Food

The American-Australian Debate


I’m an American expat and have been living in Brisbane, Australia for exactly 1 year and 10 months (in two days). Acquaintances of both nationalities often ask me what the other is really like. Are we really all so different?

What’s interesting is that many Australians, like many other societies, have an idealistic vision of certain aspects of America influenced by pop culture. Going to Disney World, New York City, and Vegas are top priority destinations on a bucket list for many. For some equally naive Americans, Australia is depicted as a laid back, blond-haired surf community who put shrimp on the barbie and have pet kangaroos.

So here are 6 observations – and I must preface “in my opinion” – between Australian and American ways of life.

There will be people, places and ideas that of course don’t apply to everyone, and everything. I’m in no way insinuating that they do. You could argue that I could include facts about dueling healthcare systems, poverty lines and unemployment rates, but I’m not going to go there. There are also many topics like food, drinking cultures, and television. This is just a small aspect of current reflections of my time on both continents.

1. Societal pressure

This is my ultimate number one; a topic I engage in conversations regularly. As an American growing up on the East Coast there is a simple formula to success. You go to school and get good test scores. You choose a university and the more prestigious the name, the better. While enrolled in university you partake in extra curricular activities, clubs and begin undergoing internships as soon as possible. You graduate in 4 years, no more. After graduation due to your collegiate success you have a job lined up and gradually work your way up the corporate ladder. There is no gap year; there is no break to sit back and think about your future. At 18 before you even leave high school you sign up for the rest of your life.

Furthermore, your career becomes your status. Blue collar jobs are frowned upon and success is measured by you and your significant other’s occupation.

I find that the societal pressure I speak of above is drastically less significant here in Australia. A university degree is important, but not essential to obtaining a career. And I use the term career loosely. Less significant is what job you have, but better the fact that you have a job. Blue-collar jobs, mineworkers, plumbers, construction workers, what they term as “tradies” are highly regarded, because they require skill and get paid big bucks. There is no shame in saying your significant other is an admin assistant or carpenter.

With that, keeping a long-standing career in one area isn’t as essential. Most young people go traveling between graduating high school and going to university, if they even do. In fact, its called a “gap year” and encouraged. Many people work for an amount of time to save their money and then go traveling…in their 20s AND 30s. But what about your job when you get back, saving for a house, babies? The priority tends to be more about enjoying your life and spending the time and money you do have on experiencing it.

Of course, there is the current economic state and unemployment rate in the US compared to the high economic success Australia is having at the moment (ahum mining) that one could argue are attributing to both of these factors and cannot be ignored. However if you removed them from the equation I still feel strongly that it’s an underlying mentality of each culture more then anything else.

2. Cost of living

In Australia, it is astronomical. Again, the economy…I get it. Australians get paid more and therefore things cost more. New York is expensive but in comparison to everyday Australia, it’s a bargain.

Here are a few examples of Brisbane and New York price comparisons:

Piece of Pizza: AU $7; US $2.50

Bus Ticket: AU $4.80; US $2.50

6 Pack of Beer: AU$ 16; US $8

Pair of Nike sneakers: AU $240; US $180

Gatorade: AU$4.80; US $2.50

Another example is retirement packages. In the US, your employer may provide you with a 401K package, in which you contribute a certain percent (typically a 3% minimum) of your salary in which your employer contributes another 3%. In Australia, your employer legally has to pay you Superannuation of 12% on top of your salary, and you can contribute to it as you like. Not a bad deal.

3. Airline etiquette

One advantage of being a country that has no majors concerns about national security means that your airport traffic and regulations can be a whole lot more lax. Let’s compare the two experiences.

If I were to have an 8 o’clock domestic flight, I would depart Brisbane Airport at 7:40. I would therefore likely arrive at the airport before my flight at 7:20 or so. Yes, 20 minutes before boarding is plenty of time. Upon entering the destinations lounge I would approach one of the 30 or so Qantas kiosks scattered around the area to check in. To do so I’d simply search by my last name, then first name, and finally select my destination from a list in order for my boarding pass to print. While I’m at it, I would also print my baggage tag and then check my own bag without the assistance of anyone needed, but the friendly service attendants make themselves available just in case.

Once approaching security, at worst will take more then 5 minutes, I put my bags through the scanner. The only thing I need to take out is my laptop or any sort of aerosols. Shoes stay on, sweatshirt stays on, water stays put and get this, and so does my ID the entire time! I’m through, whew, although I will add that I always get picked for that darn bomb detector swifter.

