Ela Ada

May 23, 2026

 

   

 

When we agreed to the potluck theme of 'dumplings of the world' with friends, we were sharing pics and thinking up dishes for weeks in advance. As usual I wanted to make something sweet, and this time something especially cosy for winter. The dilemma was that for me this objective brings up puffy, cakey, flour-based recipes like custard-filled bao and European doughs stuffed with berries... yet I was mindful that there'd be at least one gluten-free guest. 

 

Mochi can be gluten-free, but I don't think of it as a winter warmer, and I could see myself getting stressed out while making it. The better alternative was the completely new-to-me ela ada. Originating around Kerala, it's also a rice-based dough, stuffed with something sweet (often jaggery-sweetened coconut) and steamed in a banana leaf. 

 

   

 

I bought frozen coconut from an Indian grocer (and probably could have just used dessicated, in the absence of fresh). The minimum quantity of jaggery available was upwards of a kilo, so I decided to make do with the palm sugar blocks I had at home. I found frozen banana leaves at Lunar Mart and spent quite some time washing them carefully.

 

Preparation took care but progressed nicely: kneading a smooth rice flour dough, frying together the coconut and sugar with a little cardamom. Then the most challenging part! Applying a little coconut oil to a banana leaf rectangle, rolling and pressing flat a circle of dough using wet hands, spooning in some filling and then firmly pressing the banana leaf in half to seal up the semi-circular dumpling. I arranged all the parcels in my steamer and hoped for the best, giving them a second steam to reheat once we were ready for dessert on the night.  

 

   

My ela ada weren't beauties but they were successful - a little chewy, with caramel sweetness, and plenty of warmth. They didn't always tear easily away from their banana leaf wrapping. I'm so glad I got to know them and could share them with friends.

 

 

 

Ela Ada 

(slightly adapted from a recipe on The Tastes of India) 

 

filling

1 teaspoon ghee, coconut oil or margarine

2/3 cup grated jaggery (I used palm sugar)

1 cup grated coconut

1/4 teaspoon cardamom

 

dough

1 cup fine rice flour  

1 cup water

1 teaspoon ghee, coconut oil or margarine

1/2 teaspoon salt

 

banana leaves, washed 

extra ghee, coconut oil or margarine 

 

 

For the dough, lightly roast the rice flour in a frypan, and transfer it to a heat-proof mixing bowl. Boil the water, stir in the ghee/oil/margarine, and pour the liquid over the rice flour. Stir it together to form a dough. When the dough is cool enough to handle, knead it until it's as smooth as possible. Set the dough aside.

 

For the filling, melt the ghee/oil/margarine in a frypan and stir through the coconut. Add the jaggery and stir until it melts. Sprinkle over the cardamom, and turn off the heat. 

 

If the banana leaves are brittle, hold them over an open flame until they become pliable. Cut the leaves into medium-sized squares and lightly grease them with ghee/coconut oil/margarine.

 

Pick up 1/4 cup of the dough and flatten it out into a circle on a banana leaf, using wet hands. Place a generous spoonful of coconut mixture in a semi-circle on the dough circle, leaving a outside border of 1 cm without filling. Use the banana leaf to fold the dough into a semi-circle and seal the edges together and encase the coconut filling. Repeat with the remaining banana leaves, dough and filling.

 

Steam the parcels for 10-12 minutes. Peel off the banana leaf and serve warm. 

20 years of...

   

 

Today marks 20 years since we published the first post on where's the beef?. The format has aged, we have aged, our posting frequency has slowed and our readership has declined, AND YET - in this obscurity we still find food blogging meaningful and useful, and occasionally we continue to get messages that some of you do too.

