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Category Archives: NOMS

For someone who really isn’t up to much, I feel incredibly busy these days.


Tastevin, French, Darlinghurst – Food was disappointingly average, but the service was wonderful, and it’s location – tucked upstairs and looking over busy Victoria Street – was really charming.

Feast at McVitty Vineyard, modern Australian, Mittagong – We went here for Father’s Day lunch with Nick’s family and it was all around fantastic – good company, beautiful views, outdoor seating on a sunny deck, delicious wine and gorgeous food. Can’t say enough good things about it.


Necklace, Kitson

colour block dress, Motel



Somewhat resentful happiness:

iphone 4

Chilling with midgets:


Dan Stiles, Arctic Monkeys

Dan Stiles, Scissor Sisters

Dan Stiles, Ray LaMontagne

My brother Colin had show posters up from Dan Stiles in his house, and Nick and I both liked the look of them, so we ended up ordering some and getting them shipped to Sydney. Just had them matted/framed/hung this week, really pleased with them.


Oliver Twist, Charles Dickens

What? I said busy, not exciting.


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Let’s explore why I came back from the states 6 pounds heavier, shall we?

Exhibit 1: Pizza and beer. And beer.  Aaaaand beer again.

FYI – Did you know Pizzamakers actually delivers pizza? And all these years I thought it was only weed. Huh.

Exhibit 2: Chef Wayne’s Big Mamou Cajun Restaurant

Just so you know, I have no regrets about this one. Big Mamou is an institution, and should you ever find yourself in the cultural wonderland that is Springfield, Massachusetts… this is THE ONLY PLACE YOU NEED TO GO.

And also, they have a website! Go, on, click on it – see how adorable it is, and see how cheap the prices are. And then see what comes out of their kitchen…


pulled pork

Exhibit 3: The Italian Markets in Philly

pasta fridge

So, do you see? As if you wouldn’t do the same .


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A few months back, Karen, Fuller and I went to a leisurely Sunday afternoon lunch at Garfish in Manly, and we liked it so much that we decided to go back Saturday night and bring my parents too.

Who needs the real life view when it's showing on the plasma overhead?

The verdict? Better as a lunch place. The seafood is beautiful and fresh, but the view and the breeze are just more enjoyable on a sunny afternoon.

Highlights: my Hendricks Pink cocktail (Hendricks gin, maraschino liqueur, apple juice and fresh cucumber… amazing), our highly efficient server – from Florida, no less.

Qualms: The plasma TVs that have a live feed of the horizon on the water. You can get the same view if you look past them… to the OCEAN. Bizarre.

Parking in Manly makes me want to burn down a council building.


Nothing like eating prawns at $12 apiece and then paying $55 FOR PARKING.


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On Friday, the boys went to the Rugby League match while Karen, Fuller, mom and I opted to go out to dinner. We went to Buon Ricardo in Paddington, where Karen had been before but the rest of us hadn’t.

I was totally surprised by how it looked inside – faux orange brick tiles on the floor and heinous floral printed chairs. This dinky little bar plopped in the middle, looking like the kind you’d find in your grandparents basement. The white jacketed waiters standing throughout the dining room looked like they had gotten lost on their way to their real job.

If there was a living room at Buon Ricardo

But it was CHARMING. In a city where bars are renovated every six months and the service and atmosphere often pale in comparison to a restaurant/bar’s design – this was a refreshing change. The service was elegant without being stuffy, the sommelier made wine suggestions that were helpful and reasonable, and the food itself was beautiful and simple.

Karen and Fuller asked the waiter to let the chef choose their entrées, and were rewarded with off menu creations that were delicious. The chef came out several times to lavish some special attention on my mom, and make a fuss over Karen who is about eight months pregnant. It was all really lovely.

Highlights were the duck consommé and the Fuller’s specially made entrée of cantelloni. Overall, wonderful.


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Last night was date night… with my OTHER boyfriend.

Alex and I have lived together since August. In seven months, we’ve eaten dinner at home together twice.

When we moved in we had grand plans about waking up and strolling into Newtown Centre for breakfast and then heading off to the beach. Having barbeques in the backyard. Having nights in on the couch with a bottle of red.

Silly us. With Alex’s travel schedule and my I-have-no-idea-what-I-do-with-my-time, we rarely see each other outside the office.

And so, we had to book a date night.

We have this game at the office called “Three Choices.” As in, “Where do you want to go for lunch? I give you three choices…” (What? What do YOU do at your work?) So we based our dinner date on three choices, all in Surry Hills. Longrain for Thai, Il Bareto for Italian, or El Bulli for Spanish.

This was the third or fourth time I’ve been to El Bulli, and I’ve never had a bad experience there. The atmosphere is lively, the lighting is low, the food is delicious. Alex and I had various cocktails and sangria while picking at olives,  garlic and chili prawns, Serrano ham and blue vein cheese mini gnocchi and what I can only describe as chorizo and paella arrancini balls. So, so good.

Afterwards we to Shady Pines Saloon, as I’ve been on a mission to check it out since I read a Bar Zine review touting it as an American style bar, serious about their cocktails.

Last time I dragged a whole group of people there on a Thursday night. It’s down a little back alley in Darlinghurst, no signage whatsoever. The only way I knew I found the place is when I saw a nondescript door with a piece of paper stuck onto it, scrawled with “Gone Drinking.” And thus, my obsession began. I was determined to go back.

So Alex and I stopped in, and for a quiet night in Sydney it was totally packed. As promised, it was like stepping into a bizarre time warp. Lots and lots of taxidermy, extravagant mustaches on the bartenders, people on bar stools bellied up to the bar (a novelty in Sydney, something I sorely miss from home).

I was into the music: Johnny Cash, Muddy Waters, CCR and Rolling Stones all played in the span of a drink. But the best part was the crowd’s attire. There were  men in actual cowboy hats, and women in calf length skirts. Calf length skirts! Where do you even BUY those?

We couldn’t figure it out. Did these people buy these clothes just for this specific night out? Or more mind-boggling… is there a thriving  Old West  subculture in Sydney that has suddenly FOUND THEIR HOME? It was all very confusing, but enjoyable. Calf length skirts, my God.


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Nick and I took the ferry up to Manly yesterday, and ate a new-ish restaurant, called Whitewater.

It was all a bit fancy for Sunday lunch, but we decided to spoil ourselves, seeing as how we’ve both been putting in crazy hours at work over the last week. I haven’t worked that much since Interskate91 was child-labouring the shit out of me.

(Side note: Dear God, looking at that website is like time traveling. Nothing’s changed since 1998. Even the clip art images are the same ones they used to plaster all over their backroom signage: “If you have time to LEAN, you have time to CLEAN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

ANYWAYS. Lunch was good, if a bit underwhelming. The food was actually very good, and my Bloody Mary was like a 7/10 which is way better than average around here.

But our waiter was a total dud, to the point that it was distracting. I was obsessed with the thought that he was going out back to huff airplane glue in between each interaction with us. And he was American, which was extra humiliating, as I’m always banging on about how much superior American service standards are. It’s HIS fault my $30 chicken burger tasted like vague dissatisfaction.

Manly Wharf

Nick on ferry, not amused

shoes on fence

Nick on beach, still not amused


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