Gingerboy: eating at $3.50 a minute

Great. Jak and I are out on a date. A nice slow meal in a hip new hawker food restaurant from Melbourne chef Teage Ezard, Gingerboy (27-29 Crossley Street Melbourne 3000 +61 3 9662 4200).
Despite my vivid imagination painting a picture of various hawker stalls in a tropical courtyard, the sort of thing you find in Ho Chi Minh City, it’s a flashily decorated room down a cute Melbourne alleyway. Fairy lights wink from behind black bamboo cladding and a giant red lamp shade hangs in the window.
I’m a sucker for Asian food. Thai, Vietnamese – whatever – it’s all great. I’m love Thai food especially. It’s hot, salty, sour all in one hefty tear jerking kick to the face. You shove some in your mouth, the Thai kick comes and you immediately go: “Okay, I know what we are talking about here.”
Whatever Gingerboy is talking about I’m not sure. When I tasted the green chicken curry (with okra and fried egg) at $29.50 there was no kick. It was more like somebody was flicking peanuts at me from the other side of the room rather than smacking me in the face with flavours. And the deep fried egg was either a little overcooked or had been sitting around for a while (I found a better one at the Old Duke in Portarlington a few days later).
There were no tears of joy or pain from the heat. And speaking of peanuts there seemed to be rather a lot in the green chicken curry. Jak and I have been arguing about it ever since, she maintaining that it was more like a satay; me telling her she had no idea what she was talking about.
The thing is that the curry didn’t quite hit the spot.
The caramelised wagyu ox cheeks (ground peanuts and chilli) at $32.50) were excellent apart from the fact that I couldn’t find the chillis. It was designed specially for my cavities, delicately falling apart on the slightest pressure from my fork.
The crispy taro dumplings (minced pork, water chestnuts) at $15 also fell apart from the slightest pressure of my fork as I tried to transport them from plate to mouth. It is a case of being a little too delicate perhaps.
The green papaya salad ($13.50), had the sour and the salt but no heat.
The starters are small and the mains are very big. I wish, for two of us, I’d been directed to have more starters and share one main. or the mains could ahve been smaller. I could always have ordered pudding if I was still hungry.

The room, I noticed that it was decorated with The Age’s restaurant critic John Lethlean. He tells me this is his third visit ( I’m told he’s been six times now) but this is purely social; he’s off to the Spiegel tent.
Perhaps because he was in the room the service was extra efficient. So efficient that we managed to order and eat within 40 minutes, a bit like an authentic ethnic Asian joint.
The bizarre thing was that it took another 15 minutes to pay our $139.50 bill.
At which point I’m about to get all mathematical. About 27 per cent of the time spent in the restaurant was paying the bill. So for the actual experience of eating we paid nearly $3.50 a minute. At that rate we’re paying $209.25 an hour or about $105 per hour or $1.75 per minute per person.
At that rate at Vue de Monde, Shannon Bennett’s 14 course gormand menu at $250 a person with $150 of matching wines is looking pretty reasonable. It takes about three hours to eat an drink and at that rate costs about $130 per hour or $2.22 per minute per person.
Vue de Monde is marginally more expensive than Gingerboy per hour but you’ll be getting truffles and caviar, anything but hawker food.

Food fascist
The first person to eat in and review Gingerboy was Tummy Rumbles. Check out the number of comments.
I believe this chap may have eaten at Gingerboy but isn’t allowed to review the restaurant. Why are chefs so childish in banning people?
Blogs again are still the place to go for first in reviews (Apart from restaurants in Crown Casino. Fair enough)