Welcome back lovely reader of my recently neglected, but dearly loved food blog! In the next few weeks/months, I’ll be rampantly posting a huge backload of posts, in an effort to clear out a ballooning WIP folder, sync my computer with my little external hard drive (a trusty friend in the last few disjointed months) and basically make more time for my love of food/blogging. Well that’s the plan anyway:P
Well, to start, my recent interludes into Sydney have been fortunate enough to coincide with some fun food events, one being the Taste of Sydney festival. An outdoor festival held last month in the serene Centennial Park. Being lucky ticketholders of the Saturday night session, the girls and I were offered not only the gourmet delights of Sydney, but as a bonus (and for free I might add), we were was treated to a night of torrential rain, gale force winds and plastic ponchos. Mother Nature sure knows how to add some atmosphere.
So, after arriving at 5pm on the dot, the clouds descend and suddenly a storm in upon us. We dash to the nearest pavilion, finding a wine tasting class ready to begin – How Convenient! I generally prefer to eat before/while drinking but really, between a choice of first class wines and cold, soul drenching rain….it’s a pretty easy decision isn’t it?
Beautiful wines; I loved the tasting, Sindel loved finishing my spread, Madam Saucy loved the fact there was no spittle bucket and H perfected her wine musing look – all in all, a fun way to begin our night.
After this little nibble we meet up with Herr Mouttard, JJW and Snow White, who point us in the direction of Restaurant Balzac.
A fancy spring roll - a damn good fancy spring roll. The beef melted in my mouth (as expected) and the crunchy outer contrasted nicely with the cooling cauliflower cream.
I look up to notice our resident vegetarian looking hungry, next stop Danks St Depot. As we arrive, we’re greeted by Jared Ingersoll, who emerges to reassure us his food tastes as good as it looks.
Suddenly, the urge for wine overcomes us, fortunately the girls at the Wyndham Estate stall are more than happy to oblige. We meander through the side stalls drinking wine, tasting cheese, sweets and olive oils among many other mouth watering treats.
At this point, I’m getting hungry again and can feel the Crowns (the festival’s currency) in my bag calling out to me. Next stop – Jonah’s at Whale Beach and Bécasse. Being men who love meat (let’s face it, most of them do…), JJW and Herr Mouttard are almost physically pushing us towards the Plan B Wagyu beef burger. We trek over to the stall and find a massive line waiting for said burger. Generally, we found the crowd and lines quite small in the festival, but this beef burger was pulling in a huge crowd, by far the most popular dish of the night.
We waited patiently… and were rewarded with this awesome baby! Apologies for my amateur photo, this is a truly unflattering shot of a truly delicious burger. I found myself in my own little world, groaning with satisfaction as I was eating it and oddly, paranoid that someone would ask for a bite. If you have never experienced a foodgasm, I’m sure this will do it for you, (pending meat eating status).
Speaking of non-meat eaters, resourceful Sindel joined Herr Mouttard next door to grab some fish action.
I grabbed a bite of these and again wished I had the courage to deep fry in my own kitchen.
On our way to grab some champagne (I’m a sucker for the bubbly at the moment), Madam Saucy and I were distracted by seafood.
Not sure where the alleged crispy shallots and coriander have gone but that didn’t stop us enjoying these slurpy little mouthfuls. We tried to save some for Sindel and H (Group motto had changed to Divide and Conquer by this point) but with no luck finding them we took it for the team and finished off the plate, it’s the thought that counts?
It’s time for dessert and with our few remaining Crowns, we find:
Being the predictable chocoholic that he is, Herr Mouttard instinctively veered towards the Lindt stall to finish his night with this gooey concoction. The icecream was a bit melted by the time I’d gotten to it but still good nevertheless.
I know panna cotta is a cinch to make at home but I still gravitate towards it when I’m out. This wobbly baby really hit the spot that night, it was sweet yet light, and it’s provocative vanilla seed peak was a was fun to watch – until I ate it!
Mother Nature has incredible timing and as we polish off our last bites the rain returns with renewed vigour. Suddenly the only thing I can think about is how fat, cold and hard the raindrops are on my head and how grateful I am that I didn’t end up wearing that white top that seems to be on high rotation in my wardrobe at the moment. Turns out I go home in a white top of a completely different kind – an unbecoming white plastic poncho which renders me devoid of any womanly shape and is irritatingly much too long, but keeps me (somewhat) dry as I walk what seem to be miles, out to Oxford St to get a cab. That poncho providing man must have been everyone’s hero during the night. Now, if only someone would organise a food festival for me every weekend.