Monthly Archives: October 2011

Tastegasm: posh foodcourt nosh

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Some experiences require an expanding of the vocabulary. Foodie friends, let me introduce you to the CARBGASM.

Carb-loading

I know that a food court isn’t exactly the place you’d be expecting to experience a divine, gourmet carbgasm. Food courts are usually shopping centre quagmires full to the brim with screaming kids, greasy fast food and screaming kids.

But shopping conglomerate Westfield had other ideas when developing the food court for its premier centre in Sydney’s CBD. The Food on Level Five ‘food court’ is posh as they come. Gour-met to be precise. Continue reading →

Tastegasm: nothing fishy about Bannisters

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‘Rick Stein at Bannisters’ restaurant – Mollymook,  Australia

Gluttony. It’s one of the seven deadly sins. It’s also what most foodies like to take part in while on holidays. I’m no exception and it appears to run in the family…

When my sister recently visited the quaint seaside town of Mollymook the focus of her visit was totally centred around going to feast at Bannisters, Rick Stein’s seafood restaurant. Yes, it appears that an obsession with eating runs in the family.

Scalloped & pan-fried ocean trout

My sister, being the fussy little miss that she is (I love her but she’s the world’s most ‘discerning’ person in every way), is the perfect person to review a restaurant. She’s not gonna say it’s good unless it’s exceptional.

Rick Stein is quite possibly the original celebrity chef and his seafood recipes are legendary. So when the man opens a restaurant in a beautiful seaside town, it’s not going to have any trouble pulling in diners. Continue reading →

One-night stand: The Sunburnt Calf, New York City

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There’s nothing worse than travelling to another country and going to a themed bar right? Wrong.

As an Aussie, I would normally NEVER go to an ‘Aussie’ bar in another country. And there are plenty of them. Yep, I’m kind of a parochial bar snob. I’m not spending eight hours plus on a plane to go to bar that’s like home. (Ironically, they’re never really like a bar at home anyway, but I digress.)

So when my American friend suggested we go have a few drinks at The Sunburnt Calf on New York City’s Upper West Side, I was less than enthusiastic. The only thing keeping me hopeful was that my friend has great taste in bars and alcohol. Continue reading →

Travelgasm: when the festival’s rockin’, do come a knockin’

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For the past 15 years, the hospitable people of Coolangatta and Tweed Heads, Queensland, Australia, have been allowing fans of everything retro to get their rocks off at Cooly Rocks On.

The celebration of all things 50s and 60s (known as Wintersun until 2010) has a long history on the Gold Coast. This festival was rocking long before it was trendy to be retro, but with the resurgence of all things nostalgic in the past five years or so, crowds continue to grow each year.

I was corrupted at a young age by nostalgia. My first birthday was at a car show. Being a first-born daughter didn’t stop my father – a total old car nut – from taking me out into the garage every chance he got to teach me the ropes. Mum and Dad took me along to rock ‘n’ roll dancing lessons, and I was MORTIFIED when I was picked up from school in our 1964 Pontiac Parisienne. (I later realised this was actually pretty cool). Continue reading →

One-night stand: a Stitch in time

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Stitch Bar, Sydney, Australia

The doors of Stitch were wide, wide open – so we* slipped right in.

Actually, wide open might be a bit of an exaggeration because the doorway of Stitch Bar is actually a haberdashery shop front, complete with a rack of clothes. Oh, and a dark mysterious man playing the electric guitar. (Yes, really. We later find out he’s security.)

Stitch entrance

Despite feeling like, so not hip enough to walk into this bar, we pushed forward through the doorway. As we descend down the darkened stairs, I spotted 20 or so vintage Singer sewing machines holding the bar up. Very clever. If I didn’t know better (and if there wasn’t Johnny Cash blasting from the speakers) I’d have thought I had just walked into my grandmother’s sitting room. But Nan didn’t own multiple sewing machines and she certainly wasn’t a Johnny Cash fan. She was a fan of the lampshade though, as are the owners of Stitch, with many vintage-style light covers softening the glow around the bar.

Sew cool - the Singer

Continue reading →