There’s also something strange about the plane etiquette. It’s an unspoken signal. Just as its time to board, without an announcement needed everyone just files into line to board the plane. Sometimes they announce to board by row, buts its unnecessary as everyone takes into an orderly fashion. There are some passengers with carry-on items but not everyone carrying everything they own on earth.

Qantas domestic provides one bag complimentary checked, complimentary meals or snacks on every flight, and free booze during evenings. Sometimes I even get inflight entertainment – like movies on my own personal screen. Just saying. I’ve never seen anyone get bumped for an oversold flight or asked to give-up his or her seat.

The flipside. Where to start. Smelly home-made food, old-school planes, madness, no overhead room for luggage, chaos at security.  My god.

Most US airlines oversell their seats. That means that if you don’t select your seat when your purchase your ticket (usually at a cost if you’re not a member of their loyalty program with a certain status) there is a chance that when you arrive at the airport to check in you may not have a seat on your purchased flight. Notice boards are now customary in many airport lounges with a long stand by list. A plus, if you’re in no rush you can usually give up your seat for a voucher for a free future flight and get on the next plane.

Because luxuries like complimentary meals, even measly food like the classic bag of peanuts, no longer exist, that means that people have begun the disgusting habit of bringing left overs from home or in take out containers from the airport food court. There is nothing like sitting in a vacuum-sealed compartment with the pungent smell of hundreds of passengers’ leftovers wafting in the air.

And one final point, as plane upgrades seem like a thing of the past and flying aviation from 20 years ago is trending, airlines have tacked on costs for checked baggage. Yes, this exists here in Australia too for airlines aside from Qantas. But, for some reason I find that American passengers have decided it’s just not worth the cost to check a bag, and therefore try and beat the system by bringing on board everything they possibly own. If you’re unfortunate to board the plane last you won’t even have room to tuck away your handbag.

4. Shortening of words

Is it shortening of words, or just slang? I think a bit of both. Some say it derives from the criminals who founded this darn continent (geez lets just forget about the indigenous people), regardless, picking up new fashion slang and slicing every multi syllable word in half is right up my ally.

Ranga – someone with red hair (short for orangutan)

Tradie – someone who works a trade job

Arvo – Afternoon

Bicky – Biscuit aka cookie

Cuppa – Cup of coffee or tea

Barbie – BBQ

Togs, Swimmers – Bathing Suit

Snags – Sausages

Singlet – Tank top

Sunnies – Sunglasses

Bottle O’ – Liquor Store

Servo – Service Station/Gas Station

Mate – Friend

5. Sitting in the front of cabs

So one of the best things about New York City is the cabs. You can get across town, uptown to downtown etc. for under a $20 cab fair. While your at it, yapping away to your friends passing street vendors, bodegas, and various bars, although it can be annoying at times, you have a TV sharing with you the latest weather, pop culture, and news. Don’t like it, simply turn it off. But sometimes it’s a nice distraction to pass the time. Rarely do you sit in the front of a cab, and that’s only when you’re exactly 4 people.

In Brisbane at least, a cab from the trendy “going out” area of The Valley to my apartment a 15-minute walk away cost $12. Public transport is outrageous, hard to come by without dialing a number, and the fairs increase the later it gets.

The expectation is that if you’re a solo passenger you sit in the front. It can be an exhausting experience. Sometimes I don’t want to make conversation and so I’ll say my brief hello, provide my destination then stare aimlessly out the window or watch the expensive meter tick by. Other times call for being a chatterbox and time passes quickly with friendly attentiveness from my chauffeur.

I’m aware this isn’t a comparison on America as it is more on NYC versus Brisbane but for someone making the transition, sitting in the front one on one with the driver can be intense.

6. Service and options

But none of the above comparisons can go without mentioning the luxuries that America has that Australia, or at least Brisbane can’t compare by an inch. It’s what makes America, well, America and so many other nations and cities envious. America has options, and a lot of them.

In Brisbane shops close at 5 or 6, there is no mid-week shopping – except one day a week allocated for “late night shopping”. What!?!? Not only in NYC, but also even in suburbia shops are open until at least 9. And there are options, so many options. There are cheap clothing stores with cheap clothes for cheap prices and cheap stores with decent clothes for cheap prices and expensive stores with cheap clothes and expensive stores with expensive quality.