 

where's the beef? is a document of the 20 years we've lived in Melbourne, the people we've spent time with, the things we've done, the ways we've changed. Early on we lived very close to our workplaces: we were often home with groceries by 6pm with energy to cook something new; on the weekends we'd get on the train or tram and visit a new-to-us suburb to eat new-to-us food. Twenty years later our habits have narrowed a bit: I tend to seek out simpler new recipes and happily refer to old favourites that we've saved up here; there barely seem enough chances to support the restaurants I already know and love, and we're completely out of the loop on what's hot in the city. (Meanwhile Michael visits Iris the Bakery several times a week and has never written a post about them!) In between, we've made some of the firmest friends of our adult lives through blogging and we're having many of them over for a vegan potluck tomorrow.

 

In the past few years, my computer-based workload and bouts of vestibular migraine have put me off opening the laptop in the evenings, and one day they might do this blog in entirely (if Google doesn't do Blogger in first). For now where's the beef? is still here, celebrating vegetarian food at its own pace. 

Manzé

May 21, 2026

 

   

 

This year we celebrated Michael's birthday early, with dinner at Manzé. This Mauritian restaurant is best known for its seafood, but it's actually got a seasonal vegan set menu ($105 per person) on offer too. (Another bonus - they have a bar called Boire across the street, where we met up first and I had a stunning plum daiquiri.) Contrary to the end-of-evening photo above, Manzé was crowded with furniture, people and music, with most dining couples seated at a central communal table.

   

 

The first wave of our set menu was served across three plates: vegetable fritters were served with hot sauce, cabbage was pickled vindaye-style (a technique usually applied to fish), and pickled fruits were teamed with a blob of salted feijoa chutney - the bright and hot pickley flavours lifted any heaviness from the fried batter.

 

   

 

The second wave was my favourite. It centred around cari gros pois, a rich and savoury butter bean curry encircled with sorrel chutney and topped with fioretto (cauli blossom). There was a gorgeous, soft dal puri (lentil flatbread) to scoop it up, interspersed with side dishes of bredes songes (sour winter greens and ginger) and achard piment (green apple and chilli pickle).

 

   

 

The staff accidentally had us waiting a while for our main, having mistakenly served it to another couple at the table. We weren't fazed, and Michael was comped a lovely dessert wine later by way of apology. We worked through the meaty, well-marinated oyster mushrooms slowly, and I especially enjoyed the accompanying roasted persimmon chutney. Rice and a modest green salad rounded this out to a full meal of its own.

 

   

 

The vegan set menu had us anticipating salted coconut sorbet and plum but, since we self-reported as vegetarians, I think they lined us up with the standard dessert. This was more of a panna cotta - though it's not my favourite kind of dessert this one was special, and beautifully set off with the scaled arrangement of plum slices on top.

 

We were unsure whether a seafood-free meal at Manzé would measure up but it really did! This menu was unlike anything we've been served before, and it's designed to cycle with the seasons, so Manzé will be well worth a revisit.

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Manzé has also received a positive review from Kulture Kween. 

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Manzé
Shop 2/1/5 Errol St, North Melbourne 

0401 749 051 

vegan set menu for Waring/Wombat season  

https://www.manze.com.au/

 

Accessibility: Manzé has a step up on entry. The interior is crowded and loud, mostly densely packed regular height tables and backed chairs, plus one high table with backless stools. We ordered and paid at our table. We didn't visit the toilets.

Sleepys II

May 15, 2026 

 

   

 

After first visiting Sleepys for brunch, we returned for Michael's (unblogged, weeknight, pre-netball) birthday dinner a month later. It took nearly a year for us to return for dinner again, ready to spontaneously treat ourselves on a Friday night. Naturally the menu changed a little in the meantime, though the theme is consistent - contemporary Chinese flavours in a wine bar setting, consistently staffed with the most friendly folk.

 

   

 

We were both in the mood for a cocktail, ordering an old-fashioned and a negroni between us ($22). 

 

   

 

We ordered most of the vegetarian options, with the help of our waiter. The teeny little spring rolls ($8) were piping hot and glistened with house-made sweet chilli sauce. Fried chive dumplings ($14) were hardier, with the chives filling the centre, and their chilli vinegar served more typically on the side.

