the song list

Posted on by Eatlovego

Like Fred Astaire or the Tapdogs; one of our wishes for April 10 was to get people footloose and on their feet, shaking their tail feathers and ultimately, dancing like no one was watching. Music and copious amounts of it is around me daily whether it’s a tune I am humming to myself or a shower song I am belting out to reverberate off the tiles or if I am winding down after a day’s work singing along to Sophie Millman. And most people have a song they groove to where the electricity flows out of their feet and gets the blood pumping as the beat takes over. You might be swaying from side to side, moving your head in a ferocious manner or just jiggling your right knee. Know that feeling? Well, my song is the MJ classic Don’t Stop ‘Til You Get Enough. A hint of the the sound of that intro gets me up in a heartbeat and dancing around like no one’s watching and I love it.

So to choose music for April 10 was more than just choosing an ad out of Bride to Be and ticking a box. A song list was chosen first and every song on it was one that had a memory attached to it in leaps and bounds. There was no limit and with pen to paper, the list kept growing and getting more colourful as it moved through the genres. Next a decision needed to be made between a live band or a DJ. Both presented pros and cons but despite my in depth search, I could not find a band who’s singer sounded as deep as Barry White, had the same melodic tones as Norah or the quick beat of Stevie.

To the DJ we chose, we added the element of spontaneity of a saxophonist who fired up the night with short sharp bursts in all of the right moments. And when the bouquet was being thrown backwards into the crowd, nothing could compete with Beyonce’s All the Single Ladies other than the fighting hands of Kate.

The final song list I look at now and I love the memories attached to each song both before and now after April 10.

  1. Sex bomb, Tom Jones
  2. Ain’t no mountain high enough, Sister Act soundtrack
  3. I wanna dance with Somebody, Whitney Houston
  4. Moondance, Van Morrison
  5. The Way you look tonight, Tony Bennett
  6. Signed, Sealed, Delivered, I’m Yours Stevie Wonder
  7. Unchained Melody, The Righteous Brothers
  8. Midnight Train to Georgia, Renee Geyer
  9. The Nearness of You, Norah Jones
  10. The Way you make me feel, Michael Jackson
  11. Don’t Stop ‘Til You Get Enough, Michael Jackson
  12. Come Fly with Me, Michael Buble
  13. My Baby just cares for me, Nina Simone
  14. Best of My Love, The Emotions
  15. Get up (I feel like being a) Sex Machine, James Brown
  16. Love X Love, George Benson
  17. I heard it through the grapevine, Creedence Clearwater Revival
  18. Chan Chan, Buena Vista Social Club
  19. Dancing In the Street, Martha Reeves and The Vandellas
  20. Can’t get enough of your love, babe Barry White
  21. Ain’t nothing like the real thing, Aretha Franklin

If this is on the menu it’s my first choice

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I know some people can’t stand to do this. They would rather order something else or even ask someone to do it for them. If you spend too much time thinking about it then yes, it can be disgusting and overly fiddly but my love for them is too great and everything becomes a journey to reach a destination especially when it comes to eating. I’m talking about prawns, fresh ones and the art of peeling them, either by hand or if the flavours are so great and cooked Chinese-style with lots of garlic and shallots then, in my mouth. I think my man thought it was some sort of party trick at first! However, there is nothing I love more than to go to the Fish markets, lining up and buying a kilo of fresh tiger prawns and sitting outside with my sleeves rolled up to peel and eat every one there and then. Lemon, mayo or not, it was a love that Dad introduced me to when I was around 4 years old and I have never looked back. Last year for Christmas I made a huge tray of prawns which were skewered and to prepare for the BBQ were doused in fish sauce, ginger, garlic, fresh baby chillies, soy sauce, palm sugar, coriander and lime zest. I did have help this time to peel 5 kilos of prawns (from my niece – it’s obviously in our blood) but it was by memory, a relaxing afternoon and golly, the end product was magnificent.

