What does not kill you can be your dinner

At our first dinner in Melbourne I asked the tour guide about indigenous Australian cuisine. “When do we get to sample native food?”

“It’s not on the itinerary,” he explained.

“Why not?” So far we had dined at Chocolate Buddha, a trendy Japanese restaurant at Federation Square, and Lucky Chan’s Chinese cuisine at the Crown Casino. The following day we were going to two Italian restaurants: Tutto Bene, a risotto place, and Via Veneto on Lygon Street in Carlton, the Little Italy section. The rest of our very detailed itinerary made no mention of native cooking.

“Well,” he said, “It’s not very popular among the locals. More for tourists.”

“I’m a tourist,” I pointed out in my most annoying, smartass manner.

“All right, tomorrow while we’re having risotto, you can eat at Tjanabi.”

“Great. What’s that?”

“They serve kangaroo.”

“Wonderful.”

“And alligator and emu.”

“I can’t wait.” You can’t scare me with reptile cookery, I’ve eaten monitor lizard (bayawak) at Balaw-Balaw in Angono. It was excellent.

Never challenge a Filipino to a gross-out dine-off, we love our duck embryo right out of the shell with beak and feathers.

“Besides,” I added, “I’ve had risotto. In Rome and Venice. Served by gorgeous Italian men. With no shirts.” Okay, that last bit was improvised.

So it was agreed that the next day, while the Philippine media group savored El Presidente risotto, “a blend of two-year-old parmesan and balsamic vinegar made from a 1912 must and swirled into the best Arborio,” I would chow down on wild animals. I pictured myself ripping into kangaroo jerky and was glad I’d be eating alone.

It was just one disappointment after another. First, the venue. I’d hoped for a rickety shack in the middle of nowhere, coated in dust and abuzz with flies; something out of Crocodile Dundee or Mad Max.

Instead I found myself in a sleek modern restaurant in the glass atrium of a shopping complex. Tjanabi looks like the type of stylish, sort-of-minimalist restaurant where upwardly-mobile types congregate after a day of making money. The tables were of a heavy dark wood which I learned was 500-year-old Jarrah tree.

I settled into my chair, declined the wine list, ordered a Coke and perused the menu. For starters, I could have house-made duck liver, brandy, and pepper leaf paté... tempting, but no. Crocodile Escabeche... that’s more like it. I chose a taster plate with crocodile, kalamata olives, kangaroo and wallaby.

For the main course, I could have Eye fillet or Porterhouse — tender, grass-fed beef free of artificial hormones, raised according to strict environmental standards by small Gippsland farmers. I regretfully declined. The very knowledgeable waiter recommended the Emu fillet steak. The emu is a very large bird, like a shaggy ostrich; it can’t fly, but it can run very fast. There have been reports — unsubstantiated — of emus chasing motor vehicles in the outback and crashing into them. They’re scary. There’s only one way to deal with badass birds: Eat them. (By the way my hairstylist friend recommends emu oil to treat dry, flaky scalp.)

Let me assure readers that none of the animals I ate are endangered species; they are farmed in Australia and meet sustaina-bility standards.

Imagine my chagrin when my wild animal sampler plate arrived and it looked like... tapas. If I hadn’t known that the chorizo was made of kangaroo and that the salad contained wallaby (a cute hopping animal), I could’ve been noshing on hors d’oeuvres at a cocktail party. Would my despair never cease?

“I’m so disappointed,” I told the waiter, and he laughed. Apparently mine is a common reaction. “We have guests come in and tell us, Do your worst.”

The tasting plate was garnished with a sprig of peppergum, a type of eucalyptus that has a delayed effect. You bite into the leaf, and five

seconds later the chili hits you. It livened up the kalamata olives.

Wallaby has the consistency of beef — I found it bland because Manila taste buds are conditioned for maximum flavor. I like my chorizo oily and fatty; the kangaroo chorizo was on the dry side, but then “roo” meat is no-fat and low-cholesterol. Yes, kangaroo is a healthy, guilt-free meat. “Kangaroo is often overcooked, which makes it tough,” the waiter explained. “Here we always serve it rare or medium rare, never past that.

“Crocodile meat is too tough and gamey,” he went on, “so we use the more tender part, the tail.” It’s still a bit tough, but it does taste like chicken. I must say that even if croc looks perfectly non-threatening on the plate, it’s thrilling to know that several days ago, the food you’re having for lunch could’ve had you for lunch.

The emu steak, medium rare, arrived on a plate with roasted kumara — a sweet potato — and clove-like herbs called lilly pillies. Since emu has no fat, the fillet is cooked wrapped in a layer of prosciutto. It was delicious, more so when you imagine a giant emu chasing your car in the outback.

So I came for the gross-out factor and ended up with a good lunch. I consoled myself with the thought that I still had a funny story to tell my friends. Eating animals that can kill you is beneficial to your health.

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Philippine Airlines flies five times weekly between Manila and Melbourne. It offers “Swingaround” holiday packages to Melbourne which include air fare, hotel accommodations, transfers, and tours. For promos and bookings, visit www.philippineairlines.com or call 855-8888.