 

   

 

The liang fen ($14) were very special, translucent handmade mung bean jelly noodles, naturally slippery, lightly dressed in soy, with roasted sesame seeds and Sichuan pepper.

 

   

 

The Hokkien noodles ($22) were less delicate and very satisfying, very salty, singing with soy and ginger and scattered with big chunks of spring onion. 

 

   

 

XO tofu ($30) was teamed with shiitakes on a gorgeous vintage fish plate and piled with sliced youtiao (savoury doughnut), which I loved dredging through the sauce. Some steamed rice ($5) seemed prudent.

 

   

The one dessert on offer was a star anise parfait ($15) served with plums, and it was a singular pleasure.

This was a special meal for no special occasion at all, a perhaps that made us feel all the more grateful for it. 

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 You can read about our first visit to Sleepys here.

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Sleepys 

787 Nicholson St, Carlton North 

food, drinks 

https://www.sleepyscafeandwinebar.com.au/ 

 

Accessibility: Sleepys has a step up on entry and clear pathway through the middle. Inside there are densely arranged regular and high tables with backed chairs; the backless benches outside look a little unstable. We ordered at our table and paid at a high counter. We didn't visit the toilets but it looks like there's a tight turn on the way out. (When this spot previously housed A Fan's Notes, we described the toilet as "a single, unisex toilet cubicle, which is a step up off an uneven path".)

Cherry almond bars

May 9, 2026 

 

   

 

I've broken the habit and pulled out The Big Book of Beautiful Biscuits for the second time in a year (after several years of choosing it only in my summer holiday). I don't recall ever eating these cherry almond bars before (dried fruit and nuts were divisive in my family of origin) but glace cherries feel nostalgic for me, nevertheless.

 

This recipe is a mash-up of things I love - cherries, chocolate, almonds, shortbread. I omitted the lemon rind, because I made these rapidly on a whim, but I'd welcome that element too. The biscuits are formed by slicing pieces from a dense, buttery log of dough. I clearly didn't get the dimensions as intended because I made 15 biscuit slices, and the recipe estimated a batch to be 35. Yet my chunky biscuits still overcooked during the recommended baking time! They weren't burnt but they were much more golden, occasionally even brown, compared to a conventional shortbread. Fewer biscuits also meant less chocolate needed, and I've adjusted the quantity down to match my batch.

These biscuits were delicious, but less than the sum of their parts. The toastiness of the biscuits crowded out the almonds, mouthfuls of the chocolate half tasted of little else, and the cherries were rare, separate experiences. Every bite was a pleasure tinged with a search for something else. 

   

 

Cherry almond bars

(slightly adapted from The Australian Women's Weekly The Big Book of Beautiful Biscuits, also published online here) 

 

90g butter, at room temperature 

1 teaspoon grated lemon rind 

1/3 cup caster sugar

1 egg yolk

1 cup plain flour

1/3 cup blanched almonds

1/3 cup glace cherries

125g dark chocolate

2 teaspoons vegetable oil 

 

In a bowl, use an electric mixer to beat together the butter, lemon rind, sugar and egg yolk. Sift in the flour, partially mix, add the almonds and cherries, and mix to fully combine.

 

Unroll a large sheet of plastic wrap and transfer the biscuit mixture onto it. Manoeuvre the plastic wrap to compact the mixture into a big log, with a cross-section of about 4 cm x 5 cm. Refrigerate the biscuit log until firm, at least an hour.

 

When the dough is ready, preheat an oven to 180°C and line 1-2 baking trays with paper. Use a sharp knife to slice the log into 5-8 mm thick slices and lay them out on the baking trays. Bake for 10-15 minutes, until just beginning to go golden around the edges.

 

Melt the chocolate using your preferred method and stir in the vegetable oil. Dip half of each biscuit in the chocolate and return them to the trays; refrigerate briefly to set. Store at room temperature.