Day 1 we arrived into Hobart late afternoon and were famished by 7pm when we waltzed into Flatheads after a recommendation from Hotel Islington. Located in South Hobart, 5 minutes drive from the hotel it is a spot we were told where locals like to frequent and our immediate sight was the fresh seafood that was presented in more of a fishmonger style than fine restaurant. But all the same the fish looked fresh, had ample colour and plumpness and there was a huge variety to choose from. Our menu informed us about the 15 or so types available to eat from the more common barra to a childlike character type called Snotty Trevally (aka Blue Warehou) to one that seemed more like a fundraiser called Pink Ling. Our waiter demonstrated a good knowledge of what was in season, how it was to be cooked and matched our order to a fabulous local wine from Bream Creek.

First up and the entrees presented themselves to be Abalone cooked in a mustard seed-star anise broth for my man and 6 fresh prawns for me with a garlic toastie and aioli. Not the slightest bit fazed, prawns were peeled in a flash and sweetness was instantly savoured. Mains were equally as delightful (my Bouillabaise was the perfect choice for a cold first night) and we left Flatheads with full and warm bellies.

And if there is Spaghetti Marinara on the menu; it’s my first choice. The best so far was from an Italian restaurant on Hastings Street, Noosa QLD. It came with fresh papardelle in a steaming hot paper bag. Once ripped open, the tomato aromas awash with the fresh fragrant seafood was heaven in a bowl.

Flatheads @ 4 Cascade Road, South Hobart 7004.

Still in Hobart…a pop-up discovery

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In any new place I go to; I love to roam, purposefully get lost and discover new things. I love wandering down streets and happening across a store by chance. Homewares, make-up and perfume, general womens clothing and gift stores usually entice and beckon me in from the street. The discovery of Luxe on Liverpool Street in Hobart was a lovely by-chance moment. It was both a treasure trove of many brands that I know and already love like Aesop, Camilla and Marc, Fleur Wood and Trelise Cooper and a welcome introduction to a new array of brands like Mimosa and Muccia. Luxe is a store one could spend hours in and its stock speaks for itself as there is obviously a very good buyer who sources unique pieces both locally and on a global scale. Each piece could be a staple as much as a one-off investment but every piece is worth having in one’s possession and it took all of my will-power not to walk out with more than one purchase. I wandered around the corner to peruse in Inside which satisfied my thirst for homewares and then suddenly found myself in a back lane where I was initially walking towards an apothecary-type store advertising perfumes on a blackboard in their window. Instead my eyes diverted to the right and I was lured to the store opposite where there was a small decal on the window identifying it as Hope & Harris.

Through the glass window I immediately saw pillows adorned with bold union jack prints, dark brown oil bottles, wrought iron bird cages hanging from the ceiling, old black and white bus rolls and walls of coloured silk scarves. The air was awash with a lingering vanilla fragrance from a burning candle and as soon as I entered the store I knew it was one of those stores where I would be picking up every object to look at and instantly adore.

I asked the shopgirl if there were other stores around like this only to learn and be educated on the concept of a pop-up store. The lady I spoke to had traveled around the world and bought up stock that took her fancy only to come home and find a vacant space to set up shop for a limited time until all of the stock was gone. Another trip would then happen and a second store would pop up later in the year with more loves to sell in a different location around Hobart.

Walking out of Hope & Harris with a new silk scarf, the concept got my mind twitching as I felt inspired and in awe of this lady who had a dream with no regrets. My only hope is that I keep discovering this pop-up store as I look forward to getting lost in it again!

Luxe @ 134 Liverpool Street, Hobart 7000

Inside Home & Gifts @ 90 Murray Street, Hobart 7000

Hope & Harris currently on Bidencopes Lane, Hobart 7000

When in Hobart; go to Jackman & McRoss

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In Tasmania for my honeymoon, the first stop has been Hobart; the quaint fisherman’s capital of the apple isle. Kathy, the welcoming host at Hotel Islington (more on this later) advised my man and I to go and drive around and get acquainted with Battery Point. She said there would be small streets, beautiful timber cottages and in the day on foot, it is an area to get purposefully lost in. So driving around just as it was getting dark we came across a little village reminiscent of Bath with street names like Cheltenham Place, Hampden Street and Dewitt Lane. Backing onto the famous Saturday-special-Salamanca-Place, Hampden Street is the high street in this little pocket of Hobart.

