Tag Archives: Melbourne

eat, drink, weather: predictive

Nothing Like The Sun by Anthony Burgess & Mountain Goat's summer ale

Nothing Like The Sun by Anthony Burgess & Mountain Goat’s summer ale. IN A CAN.

A few weeks ago summer was threatening to come early. Yes, yes, Melbourne weather etc. By forces literary and gustatory combined, the weather, (fun) reading and tinnies hinted that I might actually take a photograph of a ‘life moment in progress’ and post it to a genius Tumblr called Book & Beer but yeah, that didn’t happen: finished the book too quickly (it’s soooo much fun, if you dig that sort of lit) and my drink of choice whilst reading is tea.

The only thing missing might’ve been Caribou’s ‘Sun’ or some dodgy arrangement of sumer is icumen in by tune-deaf primary school kids on a cacophony of recorders… (enter dream sequence and descending whole tone scales à la Puddle Lane)*…back in my day, recorder playing basics were taught fairly early on British primary school. #TOTA starts here…

They didn’t teach us about Dantean circles of hell at my next (Australian, Roman Catholic) primary school, but I suspect that Grade 4 and classroom music thereon (till high school) was an excellent approximation of one of them.

Anyway, will try to get the book and beer smashing documented more, should either happen again in coincidence. Perhaps when Melbourne’s weather regulates, whenever that may be. Thankfully, in Shakespeare’s sonnets, it’s always summer sometime, giving him ample love-loss metaphors to mine. Canker’d blooms, anyone? Would like to see some crazy local not-just-homebrewer try to make that…

#TOTA = tales of the amazing. The speaker-blogger uses this to refer to abysmally dull anecdotes and is suggesting that if you have no interest in music or (the speaker-blogger’s) personal psychogeography, you may indeed omit reading the paragraph appearing directly after employed hashtag.

*from personal experience of the speaker-blogger. 
Individual experiences may vary.
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bright yum things

Tech wrestling, sigh. It can break the smartest of folks. Not unusually, I was feeling pretty stupid about a recent ‘save your damn draft’ cage match on another blogging platform. It left me wanting for merriment and good cheer. That led to thoughts of (DROWN YOUR SORROWS IN) alcohol – specifically, beer – but I didn’t actually do so. Some grown-up characteristic decided to exercise its right to self-care. Bet my endocrine system was rejoicing over that one.

The next best thing seemed to be flipping through copies and reviews of drink-themed zines. This was during International Zine Month (July) where I was busily reading, writing and just admiring anything and everything ‘zine’ (being a non-maker). Oh yeah, didn’t I once write about a few beer and food-obsession/curation zines? Eons ago? Indeed!

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south side sprawl – it’s not pronounced Bolognese

It’s not pronounced Bolognese. My semester of French tells me that much.

Boo-lounge-err-ree? Not sure that’s right either.I should have paid more attention in class, dagnabbit!

However it’s pronounced, Chez Dré patisserie boulangerie is a welcome addition to the South Melbourne lunch scene.

Once up the alley-way, and through the snaking entrance, you are presented with a remarkably large and bright space. A beautiful purpose-built kitchen is on display for diners to peak through at the madness. The brain child pastry chef Andrea Reiss (who like my EDS co-conspirator, Gem, is also a mestizo).  If you feel so inclined, you can view the transformation on Chez Dré’s previous website.

Given this is part of the South Side Sprawl ‘series’ of posts, I was eating during my lunch hour, and again convinced my workmate Daniel to lunch with me. After the required uming and ahing, and consuming of a short black and latte, we selected our dishes. While I didn’t catch the blend used, the coffee was solid.

Daniel, having recently made a Moroccan salad at  home, decided to contrast his with Chez Dre’s offering.

While I didn’t get to taste it, Daniel found it a little unexciting – he was a fan of the chutney, but thought it needed more points of interest to liven it up. It did also look a little messy from the other side of the table.

To continue the midday Moroccan madness!, I went with Moroccan-style baked eggs. I’ve had many a ‘nom-time’ experience with baked eggs at places like Big Dish, and this was no exception. The minted yoghurt provided a nice cut through the acidity of the tomato base. My only minor gripe was the eggs were slightly overdone.

On a previous visit I had the ploughman’s lunch – a hearty affair, with its terrine being the highlight for me.

Despite the fact that I nearly killed a co-worker last time I brought macarons to the office (damned anaphylaxis!), I somehow managed
to saunter out to lunch with petty cash to buy macarons. Apparently macaron lust knows no limits.

Securing two of each of the day’s flavours, they were quickly disseminated to my fellow office dwellers. Unfortunately, I can’t remember all the flavours (marmalade, chocolate, salted caramel…and…and…two others) but I do remember they were all well received. While I don’t necessarily agree with all the hype in the foodie world surrounding macarons, I am a massive sucker for a good one. While I don’t have a great ‘palate’ for the subtleties of macarons, these ticked all the boxes – crisp outer shell, soft but not chewy inner shell, and balanced and flavoursome filling. For me they are on par with the well thought of La Belle Miette.

I do believe I will be back, with my mestizo other-half.

Chez Dré on Urbanspoon

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