It's a Wednesday night in Newcastle. I have half my dinner uneaten and sitting beside me. It looks revolting-- though it once was a pretty nice pasta a few days ago. I made it for Bryan's final dinner in Australia. It was a pumpkin risoni. For those of you who do not know what that is, it is a grain-like pasta. What inspired me to make it was a dish we had had in Melbourne.
It was our last night in that fabulous city and we were wandering around aimlessly. I was beginning to get food-cranky. For me, if I'm tired and hungry, I begin to get short-tempered, frustrated and sometimes mean. Some people would call this being "bitchy" and I wouldn't disagree with them. Poor Bryan was trying to find a suitable place for us while I kept blabbing away about how difficult it was to find a decent place to eat especially when Melbourne is considered to be a haven for great food and wine.
After several minutes of walking through dark streets and cafe alley ways, I noticed a sign that read, "Vue de Monde." I had read in a tourist brochure that it was considered to be an excellent French restaurant. Without thinking twice, I grabbed Bryan by the arm and probably rather aggressively because I was in one of my moods. When we got in, however, I froze. It was decadent to the point of making me feel rather insecure and weak. Don't you despise that? On the one hand, I adore fine dining and fine experiences in general. But on the other hand-- and you can ask Bryan about my irrational insecurities-- I avoid those places-- restaurants and shops-- completely. Something about the way that hierarchy, or maybe better put, exclusivity, is blatantly on show really bothers me. "Vue de Monde" had a soft reflection of that... though it wasn't so overbearing that I ran for the hills.
When we got into the restaurant, a server took one glance at us and asked us if we needed assistance. I told her that we had wandered in and we're looking for a bite to eat. She suggested we go to the Bistro part of the restaurant. We followed her down a hall and into an obscure part of the restaurant. When we entered, it was beautiful. French paintings, red cushions, dim lighting all gave the allure of European romance and sophistication. It was stuffy, don't get me wrong, but I decided to play along.
When we were given menus, I kind of choked at the prices. Now, the Bistro is supposed to be the more "casual" dining experience of the restaurant, but judging by the prices, atmosphere and service, one could easily mistake the Bistro as very fine dining. I don't even want to imagine what the other half of the restaurant was like...
Still, we had a fabulous experience. I had had a pumpkin risoni. It was about half the size of a regular serving but every mouthful was simply divine. Bryan, who had opted for the steak, had the best cut, best cooked, best presented steak I had seen in many months. And the wine-- oh the wine-- every drop was savoured. Every ounce of it was delicious. So delicious, in fact, that I had to close my eyes with every sip and give my full attention to the flavour. And then the creme brulee arrived and I almost died.
Most of you know my obsession with food and wine but I think I've been taken to new heights since this last dining experience. It's probably lame for you to read about it but I think food is so important. It really is the center piece of every celebration. Who goes to a wedding or an anniversary without food? Who goes to a party without the snacks and booze? Who goes to a funeral and leaves before the miniature ham sandwiches are passed around? I don't know. I adore food because I adore people and delicious experiences. It doesn't bode well with my figure at the best of times but I am much happier laughing with friends over a glass of vino and chocolate than starring at my fridge vacantly and hungry.
Now that I'm currently on my second... er, no... third glass of wine, this all makes a lot of sense to me. I hope it does to you. But getting back to the point, Bryan and I had a wonderful though unexpected dining experience and it was a nice send-off from Melbourne. I recommend the place to anyone who enjoys art, food and shopping.
Our trip made me really appreciate Newcastle too. It may not be the most cultured or exciting place in Australia but it has a lot of fine cafes, restaurants and people. The university is gorgeous and, if you know where you're going, there are parts of the city that are just splendid. I particularly like Darby Street. It's home to the best of the best in food and fashion. It's also not too too far from the beach-- depending on where you are on the street, I guess. Yesterday, a friend of mine and I went to Monkey Monkey Monkey. It was a really nice cafe with mediocre service but still with a lovely atmosphere and great food. We spent a good couple of hours discussing the really freaky people in our film class, politics and the best television series ever made. It was fun to lounge about and it got me thinking: I would be a fabulous dandy. All they ever did was discuss high art, eat, party and celebrate. I would be a great candidate! Where is the university degree for that? All kidding aside, I know I'm not a dandy because I'm not as clever as Oscar Wilde nor as good-looking as his lover, Lord Alfred Douglas.
Getting back to our trip, however, I will say that it was very fun and successful. We saw a lot of things and did some things that could never be done at home... namely a Dracula cabaret/dinner show and a wine tour. We ate a lot of good food and got to spend much needed time together. I miss him so much but I'm trying to focus on school as much as possible right now. Having said that, I am almost finished my third glass of wine... tisk tisk...
I don't know if there is anything more I'd like to add to this post other than the fact that you all should go out and eat a really fabulous meal with great people. It doesn't hurt to do it in a foreign place, either.
My wish is that you all are happy and well. I will be seeing some of you around soon and some of you in a few months, and I look forward to it!
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