As it was dark, I looked from side to side as we drove passing intricate antique stores, the popular Picalilly restaurant and a brightly lit lolly shop that I needed to re-visit however it was a corner place with large bay windows and a navy and white sign of Jackman & McRoss that caught my eye and I immediately said “slow down”. I recall bakery also helped the instant halt and I penned in my mind that we would be back.

Pushing the door open of Jackman & McRoss, my eyes were immediately met with rows of sourdough, baguettes, a blackboard of today’s pies, strawberry tarts, chocolate ganache pies and bap rolls. Not only a bakery, I saw there was also table service and feeling famished I sat down initially salivating over the thought of a cider beef pie. Hearing the familiar unspoken language that this place served good tucker as it was still busy with people eating all sorts of bits and pieces at 2.30pm, I looked up at the specials board and pondered…and ordered Ocean Trout stuffed with boccocini on a bed of black rice with buttered leeks and a cloudy apple juice. Not really the usual bakery fare…

Late lunch was delicious. The black rice was slightly sticky and a great accompaniment to the subtle trout flavours and the buttered leeks added to the caramelised aftertaste. The apple juice was smooth and opaque in colour and had the right amount of tartness and sweetness to wash down lunch.

As a well-known food-lover amongst friends and now post bride-diet, I am satisfyingly in foodie heaven and have not held back sampling my way through warmed spiced apple mead, fresh sheep’s milk porcini pecorino and warm porridge with braised rhubarb. So far I have only seen and tasted the freshest ingredients possible and have witnessed first-hand the abundance of good food available to use in cooking and to eat. The lunch I ate today at Jackman & McRoss was superb, a blend of complex ingredients plated simply in a bakery cafe and it was only $9.80. And that is the icing on the cake consistent with other Tasmanian restaurants and providores. In Hobart I have suprisingly seen that you don’t have to pay for the name here but just for the quality of food and the returns on flavour received inevitably have you paying more and more until you just can’t get enough!

So, here’s to more discoveries of fresh flavours tomorrow!

Jackman & McRoss @ 57 Hampden Road, Battery Point Hobart TAS 7004

a lingering fragrance

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I love flowers. I love having flowers all around the house. I love receiving flowers and I love to give flowers. There is something about a bunch of fresh flowers that brings a smile to my face. I am a spring baby so maybe that has something to do with it. I love their myriad of colours, the shapes and most of all for some, their fragrances. My nose tends to be drawn to roses or lavender or the freshness of jonquils. I love that the fragrance of particular flowers lingers in the air and is either so overpowering that it’s the first thing you smell as you walk into the house or it can suddenly waft by and catch you by surprise.

When I was a little girl, I used to stand by my Mum’s dresser and count the number of perfume bottles she had lined up. And then one by one I would take each lid off and inhale each fragrance. To this day, a whiff of Estee Lauder’s Private Collection makes me think of my Mum. Like mother, like daughter; I too loved perfumes from an early age and I remember it was Elizabeth Arden’s Sunflowers which was my first purchase. Over the years I have worn and collected many a fragrance. I am the type of girl that likes one for the day, one for evenings, an atomiser for the handbag and a couple that are “just because”.

Often like shoes, I like to bring new bottles of perfume home with me from a holiday and not just because of duty free but because they remind me of a memory. Recently I was in Capri, Italy and went to the profound perfume house Carthusia. Immersed by the history behind their fragrances, I came home with one as a gift for my girlfriend and I also now wear Via Camerelle during the day.