When it comes to food you can’t even compare. 24 hour options, fast food, gourmet foods, trendy restaurants, hot dogs, pizza, donuts, cheesesteaks, hoagies, beer. Yum yum yum yum.

Minimum wage in the States is appalling. Many service works don’t receive incentive packages like healthcare and live solely by tips. With that, you expect attentive service and if you don’t get it many know the restaurant’s reputation and their tip will reflect. For me, 20% was standard. What’s great about tipping is you can incentive better service. What’s not great is you can spend a lot more then the cost of the meal shelving out those incentives. Because more customers mean more money, it’s not customary to take a table for a full evening. It’s in and out.

In Australia, many service workers make around $20 an hour. Tipping is only done if service is extraordinary and you want to thank a server for going above and beyond. Tipping is very rare. Although the food prices are higher, the atmosphere can be a bit more relaxed and you can take your time with your meal. That also means though that the servers have no incentive to provide exemplary service and at times this can be very frustrating.

I leave Australia again this week to head for America for a quick trip. What I’ve noticed has become a bit of a pattern is that for my first few days in the States I’m constantly making comparisons in my head to my life here in Brisbane. I’m grateful for the laid-back lifestyle and simplicity of things here. By the end of my trip after enjoying the luxuries of a fast paced lifestyle back in New York indulging in all its luxuries the tables turn.  Oh the woes of living abroad.

Ethiopian Cuisine

Ethiopian Cuisine of Delights


If Ethiopia is one of the oldest locations of human existence known to scientists, then their food better be damn good.

I’ve been to the far north of Africa in Tangier, Morocco and to the very farthest tip of South Africa. But as of yet have missed out on all in between, including the eastern horn of Ethiopia. When friends were dining out for an authentic Ethiopian experience here in Brisbane, how could I not invite myself along?

Driving to Made in Africa Ethiopian Café and Restaurant in Moorooka, I was completely oblivious as to what to expect. While driving from Brisbane city center I was told that Moorooka was a suburb undergoing gentrification. I inquired about what they deemed to be a community with a need for such redevelopments. I could only scoff at the thought, despite high immigrant populations from the Middle East and Africa.

From my observation, Brisbane has a less culturally diverse population then other cities. Therefore gentrification is a concept I didn’t think existed here. I thought back to the organic-loving Jewish guy from Oregon I dated who lived in Bed-Stuy, Brooklyn – also Jay-Z’s original hood. I was the only Caucasian person on the A train; let alone I needed to be escorted from the subway, and not because I’m dainty. He was the only white boy on the block with big dreams of opening a coffee shop at the cusp of the neighborhood reinventing itself, and he succeeded. Don’t talk to me about gentrification.

We found the small café-restaurant in a shopping center catering to other African restaurants, shoe shops and hair salons.  My handsome and endearing friend walked his tall walk and claimed our reservation for 6 people upon entering. Aside from a table of three Sudanese regulars, we were the only customers on this Friday night. Reservations are recommended but not always necessary.

The place is no frills. A few cheap tables with plastic chairs, cheesy African decor, a painting of a topless black women on the wall, a map of Africa next to it, and some other trinkets tucked away in corners. Many of the mementos as well as spices and coffees are for sale through the sister company http://www.madeinafrica.com.au.

The menu, as thick as a wallet, gave the impression it was filled with pages upon pages of options. In reality it was one menu front and back; breakfast, lunch and dinner on one side, drinks on the other. The rest was filled with clear pages as a facade.  The good news was options were limited and it was very cheap. We’ll have the lot!

The lovely host of an owner came to take our order, and we inquired about the handcrafted baskets nestled in the corners. We told him we wanted a traditional feast, and so he prepared a flat silver tray with the best on offer.

Ethiopian Cuisine

Ethiopian Cuisine of delights

Sitting on top of injera (Ethiopian flat bread), was a beautiful spread of Alicha Wot (mild beef stew sauted in onion and turetic), Tibes Wot (diced lamb sautéed in herbed butter sauce and seasoned with onion, green pepper, rosemary), Keye Wot (beef simmered in a red pepper sauce with garlic and cardamom), Doro Wot (chicken stew in red hot pepper sauce with hard boiled eggs), Gomen Wot (collard greens boiled with garlic and onions), Shiro Wot (split pea stew made from roasted and ground split peas), Yatakilt Wot (vegetables in rich fresh green cabbage, carrot, potato, green pepper and onions, sauted in garlic and ginger) and Lentils Stew (lentils with cardamom and onion). The plate was enormous and we each used just our hands to dip the injera into the various thick stews.

