The Robert Burns Hotel // Melbourne

Sometimes I foolishly fool myself into thinking I could one day, maybe, be a vegetarian. But I am just a fool for thinking that because when I hear good news I almost immediately jump up from my bright mustard chair, dance and shout, “Steak dinner? Absolutely yes!!” then I probably high-five whoever I’m taking to; Jack in this case.

So far in Jack and I’s relationship a celebration dinner has meant a huge steak we would not other wise, ever, spend money on. Exhibit A: a celebration dinner upon beating Jack in scramble with friends (find and play me: abibianca)! This time around though we were celebrating something much bigger and much better, we were celebrating being Jack Post just a little more than we usually do every day.

Since he was the cause for celebration he picked the place, the Robert Burns Hotel on Smith Street in Collingwood; which I agreed with %150 percent due to their extremely inviting and relaxing outdoor area, and the start of Melbourne’s perfect summer weather. Add in a pitcher of sangria, spanish background music, and our waiter’s spanish accent and you’ve time traveled to Madrid Spain in 2.5 minutes.  Oh wait, flights for time travel are booked, you’ll just have to take Quantas and visit during 2012. But that’s not so bad, the food is better now anyway!

In addition to the pitcher of red sangria, Jack and I both ordered the Eye Fillet with sautéed green beans with jamon, and roast garlic and potato mash.

The thing about the eye fillet is that it’s so juicy and delicious you may forget to chew it properly, or all together for that matter. I did. And when I couldn’t swallow it the panic and flashing red lights set in. But instead of choosing to die, I chose to fight; I pulled the piece of steak, hanging by a string, out of my throat in front of my boyfriend. I’m very attractive! Luckily, he was too busy enjoying his eye fillet to notice.

I know chewing is an instinctive reflex once food is in your mouth  but sometimes the tiny pieces of jamon sprinkled over your green beans take all your attention and there is none left to tell the brain to chew.

Oh, on the topic of sides… they were incredible! We want to go back and just get more small plates for a typical tapas, non celebration meal. You don’t need steak for that, you only need a place like the Robert Burns Hotel with food good and a great atmosphere. Or maybe that’s just the wannabe vegetarian in me typing.

Australian Thanksgiving Round 1

This may or may not have been the first Thanksgiving in all of Australia but by turkey and wine it was the best one. And I say that with enough confidence to speak freely on behalf of every Australian, or at least the 15 I know personally.

This holiday is all about being thankful, and I truly cannot express, not even in the words I’m typing, how thankful  I am for the company I had. Without them I would have been a sad and hungry girl for at least 24 hours of last week.

Everything, food and costumes included, came together almost too nicely. And that’s mostly all thanks to Jill, the beautiful lady below who was MVP in making all of this happen. Second to her came MC, who by a stroke of amazing friendship came early and delivered some of the most popular dishes on the table.

After a day filled with math and measuring and following instructions came enticing aromas, red wine, a string of thank you notes, feminist outbursts and peace between pilgrims and indians alike. If there is anything to learn from planning/cooking this thanksgiving feast it’s this:

1) Have Planet Earth available for viewing by every male in attendance.

2) Always invite a friend who looks like Pocahontas and can help finish dressing a banoffee pie.

3) Make sure at least one friend is fully covered in blue so they can touch nothing except the camera all day long.

4) No matter what the magazine recipes demand you cook everything in the oven at the same temperature.

5) A 3.2 kilo turkey CAN feed 12 people with meat to spare.

6) No one fictional Indian tribe is better than any other. Except for pilgrims.

7) Surprisingly to me, dressing and spinach puffs are an all around favorite.

8) “Don’t do it Meg, you’re a feminist” is not a advice you often hear on Thanksgiving when asked, from one lady to another, to get more forks on the table, but it really gets a laugh.

9) Wearing an apron makes you a better chef by 350 degrees Celsius.

10) Anyone can enjoy Thanksgiving. Anyone!

An extremely special thanks to my family for, well, everything. And a capitalized THANK YOU to my mom for sending the Thanksgiving decorations that set this whole thing in motion!