I get married tomorrow and one of the last things I organised was finding myself a fragrance I will eternally know as April 10. A couple of weeks ago, one of my bridesmaids asked me if I had a perfume for the day? A perfume that would tie me to the day and if I was to ever wear it again or smell it in the future, then it would bring me back to April 10. I contemplated; do I wear an all-time favourite like AOD’s Lostmarch or find something new? Hunting around and realising too late that I should have carried with me a stash of coffee beans to neutralise my sense of smell each time I tested one, I went from woody to citrus, to sultry to fresh. I smelt classics like Chanel’s Coco and Estee Lauder’s top seller Beautiful. I found the new Balenciaga fragrance to resemble toilet cleaner and I thought Kiehls’ Original Musk was not special enough. I was looking for an instant love affair, a smell that would whoosh me off my feet and immediately envelope me and my senses. I was mostly getting drawn to the floral fragrances but desired one that was not too flowery or an inevitable headache.

In Mecca Cosmetica, I fell in love with Antonia’s Flowers Floret. The shopgirl sprayed my wrist and for the rest of the afternoon I walked around, occasionally taking a sniff and loving the fresh yet playful scent. As the hours wore on, the fragrance lingered and didn’t fade and made me think of fields of fresh flowers and warm spring days. I came home and googled Antonia’s Flowers and read that “Antonia” was so inspired by French flower markets and their translation in art that she opened a florist on New York’s Long Island. Quite soon afterwards she developed fragrances to try and capture the scents she was surrounded by each day. Floret was “inspired by the rambling sweet peas in her grandmother’s gardens, and convinced of the power of the ‘living flower’, Floret was created to recapture the memories of her childhood.” Floret has layers of marigold, rose, apricot, lily of the valley and tuberose.

Floret will now always be my April 10 and as I spray it on my wrist and other pressure points tomorrow, I look forward to discovering the special memories that will be forever attached to it and conjured up when it is sprayed in days to come.

an unspoken universal language; even in Rome

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What are the signs of a top restaurant and I am not just talking about the ones with hats and stars? I’m talking about the restaurants that you walk past that you have never eaten in before but you can sense the electric atmosphere and you can see people are really enjoying their food. These are the restaurants that are packed with people and there’s usually a lot of noise and more often a queue just to get a seat, especially when it’s a cafe and there’s a queue at 9am on a Sunday. Flat White Cafe on Jersey Road Woollahra, Sydney is like this. Or when you walk past a Chinese restaurant and you see that everyone is actually Chinese, that’s usually a good sign too.

I was in Rome last year and my man and I were wandering around aimlessly taking in all of the great sights one sees in the eternal city. We were doing one of those night walks and discovering the city spontaneously without a map. We had eaten near the Spanish Steps, seen the Trevi Fountain at night and had just walked through Piazza Navona when we suddenly found ourselves smack bang in Campo dei Fiori and were immediately met with the hustle and bustle of people having a great night out. There were a couple of buskers creating atmosphere with their live jazz quartet and all of the square’s restaurants had tables right out on to the pavement and people were vying for these seats. Our walk took us down a narrow street where there were mainly clothing stores and up ahead we noticed some bright lights and locals casually standing there excitedly speaking Italian whilst drinking wine and having a smoke. Walking past, we glanced behind the Italians and I instantly had the understanding that this was a top restaurant. I didn’t need to read any good food guide or speak Italian to know that this was a local’s favourite and not a tourist trap that only served bolognese and lasagne. Through their glass window I could see walls of wine, numerous salami rolls hanging from the ceiling and stacks of cheese in a chilled display. It wasn’t packed, but was busy enough and I knew I needed to come back to this place before I left Rome despite feeling incredibly full after my recent dinner.

