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Painting the Bridge

Andrew Christie

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South Coast

The transition from Inner West to Far South

May 9, 2017 by andyadmin Leave a Comment

Hello there.

It’s been a while I know, but a lot has happened. Let me tell you all about it.

Some of you will have gathered that we have moved our base of operations. Having been close to everything for a long time, we thought we would have a try at being far from things. Far, far away from things in fact.

As all places are defined by their proximity to the birthplace of our nation, we have moved from the warm and noisy embrace of the Inner West, all the way to the startlingly beautiful Far South Coast. Here, under the ever-changing gaze of Mother Gulaga (look it up) we will embrace small town life, get to know the sea mammals, and constantly re-fill the bird baths. (Wattle birds obviously know nothing about water conservation.)

It has been a big change for us, but an exciting one.

We have been pondering what this move will mean for the Quest. The Far South Coast is definitely not King Street. Indeed, in our hometown of Bermagui, the real challenge for the Quest would not be to dine at every eatery, but to do them all in one day. Perhaps that can be a challenge we will put to visitors.

Another option we considered was a survey of the bacon-and-egg rolls of the region, but suspect this might not be as interesting for everyone else as it would be for me. (However, if you are down this way and fancy a lovely breakfast roll, check out the Blue Heron Cafe in Moruya. Highly recommended.)

So without having any fancy scaffolding to prop up a new Quest, I suspect that we will just check out the local offerings, as and when the opportunity arises.

So here we go, starting with a classy Italian restaurant called Il Passagio, which I gather means passage but can also mean passing, crossing or transition. All of which are particularly appropriate to our current condition.

We dined at Il Passagio at the end of Easter, on the last official night of our extended house-warming event, which saw us accommodating 15 wayfarers. Friends and family from near and far joined us for a chaotic, but fun-filled few days. By the last Friday of the holiday everyone had gone home except for the Stropolina, so we took the opportunity for a night out. The good thing about living in town is that, like Camperdown, it is easy to walk anywhere you might want to go. In this case it was across town to the Fisherman’s Wharf, where we stopped first at the Horse and Camel Wine Bar to get ourselves in the mood. After a momentary confusion during which we found ourselves perusing the ‘expensive wines list’ we were directed to the row of bottles on the bar, which were better suited to our modest whistle-wetting needs. We enjoyed their Rosé and Shiraz, but the Stropolina seems to have taken against Temperanillo, claiming it tastes like compost. Sometimes I despair of the young people.

It is interesting in getting to know a new town, to see who drinks where. We noted that the demographic supporting the wine bar seemed distinct from the one at the pub. Even though the wine bar is located at the Fisherman’s Wharf, most of the clientele didn’t look like they had much to do with fish until it was lined up beside a pile of chips.

Our fun evening was somewhat tempered by a sobering phone call from my father’s doctor. Another round of drinks was required to buffer this reminder that even cutting edge therapies have their limits. So we drank to Dad. And Mum, and all the others who have reached their limits over recent years.

Then we moved next door and proceeded to test the limits of our belts. Italian food will do that.

Wapengo oysters to start. These creamy little puddles of seaside essence were hastily slurped out of their shells. Next was an excellent potato, rosemary and anchovy pizza. It was simple and crisp, with clean strong flavours. After the pizza we decided to take a run at all the pastas. The purity of our ambition was somewhat tempered at the last minute when Strop decided we needed to tick the vegetable box too. So she threw a salad into the mix.

My gnocchi was a knock out, and the prawn linguini and spaghetti hardly got a chance to cool down. The salad featured apple, pancetta and a soft cheese I had never heard of called burrata, and it didn’t last long either.

For dessert I went with the specials board: orange and thyme ice cream. And yes, it was as good as it sounds. Stropolina opted for the old favourite, Tiramisu while Strop went for something with meringue and marscaponi – washed down with a glass of Limincello. By this time I was worried about the tightness of my belt, and conscious that the walk home was up hill, so I abstained.

It was a lovely evening and a fitting first outing on the Bermie leg of this blog.

In doing what we laughingly call research here, I discovered on the Il Passagio website, that they are advertising the restaurant for sale. It seems such a pity, but it is a very familiar situation given our experience with the restaurant churn on King Street. We will just have to use it as an excuse to go back again as soon as possible.

If any of you are wondering where the next John Lawrence book is up to, never fear, I haven’t left him in a shallow grave beside the Princes Highway. The manuscript for book 3 is here in a pile beside me, waiting for a decision on whether it requires the merciful attentions of a scalpel or an axe. Or possibly a garden fork.

