Most romantic weekend ever.
Oh wait. We’re not there yet.
A stopover was needed for stretching of legs and general refreshment. I was trying to be the best girlie girl I could be just for this particular weekend. Alas, this did mean that Tris drove to and from our exciting romantic destination.
Anyway, our stopover: a charming little place called Eclectic Tastes in Ballarat, near Lake Wendouree. If you’re wondering why no smile on my dial, it’s because I was cold and determined. But more cold. It was freaking freezing that day and I was chilled to the bone merely from hopping out of the car to the cafe’s door!
It was that dead time when you can’t always be certain when you get to an eatery that you’ll get food because the kitchen might be closed, or it’s too close to closing time and indeed we did arrive here at that very time: no main menu for us.
Fortunately, there were still counter snacks and definitely the usual array of hot and cold drinks. Tris and I shared a selection of things though each got a Portuguese custard tart…
…and divvied up a slice of quince tart and a savoury muffin with pine nuts, spinach and fetta.
Served hot with melty butter, Tris, the savoury muffin sceptic (gasp!) was a convert.
The place’s true eclecticism is really reflected in its décor. Littering the walls and cabinets, you can see a myriad of trinkets, old record covers, adorned chairs and tables. Our tablecloth was blue and white gingham which then had a horse complete with brown mane and hooves cross stitched onto it! I was indie-girl (read: predictable) giddy with glee.
And people say they don’t use Urbanspoon anymore – us two tragics still do. I picked this place because it sounded okay and seemed to have a high rating from a sizeable proportion of people. It pays to take a chance sometime. I’ll be back to sample their menu proper when next I visit my favourite lit nerd girlfriend who works as a curator at nearby Sovereign Hill, I’m sure of it.
But, as David Tennant’s Doctor would say, allons-y! Fortified for the moment, it was time to leave the warmth of the lovely cafe and its staff and hit the road again, all the while blasting some of my more tragic DJ podcasts given radio stations were slim pickings once properly en route to our destination.