Food Run: Kitchen Inn

There’s been a lot of food posting lately, and if I’m to be frank, it’s due to two factors:

1. Lent is over. Happy fxcking Easter world.
2. I’ve been making a lot of moves, which = finding more feeds YOU should be eating.

Like right now, totally fxck reading this shxt.

Kitchen Inn.
There’s a reason to write about this place. And it has a whole lot to do with the food, but not in the sense of a foodie review or that type of farce. No, and neither am I the appropriate person to navigate this post. I will transcribe to you a line out of one Jin’s @jinnaboy – professional artist/animator and good friend – own Marmite filled mouth:

“Straight up, this is my Ratatouille moment man.”

That’s how he talks so it was something of that nature.

Reference A:

Ok so that wasn’t the right clip. But it was close. My associate in all things gastronomic also claimed that it was very close to “Home” for him. My quick take on it is that, for Asian noodles, this is the most al dente I’ve ever had them. That’s the winning dish by the way, the handmade noodles with BBQ pork, spring onion AND fried onion, and pork mince stew(?)

The tea drink is just a given.



Complimentary offal soup. Jesus Christ. Personal favourite is the meat balls in this soup. The Italian comparisons continue.


But as we realised, the key difference between a place like this in a considered ‘first world’ city, in comparison to other cities which often host cultural sectors or hubs – in both populous and cuisine – is that there’s no compromise for authenticity in favour of “watering down” the food to make it more accessible. Not to say that this is always the case in other cities (Sydney), but in other cities (Sydney) you’re more likely to be recommended to drive *out of town for the best price × authenticity/quality ratio.

Simply put, it’s not what they do right, it’s not what they do wrong, but it’s their commitment to what they do in general that makes eating here worth it.

469 Elizabeth St
Melbourne VIC 3000

Kitchen Inn on Urbanspoon

*Trust me when I say the trip to Flemington, Sydney is worth the petrol. Just remember to have some moulah stashed in your socks, they’re down on the EFTPOS tip but high on the rob-at-knife-point jig.

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