So as the wood smoke mingles with the salt spray, and the cat yowls to be fed, it is time to say farewell from the far, far south coast. Until next time.

Filed Under: Bermie Tagged With: Bermagui, Far South Coast, Italian, pasta, pizza, South Coast

273 Bangkok Bites – fast and furious Thai for the movies

August 23, 2015 by Andrew Christie 5 Comments

bangkok bites

Well, that didn’t take long.

This is our first go at repainting the bridge and it’s a great chance to check out the changing face of King Street. We haven’t been idle during our short hiatus. We made a pilgrimage back to where it all started at Number 6 where we had lovely quiet meal at Izote. We’ve also checked out Luyu &Yum Yum, which definitely deserves further investigation and a post of its own – if only for the chance to have another of their wonderful whisky sours. Excursions up and down the coast have revealed quite a few culinary highlights including Vietnamese at Newcastle with Camilla and Tim, burgers and retro rock at Catherine Hill Bay pub, home cooked chicken-in-milk courtesy of Peter and Zena down in the banjo picking hills of Cobargo, and a Quarterdeck breakfast on the inlet at Narooma with Lisa and Greg. So much food, so little time. Oh well, we can only eat what is put in front of us, I suppose.

You know you're on the south coast when...
You know you’re on the south coast when…

Bangkok Bites is a relative newcomer to the King Street midlands, replacing the unlamented Simply Noodles. Whereas its predecessor was for a long time, grey and empty, Bangkok Bites is all colour and movement with plenty of saliva inducing smells coming from the kitchen. The decor and the set up is reminiscent of the original Chat Thai, although there aren’t people queueing outside to get in. Not yet anyway. The new restaurant is located in a prime position, close to the cinema and promotes itself as bringing a taste of Bangkok street food to King Street. They certainly have the staff to provide quick turnarounds. Strop counted six in the kitchen and four on the floor. Vroom.

As we were shown to our seats, it was clear that they had squeezed as many tables as possible into the space available – I had to step into the very busy corridor to remove my jacket, holding up the progress of three waitresses. As one poured us glasses of water she told us that the establishment is cash only and BYO. Important to establish the ground rules up front. Luckily we had come prepared with folding stuff fresh from the ATM and a nice little bottle of pinot grigio. The other clientele were all couples of various denominations, presumably lots of date nights going on. It’s not really the place for big group tables, Thai Pothong has that scene pretty much sown up anyway. The colour scheme features lots of red and yellow, with occasional bursts of flames from the kitchen.

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The menu is a comprehensive full-colour large-format booklet, full of graphic stylings that match the graffiti mural along the main wall of the restaurant. I went straight to number 37 which turned out to be a noodle dish, oddly called Buddy Bites Noodles. I didn’t read any further, I was just glad not to have to count my way through the menu. Strop fancied Kung Fu Fritters because she is a sucker for corn fritters as should be clear by now. We also continued our duck salad tradition.

The young couple at the table next to us were drinking coke in fake jam jars (handles? can we please end this madness), and having a deep and meaningful discussion about Game of Thrones, how the women have the best storylines (hmm possibly… except for the short guy), and how someone was “not long for this world,” however it was unclear just which world they were referring to. That’s how close the tables are.

Our food arrived quickly and the servings were large. Very large. Number 37 was first, piled high with noodles and dotted with slices of chicken and beef (oh, so that’s the buddy reference, I should have read the fine print). The flavours were clean and fresh but a bit sweet for me – maybe due to the chilli jam marinade used on the chicken. The duck salad was daunting too, basically a roast duck breast, sliced thickly and laid out on a bed of lettuce. On further investigations there were lots of salad bits and dressing hidden under the duck. And it tasted great, just a slightly deconstructed take on salad. Plenty of luscious duck, looking as if it was still waiting for a formal introduction to the onion and coriander. The fritters were tasty and crunchy, and came with big wedges of fried tofu. I ate them because they were crunchy but I still don’t see the point of tofu.

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Bangkok Bites is a hectic and tasty experience. The staff are efficient and attentive despite occasionally sprinting from one end of the restaurant to the other. It’s a great place for a pre or post movie meal, and I’m sure it will give the Italian Bowl a run for its money.

We enjoyed the food, but were defeated by its sheer volume, and had to request a takeaway container to take the excess home. I’m looking forward to those leftovers.

Our journey home was slightly delayed when Strop was taken by the window display next door at Hum. She was taking photos of The Killing DVD box set because she wanted to copy the knitting pattern. Very Strop.

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Filed Under: reQuest Tagged With: Duck, Newcastle, Number 37, South Coast, Thai, tofu

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