Two nights later we came back to Roscioli. I discovered that the wall of wine was not just at the front but all through the restaurant on both sides and even lining the stairs down to the private room below. Our table was right near the cheese fridge and I remember looking at all of the different varieties of mozzarella, gorgonzola and pecorino (just to name a few). I watched the chef prepare someone’s meal and hold every piece of buffalo mozzarella like it was a precious gem before carefully cutting it and arranging it delicately on the plate. Our waiter came to us and was instantly amused that we didn’t speak a word of Italian yet managed to brief us on all of the day’s specials and take us knowledgeably through the menu. My man and I decided to create a degustation for ourselves so we could experience and eat as much off the menu in one sitting. By 8pm, Roscioli was packed with other people eating their way through the extensive menu and I could feel a similar electric atmosphere as I would do in A Tavola in Darlinghurst, Sydney or at Cafe Sopra in Waterloo, Sydney. Every plate we ate off was delicious, delectable, mouth-watering and encompassed a million taste sensations. The produce was fresh and of optimum quality and the wines we drank matched the flavours completely.

We left Roscioli that night feeling a sense of complete satisfaction and for many nights after we raved about the restaurant, thinking back to how thin and delicious the carpaccio was and how decadent the chocolate fondant was… I know when I go back to Rome next time that this place is top of my list to return to, just so I can make my way through more of the menu!

Via dei Giubbonari, 21. 00186 Rome

Up The Faraway Tree

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When I think back to what my dreams were made of as a little girl I remember fairies and princesses, pink wands and fairy floss. I remember having a wild imagination and loving Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and wondering what I would see if I fell down a rabbit hole. I remember loving Enid Blyton’s story books, namely the series about The Faraway Tree. I must have read and re-read the stories at least 30 times and never stopped dreaming about what could be… I remember thinking about what I wanted to be when I grew up and I remember doing all of those primary school games and calculations to find out who I was going to marry. Like a lot of little girls, I dreamt of the white wedding and wondered when I would meet my Prince Charming?

7 days out from my wedding day and I am thinking back to when I used to go past this store whilst walking home after school and get a quick glimpse of all of the pretty dresses hanging on the rail inside. This store is Helen Rodrigues, in Neutral Bay, Sydney and my own experience in this store was everything I dreamt of as a little girl. The dresses here are whimsical and princess-like, full skirted and slim-line with bows and lace, ribbons and sequins. I tried on a dress like Carolyn Bessette Kennedy’s (slim and silky) and a dress similar to Kristy Hinze’s (full skirted with lots of detail). Helen has been in this business for over 10 years and with her calm demeanor and exceptional care, I discovered a dress that caters to my dreams today and matches the unique and old-school romance that I share with my man. At Helen Rodrigues, I got to go up the faraway tree and find myself in a place where dreams are allowed to soar and girls can be the little girls they used to be twirling around in front of the mirror.

When in Paris, people watch from here

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Observations of local Parisiens generally amount to descriptions such as stylish, elegant, effortless, artistic, dog-lovers…the list does go on and there are many places to people watch throughout Paris to reach these common conclusions. Watch the romantics in Les Jardin des Tuilleries, watch the thoughtful and pensive as they mull around Rodin’s The Thinker, watch the sun lovers bask on the banks of the Seine, watch the modern day gypsy-like artisans at Montmartre. I discovered one more place to people watch on my last trip to the city of lights and the people I watched here were the locals scurrying or strolling past self-absorbed and oblivious to their own beauty. At the end of the Pont Louis Phillippe bridge – Marais side is a chic French bistro called Chez Julien. It was on recommendation that I came to this place. What I didn’t know at the time was how much I would fall in love with one destination on such a short stay.

Chez Julien is located directly opposite the bridge and its tables spill outside where diners can be watched and in turn watch their surrounds. The waiters who come to serve me sparkling water look like they have just stepped of a Paris catwalk and blend right into this picturesque scene. The tan shoulder bags that they wear across their bodies are not just fashion accessories but a means to hold euros that they collect off satisfied patrons. The food is mouth-watering. The chicken dish I order is filled with terrific yet simple flavours and it epitomises French cooking in one go by showcasing that it does not take a raft of ingredients to make a spectacular meal. I sit here for the rest of the afternoon and digest every detail. The next day, I come back with two hours to spare before flying out, feeling like a local who frequents this bistro daily yet laughing at myself because I am a tourist who should be experiencing something new while I am only here for three days.

