlful, each could easily make a meal on
its own. But that would mean forgoing chef-manager Serzhe Sargsyan's
specialty: marinated, barbecued meats served on menacing 45cm steel
swords. Sargsyan personally delivers our pork on the bone (two massive,
juicy chops for $16.50) and four perfectly seared baby loin lamb
chops (also $16.50) on a platter with a battalion of ridiculously
good roast potatoes. After all that, I reckon I could face a long
Armenian winter. And, no, we don't have to do the washing up.