Let’s be clear: arts festivals are great. Getting to cover a festival in front and behind the scenes is, in my books, even better. However, whether you are a punter or a journalist, a full day of festivalling can be exhausting.
There is infinitely more to see than there are hours in the day, yet the buzz and quality of entertainment on offer seems to induce a kind of temporary festive insanity. The more drained you become, the more determined you are to plough on, which is why sustenance is key.
During my six days spent at this year’s Melbourne International Comedy festival, I kept track of the cafes, restaurants and bars that fuelled my venue-hopping from morning until, well, morning.
Bearing in mind that hefty ticket prices mean food budgets usually suffer, I did not indulge but kept things modest. I was simply keen to sample an eclectic range of Melbourne’s legendary food and drink scene.
Here’s my pick of the pitstops I made, along with a couple of duds.
Coffee
My usual of habit of one strong coffee per day went out the window almost immediately, which is good because Melbourne clearly isn’t lacking in cafes. And given the quality of roasts and baristas, my increased need for caffeine didn’t actually result in being over-caffeinated.
I’ve only been in Australia since December, so I’m still learning to trust that a good single-shot long black delivers a kind of mellow buzz that’s hard to find in London. But Melbourne coffee quickly fired me into an enjoyable, non-jittery state and kept me there.
My go-to place was the newer branch of Bowery to Williamsburg on Hardware Street. I could have sipped their coffee all day, though eyeing up the cramped, communal table area, I was always glad to be getting takeaway.
Had I been staying nearby, Dukes on Flinders Lane would have been top pick. I’ve found some coffee too perfumed over here (sorry, Single Origin) but Dukes seemed to nail that sweet spot between aromatic and full-bodied. Definitely worth the occasional queue.
Food
When I say I wasn’t indulgent, I was mostly referring to solids. Staying at the Melbourne University end of Elizabeth Street meant I fell into a habit of grabbing a piping hot beef or chicken gözleme from the Borek Bakehouse around mid-afternoon, having forgotten to eat breakfast or lunch. They were so hot because I always arrived just as the bakery was closing, so the staff would roll their eyes and make me a fresh one.
I would not recommend this method of eating a gözleme, but cooled down a bit, they were totally delicious, not too greasy and endlessly affordable. The fact you can watch them being made through the window was definitely part of the attraction.
On my final day in Melbourne I finally had time to try one of the city’s cooler eating “destinations”. Having devoured a box of moreish prawn dumplings from the Shanghai Dumpling House two nights earlier, while jogging along Flinders Street to a standup show, I was already on board with the city’s dumpling joints.
Supernormal, however, left me longing for Shanghai’s grubby floor, strip lights and mismatched morsels in a plastic box. My more expensive pork dumplings were knitted together with a greasy egg glaze that was hard to make sense of let alone manhandle with chopsticks. I also ordered a side of brown rice and I’m not sure I can honestly claim to have found flavour in it. The free roasted pumpkin seeds were ace, as was the service and atmosphere, so maybe I just made an unlucky order.
Along with Shanghai Dumpling on Tattersalls Lane, my best meal was at another cheap and cheerful place that I believe is a favourite with ravenous comedians.
Flora Indian restaurant, opposite Flinders Station, has a somewhat baffling ordering system but I didn’t mind not getting what I thought I’d ordered because it was still a mountain of authentic, rich marsala goodness.
I say authentic because the flavours, segmented metal dish and enough roti to use as cutlery reminded me of being in India, not because I’m actually knowledgable.
I think the key here is to order large. I was even able to swing some free chutney because a) I was so tired I genuinely messed up my order and b) the server could tell it was my “first time”.
Alcohol
I was surprised to feel a little underwhelmed by the bars in Melbourne, at least in the CBD. Perhaps a comedy festival isn’t the best time to bar-hop, as evenings are generally when punters are seeing shows. Also it was quiet because of Easter weekend, which people kept reminding me as though someone had just died.
Campari House was as fine a place as any to start an evening, especially to someone still finding rooftop bars an incredible novelty. However I was a bit disappointed at the lack of overt Campari celebration/peddling. Maybe I missed the point, but it is called Campari House and that is why I was excited to be there.
Section 8 made me feel like an old man, frustrated at being unable to continue the conversations we’d started at the previous bar because the mediocre DJ was too loud. I tried to order a local craft beer that wasn’t too hoppy and was offered Brooklyn Brewery lager, which I think made both the bar person and I feel awkward.
I’m reluctant to admit quite how often I found myself settling for the festival club at Hi-Fi, where there was always a good late-night show but also a baffling preponderance of canned Victoria Bitter (VB) drinking. Yuck.
So instead, I’ll finish in Fitzroy where Bar Open and G&Tea helped me realise the downside of the festival is that I was mainly confined to the CBD. G&Tea especially was a wonderful find, with $7 happy-hour drinks and informed yet not-too-attentive service.
The Melbourne International Comedy festival is on until 19 April.