When in Paris, people watch from here and eat nothing but copious amounts of divine French goodness.

1 Rue du Pont Louis-Philippe, 75004 Paris, France‎ – 01 42 78 31 64‎

Move over Betty Crocker. Barefoot Contessa has arrived in pink lady style!

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I admit I am a bit of a snob when it comes to packet mix cakes, pancake shakes or any sauces for that matter that come in a jar. Hmmm…sure, they market themselves as easy, two minute, no-fuss jobs but I have always been a fan of making things from scratch. Back in high school I remember I cooked a Betty Crocker chocolate fudge brownie in the microwave and was underwhelmed by the cardboard taste and far too sweet taste.

But it was in Alfresco a couple of months ago when the tide turned and I picked up a blue striped box entitled Barefoot Contessa Coconut Cupcakes. Turning the box over I was confronted with foreign measurements of ingredients like ounces and sticks but nonetheless threw my hat in the ring again to try to make something else again from a box.

So it was last night, after having purchased my extra ingredients of cream cheese, eggs and butter that I set myself to the task. Spurred on by Go Pink for a Day (an initiative at work to raise money for a colleague who was diagnosed with breast cancer last year), the only ingredient I added to the mix not prescribed by Barefoot Contessa was some pink food colouring as my end product needed to get into the spirit of things! The whole process was extremely easy so the packet mix certainly lived up to initial expectations. The mixture came together extremely well with three steps in total and tastes along the way made not only my nose twitch with glee but also my man’s.

As I took my end product into work today; decorated with hot pink icing, shredded coconut flakes and a raspberry jube, my colleagues were amazed and oohed and aahed at all the right moments and my little “pink ladies” raised over $50. The next time I go to Alfresco, I am going to stock up on more striped boxes – it’s the outrageous brownie which is calling me next. And despite this new change in me I am afraid I will continue to be a snob, but only to the likes of Betty Crocker.

A cafe for sweethearts in South Melbourne

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Eggs; how many ways can one cook eggs?

Boiled, poached and fried are the usual ways most cafes serve their eggs. Sure, add hollandaise sauce, toast fingers, bacon, baked beans, BBQ sauce, sauteed mushrooms and maybe a hash brown. But this is all still pretty standard in my opinion. And although most people will probably have their favourite local cafe that they trudge up to on a Saturday or Sunday morning, sunnies firmly fixed over their eyes, snatching the best parts of the cafe’s newspapers to bury their head in, to probably find themselves ordering eggs in some capacity; I say when in Rome, do as Romans do. Or when in Melbourne, do as I do and head to Cafe Sweethearts.

The immediate thought which struck me as I first looked at the menu at Cafe Sweethearts on Coventry Street, South Melbourne was “how extensive is the EGGS menu?” A flipboard style menu introduces you to the many ways that eggs can be served – eggs la mer is my favourite to eat and savour the taste of with the I-must-not-forget-to-tell-you-to-order-the-ROSTI as it is the icing on the cake. As mentioned in a previous post last week in that some ingredients are just meant to be married; Rosti aka fried potato and eggs is a match made in heaven. And I am not just talking about the average hash brown here. But in order to soak up all of the previous night’s sins or to just taste a bit of oily heaven in one’s mouth, it is the outer crunch and soggy middle which gets my tastebuds tingling and just goes perfectly with my choice of poached egg.

Cafe Sweethearts is regularly written up positively in foodie circles so I’m not shouting anything new here but only recalling all of my yummy experiences. You will find when you go to this cafe that it is jam packed and unless you have called ahead and planned prior to have a rosti and egg combo (bookings are available), you may find you need to wait for 15 minutes before taking a seat. The rest of the menu is also mouth-watering and if eggs don’t light your morning fire then their pancakes, muffins and french toast certainly will in addition to the very well made Genovese coffee.

I am a Sydneysider through and through but when I do visit Melbourne which is quite often, namely because of this cafe and often “just because”, no matter if I am racing to the airport or have all the time in the world…a drop in to Cafe Sweethearts is essential.