The Paramount // Boston

I keep a draft folder in my gmail account filled with restaurants I want to visit. It’s categorized by city, which keeps the research and decision making easy when travelling. After five short days of visiting my sister I had crossed out everything on my Boston list, which caused disappointment on my families face when the only idea I could offer was a blank stare. We needed something fun, quick, and delicious, so I searched and searched my blogroll but couldn’t find anything that fit. I finally turned to Time Out Boston and found The Paramount.

The Paramount is a small caffe in Beacon Hill that stands out due to its head to toe red awning. Everything in Boston seems to include a hint of red in the fall, even the trees, and I’m loving it. Inside The Paramount you’ll find a long and open kitchen giving their cafeteria style eating system a comfortable and homey feel. As you walk in you will be greeted by a host who will explain how it all works. You get in line, choose what you’d like to devour, order, and watch as multiple chefs work together to prepare it. A little like Mama’s in San Francisco but you witness a lot more action.

The need for something warm and comforting lead me to order the Banana and Caramel French Toast; with the addition of a small coffee and a large orange juice my meal was perfect. I got caramel on the side, but it all ended up in my tummy anyway. I already knew banana and caramel was a match made in heaven but the addition of french toast is ace. I was suppose to share with my sister, but it somehow all disappeared before she had the chance to ask for some.

Every 5 minutes at least one person came walking through the door. On the Friday morning we went, it wasn’t unbelievably packed, but it was definitely busy which should have been a given due to it’s desirable location. Since they serve brunch until 430pm I’m sure it fills up quickly as the day goes on.

Another fun fact about The Paramount is that it’s run by Colombians! We probably should have tried the Huevos Rancheros, but I guess there’s always next time. And the time after that.

Catching up over a meal.

If you’ve been to Seasons 52 and remember your meal then I’m very jealous of you.

Seasons 52 is one of those restaurants I was intimidated by during high school. At the time it seemed really grown up and mature, almost like the restaurant version of a cool older sister who was elegant and popular without even trying. In this scenario I would be the dorky younger sister who didn’t have the guts to ask her sister for a ride to school with her and her pretty friends. You know what I mean?

It’s been a long time since high school though and still have yet to visit Season’s 52. But because I’m older and staying in the same room at my parents house during my visit I couldn’t help but wonder what it was that drew me there.

This story isn’t about Seasons 52 though (I wish it were), this story is about how after a year of not seeing one of my best friends in the world, Sara, I suggested we catch up over dinner at Season’s 52. Not only did Sara and I have tons to catch up on, her new boyfriend who I’d never met was coming, and her parents whom I adore! Choosing a restaurant I wanted to visit for the actual food was a terrible decision.

I could not tell you what I ordered, how my food was, which dessert I ate or what the bathrooms looked like. All I remember is yapping away like a maniac and being too excited to pay attention to the lovely waitress explaining their seasonal menu and promising that nothing on the menu is over 475 calories (I only know those two facts because I cheated and looked them up). I can’t even say if Season’s 52 met those expectations I’ve held since high school. It’s probably best I never know.

I just want you to mark my words when I say that I will never again suggest a restaurant I have not been to when catching up with friends. From now on all my catching up will done over homemade dishes, or restaurants both the catcher upper and I have been to.

I Have to Talk About Popovers

I need to talk about Popovers.

I had never heard of, seen, or tried a popover until this past week during my attempt to make yet another Jamie Oliver recipe. Since I’m new to his multitasking style of cooking, and I’m very nervous to be cooking for my parents instead of my boyfriend (who will tell me he likes anything I make) I’m very careful when choosing a recipe. If I don’t feel I can make every single aspect of the meal then I simply skip some. This usually means the drinks and desserts become an after thought.

When I was studying the Beef Tenderloin with Crispy Potato recipe in Jamie Oliver’s 30 minute Meals, I didn’t understand what the Popover was. Is it dessert? Is it a side? Is this a mistake? How is this so simple? Just flour, eggs, salt and milk? This isn’t a thing!

I decided to make it regardless of my doubts as a valuable addition to the meal. It was so simple so why not.

And okay, I can’t stop eating them now!

According to everything I’ve now looked up, I’m eating them wrong. But not knowing what to do with a plate full of simple, plain jane popovers and a disappointed look on my mom’s face, I went to the pantry, found condensed milk, and told them to dip.

