Taka’s – Old Shanghai (Fremantle) or Shafto Lane (Perth)

Bite-Size Review: cheap, fast, and dirty – just how I like my Japanese food. 2 ½ chickpeas out of 5.

It’s a Friday night. You’ve clocked off work. You’ve got $15 on your bank card – not even enough to get cash out. It’s a desperate situation. Here’s how I’d play it:

$2 – Wrigley’s Strawberry gum, purchase at Farmer Jack’s, triumphantly request $13 cash out.
$5 – dubiously anonymous ‘South West Shiraz’ from the Subiaco Cleanskin’s Cellar next to Farmer Jack’s(conveniently close to my work!)
$1.50 – Train ticket to Freo
$5.80 – A small serve of vegie tempura, with miso, from Taka’s Japanese.
And after a perfect Friday night you’ve still got 70c left!

Hitting up Taka’s Japanese restaurant (ooh, would we call it that? Eatery? Market Stall?) at Old Shanghai food hall is a venerable tradition among many circles. So you may have to wait in line, or worse, bump into 6 people you recognise from various gigs/parties/your social networking site of preference.

But it’s popular for multiple reasons. First, it’s cheap. Second, it’s reliably delicious. And third, it’s really fucking cheap.

The portions may have decreased slightly, and you can occasionally hear the crunch of a cockroach under the boot of one of their many fast-paced chefs, but the Friday night pilgrims are as pious as ever.

From a vego’s point of view, the tempura is the best bet. Or if you’re hankering for a hearty feed, the tempura udon noodle soup comes with a filling, salty broth. The agadashi tofu is popular among many, but this picky reviewer much prefers firm tofu as used in thai cooking. Be warned, the vegetarian sushi is really just a chunk of slightly-bruised-avocado with very little going for it. Those pesky pescetarian’s have it a helluva lot easier when it comes to picking off this menu, though to be fair, that’s common to most Japanese restaurants.

Taka’s will always be my go-to for a cheap, quick, meal, despite the concerningly dirty kitchen. As they say, you can take-a da girl outta da Taka’s, but you can’t take-a da Taka’s outta da girl.

Wild Poppy is tame but tasty.

Bite-Size Review: kitsch kwality kafe. 3 chickpeas out of 5.

Beyond the cappuccino strip, on the dodgy side of south terrace (yes, we ventured past the hospital...) hides a number of lesser-known coffee-serving delights. If you’re sick of the steadily increasing prices at Gino’s, or of the ludicrously long line at Moore & Moore, I suggest you lollop/cycle/zombie shuffle yo hungover ass to this neck of freo...

Wild Poppy is one such shop of deliciousness on the corner of South Tce and Wray Avenue. The kitsch decor is delightful (though perhaps a little contrived) and the cafe spacious. Wait-staff were attentive, amicable and knew their coffee. The Wild Poppy brekkie menu is actually pretty tame, but does it display a decent number of vego options and a seriously scrumptious selection of cakes (which I’ll have to come back to try).

But the main reason I would roam repeatedly to Wild Poppy is the super-speedy-spectacularly-psychic baristas. They must be able to read your mind and start conjuring your brew ahead of your order, because I swear the coffee always arrives before I’ve even had time to remove my sunnies and let my bloodshot eyes adjust to the harsh light of a Sunday morning.

And, not only is it fast, it’s good. My long macc was only $3.50 (a dollar less than other coffee wranglers), of decent portion, not too acrid, not too milky.
My serve of scrambled eggs & turkish bread ($10) with a side of balsamic tomatoes ($4) was also served promptly. The three slices of Turkish bread were all jazzed up with a scrape of hummus, chutney, and a babaganoush. A tasty touch that would not please all, but certainly appeased my tastebuds.

The balsamic vinegar tomatoes were the highlight of the meal. Slightly caramelised, roughened up with rosemary, these were so delicious I went home and attempted my own version the next day. Shame they were almost completely ruined by the layer of ground white pepper. To me, that powdery crime tastes like dirt, and was totally off-putting.

Note: ALL cafes should use freshly cracked black pepper. That stale powdered shit is the cardinal sin of seasoning.

My boyfriend’s serve of ‘Hot Cakes’ (what the average chump would call pancakes) was plentiful, topped with mascarpone, strawberries and loads of maple syrup. As said, nothing revolutionary, but in defence of the cliché-cakes, they were light and fluffy and did the job well.

Food, service, and the kitsch-decor all fertilised an enjoyable experience. And with business going seemingly well - even expanding to the dinner-trade on Friday and Saturday nights, this place is one tall poppy I wouldn’t want to cut down.