Sunday, February 22, 2009

harvest picnic

snuck out of Ballafornia for the day yesterday and travelled on a bus with the girl and a few mates to the harvest picnic at hanging rock. Its a kind of foodie gig with a hundred or so stalls offering tastings and product and you lay out your picnic blanket and sample the wares in the shade of the big rock and some nice old gum trees. As was to be expected the place was ckockers with sniffing, swilling and nibbling Northcote types waxing loudly about floral notes, tannins and organic techniques of cultivation. It wasn't hard to ignore them after a bottle of two of shiraz though. Had cocktails from Der Raum (cheers Matty!), Daiquiris, cheese from Camperdown, more Daquiris, yabby paté (cue the Donald McKay jokes for Australian readers), Bass River and Witch Mountain red wine, fresh pistachios which were weird, buffalo sausage and three bundy and cokes on the way home. Music from Combo la Revelacion was excellent, Darryl Braithwaite was embarrassing and the flamenco guys set up near our spot were great. Sunburn and a mild hangover aside, a brilliant day!

Thursday, February 12, 2009

7 weeks

there's a lot to say, but on reflection not as much as you would think. I've found a certain rhythm, an acceptable level where work and survival aren't mutually exclusive, Small pleasures, like a red bull and a fag while I read the papers before we open, or a porterhouse and chips and a glass of red after a busy service. New bits of joy like nips of cointreau with the missus after a hard days slog whilst overseeing the late staff like a slightly pissed but hopefully benevolent walrus.

I'l try to write more soon. To those who've wished me well or popped in for a pint and a feed, slainté.