It’s just so easy and so satisfying; they seem to fit perfectly with every meal. I want to start serving them with white chocolate or milk chocolate. Has anyone else done this yet?

Mad for Mad Pizza… It’s Clever, See?

I think we can agree it’s tough to find pizza that is terrible. The beauty of pizza is that when it’s bad, it’s still good. That’s why finding a pie of pizza that can put a grin on my face and a tomato sauce stain on my new striped shirt is a favorite hobby of mine.

Being a tourist can be expensive and tiring, so the second night of our trip to Sydney we decided to order in. In our friend’s kitchen we found a box of about 20 menus, Mad Pizza’s menu caught my eye immediately  I loved their choice of font, you could tell they specialized in pizza, and it was close to where we were staying – there was a change of plans.

We walked 3 minutes to their Potts Point location. The space is very small, but open so it works in their favor. Sitting outside on a warm summer’s night was glorious.

There was a deal of one beer and a large pizza for 20 dollars, so we ordered the pepperoni, which came with sliced pepperoni, roma tomato’s, black kalamata olives & basil leaves, I got anchovies on my half because I love them and we both got the optional chilli.

While we waited for our food, they gave us crayons to draw on the brown paper that lined the tables. We played hangman, tic tac toe and the dot game, like the 12 year olds that we are.

Then the pizza came! It was light and super thin even with the oily pepperoni. It was also made with love; you could tell. My mouth felt more tingly with each bite, but I couldn’t stop; I really didn’t want to. It was one of those pizzas you finish and you’re a little heartbroken it’s over. Unlike those pizzas you wish would disappear so you didn’t have to keep eating it… you know what I’m talking about, right? 

I had such a wonderful experience I had to ask the waitress about the restaurant. She said the owners were infatuated with true italian pizza, they started out shipping ingredients from Italy, until they found their own style. She also said all three restaurants are in tiny locations because never in their wildest dreams did they think Mad Pizza would take off the way they did. Hopefully, they’ll be opening one in Melbourne next! 

Be advised: iPhone pictures do not do it justice, obviously.

Is there anyone else in the world that does this?

I knew my boyfriend was weird when we started dating, it’s half the reason why he’s my favorite person on the planet. But I didn’t catch on to his weird food habit until this summer. He does this thing with any and every plate that brings french fries as a side that freaks me out.

For example: He ordered a hamburger at Pub on the Park, and didn’t look at it or touch it until all of his french fries were gone. Even at McDonalds he does this. 

The worst part is that he’s so full by the time he gets to fixing up his burger that he only eats half of it and probably only because I tell him about the starving children in… everywhere. 

I’ve seen them scoff down a burger and never touch their fries, I’ve seen people put fries in their burgers, and I’ve witnessed people order fries only. I’ve never, EVER!, seen anyone make french fries a priority like him.

* these pictures were taken about 10 minutes apart. The fries were gone and the hamburger was still untouched by the time I was done with my meal.

Is there anyone else in the world that does this?

Venice, Italy: Trattoria alla Madonna

My favorite place in Venice is Trattoria alla Madonna. Yes, it’s a resturant; how predictable of me.

But this is different, see? The level of excitement to eat at the restaurant was through the roof. This is my parent’s favorite restaurant in their favorite city. The first time they came to Venice they found it, the second time they want back, and the third time they ate dinner there for the entirety of their trip. How embarrassing for them if my sister and I didn’t like it!

We made sure to be there at 6:30pm, for their 7pm opening time. After following my dad around for 2 hours (he insisted to lead us from memory), we found it! Walk along side the Canale Grande, turn on Calle della Madonna, walk down the alley and you’ll see the bright yellow sign. Ten people had already formed a line outside. We took our place behind them.

At 10 till 7 a older man sporting an amazing mustache, a true pasta belly (this term can be found in the biancionary), and a classy all white outfit, came out of the restaurant. Using his cute Italian accent and a lot of enthusiasm, he asked if we were ready to eat. I don’t know why we loved that so much, but my sister and i decided it’s how we would call our families to eat one day… when we have families… a long time from now…

He walked us through the all white, three room restaurant. We were seated in the room filled with paintings by Italian artists that I would have loved to take a closer look at had the place not been packed by the time I looked back up from the menu.

