Last year, I had big plans for my birthday – I was going to head to Bistecca and order a huge hunk of steak to comfort myself over the necessity of turning yet another year older. But of course, we all knew how that panned out. Like pretty much everything last year, those plans were ruined by covid, and I didn’t end up getting my steak until about September. Thankfully, this year things are looking a lot better, and I managed to get to their sister restaurant, The Gidley, exactly on my birthday!
I’ve been out clubbing exactly once in my life. Twice, if you generously count the time where a mate booked out a small dive bar for his birthday party. And that one time was enough to teach me that my penchant for good food does not stop after midnight. Unfortunately for me, the one time I went proper-clubbing was in Sydney, and by the time we emerged on the wrong side of 1am, kebabs and Maccas were the only options available. Growing up in Melbourne meant that I was used to wine bars and supper clubs open to the crack of dawn on weekends, if not around the clock, this came as a rather unpleasant shock. But once place I…
Until I moved to Sydney, I was never keen on falafel. In Melbourne, they were more often than not an afterthought, thrown onto the side of the obligatory vegetarian platter. Even at restaurants that specialised in falafel, they were never quite as delicious as the ones I’ve become used to in Sydney. These days however, the thought of a bit of fried chickpea gets me rather excited. So when news emerged of Jimmy’s Falafel, where the chef apparently spent 3 months perfecting his special falafel mix (which unusually, is a combination of fava beans and chickpeas, rather than one or the other), I was there and ready to be delighted.
Bistecca was originally going to be my birthday dinner this year, but then, y’know, Covid happened. Thankfully once the worst of the first wave was over, not only did Bistecca reopen quick-smart, they also started accepting bookings for groups of any size. This was extremely good news, because apparently smaller parties used to have to show up at 4pm to scribble your name on a piece of butcher’s paper on the door, and hope you get a call sometime later that night.
One of the things I was most disappointed to have missed out on during my Japan trip was the authentic izakaya experience. I was so keen to chase up that perfect bowl of ramen – this was 2012 and good ramen absolutely did not exist in Melbourne – that I didn’t spare much time for anything else. And whilst I certainly don’t regret eating a bowl of noodles (sometimes two) a day, I do wish I had made time for even just one late-night izakaya trip. At least I have my 2022 honeymoon to Japan to look forward to; that is, if we’re let off this Covid Coaster by then!
As obnoxious as the term may sound, I consider myself to be a flexitarian, which is really just a buzzy way of saying that I’m semi-vegetarian. For those of you who’ve read a few posts on my blog, this may seem like a big fat, juicy, meaty lie. But even taking into account the one or two times where I go out to eat, I probably don’t have meat more than 4 or 5 times out of the total of 30-odd meals I have each week. Mind you, this wasn’t so much of a conscious decision on my part as a combination of a lack of time, and seeing one-too-many limbs amputated due to diabetes at the hospital, but I…