Italian summer in Coorparoo, my #1 raw fish dish and a Turkish-ish Brisbane institution
This week on Table for One, food writer Becca Wang unintentionally reviews three different shellfish dishes at three different restaurants.
Ramona Trattoria
If I had to prescribe a quote to Brisbane’s Italian food scene, it would be, “Put the stick down, the horse is dead” from Lorelai Gilmore, titular protagonist of television show Gilmore Girls (2000). Like Lorelai, I eat out a lot. Unlike Lorelai, I don’t live in a walkable town with restaurants with endearing names like Luke’s or Al’s Pancake World. But — once in a blue moon, I find a *good* restaurant in the suburbs and that is practically the same thing.
Let’s circle back to the dead horse quote. Brisbane has dareIsayit TOO much Italian food. There’s casual Italian, fine dining Italian, classic Italian, Italian wine bars, Italian sandwich shops, Italian bakeries, Italian gelato shops, Italian sex shops!!! (Just kidding, but what if?)
Then riddle me this. Why is Ramona Trattoria in Coorparoo the only decent suburban Italian restaurant on the south side? It baffles me. If you love something, open more of it closer to where everyone lives.
It was almost disorienting to eat properly cooked wagyu skewers with salsa verde and a stuffed zucchini flower in blissful suburbia. More disorienting was the fact that actual families with children (gasp) were out on a school night — that’s when you know not only is the food Italian, the culture is seeping through as well.
Pasta over pizza always. Though, you’d be safe ordering either at Ramona. They have a full fledged pizza oven (not just a Gozney) and classic options I respect — mushroom and truffle, prawn and nduja, mortadella and stracciatella. None of that reef and beef BS. (I unironically love that pizza though, don’t @ me.) The fregola with seafood (a true goutfest: mussels, prawn, clams, octopus and salmon roe) was held together by a flavourful bisque. Fregola (pearl) is such an underrated pasta shape — I love the way it gets into all the nooks and crannies of the shells.
Perhaps the hottest take of them all: my least favourite Roman pasta is carbonara. The first 2-3 bites of it are heaven on a stick but then you start to feel a little ill. Ramona’s version may become richer even quicker because of the cold pecorino (?) cream that’s pooled over the top of the sauced pasta itself. Best to split with friends.
Notably fantastic wine and cocktail list. Their house spritz — Hugo adjacent — is made with Italicus, a bergamot liqueur that turns everything it touches to gold. Excellent taste.
131 Leicester St, Coorparoo
Doodee Boran
As a rule of thumb, the closer you get to the centre of Brisbane, the better the food is. And at the absolute epicenter is Doodee Boran, the quintessential Thai street food spot. What makes a great Thai restaurant, you might ask? Some symptoms include:
Karaoke or a live band
Several noodle options for noodle soups
A lack of green curry on the menu
Predominantly all-Thai staff
Predominantly Asian customers.
Is it masterful, Sorn-level type of cooking? Maybe not. But is it straightforward, delicious and consistently busy? Yes and more.
I genuinely have no idea how this place gets the food out in less than five minutes every single time, despite how busy they are (very busy, all the time). This is even better for me, personally, because I will be ordering a serve of the spicy raw salmon before my ass even hits the seat, which means the salmon in my side mirror is actually as close as it appears. If there are 0 fans of the spicy raw salmon, it means that I am dead. (It’s that good I wrote 400 words about it for Broadsheet.) TLDR: punchy, zingy, fresh, and that prik nam pla!!! It ends up being a dip for everything else on the table. Fair warning, if you can’t handle spice (like my poor partner who ate a piece and couldn’t stop sweating for the rest of the meal), let the staff know, the spice level is adjustable. You can also get a raw prawn version of this dish, also 10/10.
Clams are the bee’s knees. Some might say: yuck, snot rock. I say: delicious things come in small packages (and often inside shells). The Doodee clams (a mountain’s worth, and for $30!) are wok-fried in a sweet Thai chilli paste and basil. I put a little rice in the shell on top of the clam with an extra lick of sauce and that there is a perfect bite.
Call me basic but the soft shell crab is compulsory. These huge portions of golden, crispy, crab is so indulgent and truly perfect paired with their house lemon iced tea or a beer. These drinks will come out approximately 10 seconds after you’ve ordered them and not a second later. It’s amusing how well-oiled this machine is.
Other notable mentions:
The gai lan. Generous portion considering greens cost an arm and a leg — this one doesn’t and they nail the sauce every time.
Tom yum noodles with pork. Bit hot for summer eating at the moment but when winter rolls around, the fresh, springy noodle, crispy pork belly and broth combo is wondrous.
Grilled pork intestine. This is quite adventurous for many people but it’s really such a treat — crispy, salty, nicely chewy. Just don’t think about it too much.
Crispy chicken skin. This and a Sex on The Beach? Absolutely sorted.
Ground Floor, Shop A/46 Charlotte St, Brisbane City
Caravanserai
Turkish food is hard to come by in Brisbane. My only memories of it are dinners at Ahmet’s in Southbank for a special occasion or at the old Gerard’s Bistro (barely Turkish), sipping a cocktail called the Delightful Turk (which is indeed delightful and still on their menu since the late 2010s). But I’d driven past Caravanserai at least a hundred times and not until last week did I actually step inside.
These veteran restaurants (see: Himalayan Cafe, Greek Taverna, Billy’s Pine and Bamboo, etc.) are all time capsule-y. They feel like the mid-2010s, before a time of QR codes and Square POS machines and pet nat by the glass. An old-er restaurant is comforting in its kitschy tablecloths, wide-rimmed dishes and woven bread baskets. Nostalgia is powerful.
Mussels in a tomato wine sauce. (Boo, stop ordering bivalves! Someone in the back yells.) Small, succulent mussels — not the large, dry variety — are perfect for this acidic sauce. It had a thick-soup-like consistency perfect for mopping up with fluffy fried bread.
Mezze is the ultimate girl dinner. Caravanserai’s Ottoman’s mezze isn’t exactly the most accurate Turkish mezze — baked polenta, quinoa, chorizo and mojo verde are very questionably “Turkish” (I think they’ve gotten a little confused with Spain…).
Nonetheless, a fun and balanced spread! The herby yogurt and mojo verde cut through the richness of the meats and cheeses. I would’ve loved a few more spears of asparagus — one asparagus per person is a sad picture. But for $18.50 each, this is peak budget dining out.
1 Dornoch Terrace, West End
Becca Wang is a freelance writer and food and drink columnist. She has by-lines in Broadsheet, Boothby, Gourmet Traveller, RUSSH and others. She is also the founding editor of Hawker Magazine, a food and culture publication. You can keep up with her at @supper.partying.