My parents didn’t even look at the menu when it came time to order; my sister and I were a whole other story. We wanted to try everything. Our Italian waiter was either laughing with us or at us, but he was definitely enjoying himself.

Thanks to that lovely man we had a little bit of, almost, everything on the menu: wine, pasta, fish, prosciutto, anchovies; the works. I barely had time to take pictures before the food went under attack. It was too good and gone too fast. So we went back the next day, and the day after that.

I can’t explain how satisfying, delectable, even scrumptious the food was. I’m not saying you should go, I’m saying my entire family hopes you do!

 

When Shopping Leads to Eating.

You know how sometimes you agree to go shopping with a friend even though you absolutely can’t buy anything? And then you spend an entire day keeping away from anything resembling that black leather backpack from Top Shop you want, and outside your friends dressing room saying, “yes, definitely buy it! At least you can!”

This happens to me a lot. I especially tend to hover over any book section I find, but especially in Urban Outfitters.

In Urban Outfitters was, what I assume to be, the newest, most hip and exciting restaurant guide book sharing where in London I should be eating. I immediately turned to East London, my neighborhood. There was only one restaurant listed in there that I hadn’t heard of which actually interested me: E. Pellicci.

Located in East London, the family owned E. Pellicci takes up a very small amount of place on Bethnal Green Road. It’s cozy in there, making it perfect for the atmosphere they maintain. If you like to keep to yourself during breakfast and like to have no interaction with the server other than the necessary then stay away. You will become best friends with the server by the time you take your seat. His name will most likely be Nevio Junior, and he will most likely suggest you order the freshly squeezed orange juice. You should do it, it’s delicious.

He will also suggest the breakfast sandwich. I got mine with egg, bacon, cheese, tomato and mustard. It was so good I went back the same week for another. The amount of food you get for the price and quality is astonishing. E. Pellicci is the only place in London I found that I can really say that about.

To be honest, I chose to order the breakfast sandwich out of fear. The plates being served to the patrons sitting around us were at sauce capacity. The lasagna – actually, I’m not if it was lasagna I couldn’t see the actual food.

This is truly a restaurant to visit when you’re hungry. Even our breakfast sandwichs were too much. So if you’re ever in East London and in the mood for some filling food, make your way to E. Pellicci and visit Mama Maria. She will help you leave there full, with money in your pocket, and a new friend, maybe even two.

Burger or Lobster or Both.

Sometimes you want a burger and sometimes you feel like lobster, but other times you can go to a place called Burger & Lobster and take your time to decide.

I love Burger and Lobster, in SoHo, London, for their no bullshit attitude. If you haven’t put it together by now, they only offer two food options: a burger or  lobster. I still asked for a menu; I’m not very good at math. The waitress laughed, No, no, no you silly, clueless girl, she said while petting my head in a maternal like fashion. Okay, I’m exaggerating. She just laughed a little, then explained.

The deal is that for 20 pounds you can order a lobster, a burger or a lobster roll. All 3 meals are accompanied by a side of french fries, salad and garlic/butter sauce. It’s basically the equivalent of finding out there is a Six Flags in heaven, after you’re accepted in.

Another option if you’re entire party wants lobster is to choose from a variety of lobster sizes sold by pound. That option comes with unlimited french fries and unlimited salad. It felt like I had hit the jackpot, but in reality none of us finished our first round of sides.

I didn’t try the burger, but I do have at least 5 eye witness accounts of me going nuts over the lobster. It’s hard for me to judge lobster, since I was raised in Florida, but I can without a doubt say it wins “Most Fun Food”. I get in deep no matter the costs; I scoop, scrap, suck, hammer, rip and crack. I feel powerful and in control. Our waitress spotted me eating like a 3 year old, came over and said “she knows what she’s going” to my boyfriend. It was one of my proudest moments.

I do have to admit I really liked the lobster roll as well. The grilled and buttered roll it came with was a winning touch. But because I love the appearance of food and a little bang for my buck I’d probably stick with a whole lobster.

I say, don’t just pick one meal. Get two! Share! They will split anything perfectly in half for you. Have a party! I mean, you get a bib for goodness sake.

Burger and Lobster