The website, keeping to traditions states, “Normally you break a piece of Injera and roll it in the Wat and put it in your own mouth, but sometimes you may tear a piece off, roll it in the Wat and place it in you friends mouth!”

Gebena

Gebena (coffee)

We didn’t feed each other, however ended the night after a few St. Georges beers with a traditional coffee pot (gebena) of the most aromatic coffee I’ve yet to taste.

St. Georges Beer

St. Georges

The experience left me filled to the max, with an appreciation for a cuisine I’ve never thought to try. All for a very cheap price might I add.  We didn’t know, and therefore missed out on the hand washing and coffee ceremonies that are also options, but at least we have something to look forward to next time.

I expected the injera (bread) to be sour, but it was delicious. We weren’t sure if they could cater for our gluten free friend, but they did with rice. And I looked over to my friend who also has a bit of hard time getting down the spicy options and I challenged him to challenge his spice as I do. A little practice in time creates a new appreciation.

And we ate it all!

And we ate it all!

Degustation Sensation


Microsoft’s Encarta Dictionary is not familiar with the word degustation, degust or degusting. The dictionary must not be a foodie.

All those contributors to Wikipedia know it though. “Degustation is a culinary term meaning a careful, appreciative tasting of various foods and focusing on the gustatory system, the senses, high culinary art and good company. Dégustation is more likely to involve sampling small portions of all of a chef’s signature dishes in one sitting. Usually consisting of eight or more courses, it may be accompanied by a matching wine degustation which complements each dish.”

And there you have it, the art of degusting. It’s not disgusting at all. It’s delicious.

For my recent birthday I put a message up asking who would be willing to fork over $150 for a degustation wine pairing at a place high on my list of atmospheric dining experiences, Anise, however only one person replied so I opted for the much more sensible Himalayan Café instead.

Luckily, this week was the James Street Food and Lifestyle Trail, a culinary adventure of the delights from the best of what trendy James Street has to offer with pop up restaurants, food and wine pairings, and cultural events. I could only choose one, so Wednesday evening it was off to recently opened Gerrard’s Bistro (where I last tried sheep brains) for their Special Degustation Menu with Ben Williamson, head chef – and a mighty good looking one might I add.

Reservations were required for this art deco restaurant turned food frenzy. Arriving before the 7 pm start, tables were set neatly with cutlery, various wine glasses sized for pour and the evening’s menu set out in the middle. Our group of four was sat in front, a perfect location to listen to chef Ben Williamson explain each course in fine detail following the Red + White wine rep depicting the evenings pairing.

I took out my little green moleskin notebook to begin jotting notes, assuming to go unnoticed, but then was caught red-handed. Yup, I’m a note taker – just in case I feel compelled to write home about it.

Course 1 – Cuttlefish crostini with jamon Serrano, melon Biancavigna ‘Brut’ DOC NV Prosecco, Veneto, Italy

Rumor has it that Prosecco is actually outselling Champagne these days due to popular demand. The pouring was generous and they even came around to top us off! The melon on the jamon was a refreshing touch of sweet summer on the salty dry meat.

Course 2 – Yellow-tail tuna, apple and spring aromatics La Raia, Cortese, Gavi, Italy

The Cortese was nearly my favorite wine of the night. An almond, buttery undertone with a touch of apple at the finish. It perfectly complimented the apple accompanying the “caught that day” raw tuna.

Course 3 – Coal grilled quail, roasted beet, hazelnuts, baby leaves, spice Louis Jadot ‘Cotes de Nuits Villages’ Pinot Noir, Burgundy, France

I’m a sucker for a good Pinot Noir. When my friend mentioned that she doesn’t do foreign wines, I explained that this was the reason I love a good Pinot. Also, another reason why I shouldn’t buy cheap Pinot. The bite size quail though was tender and salty but the beetroot and hazelnuts was a good balance.

Course 4 – Saltbush lamb ‘tagine’, dates, orange, candied olive, ‘shirin polow’- jewelled rice Marchesi Mazzei ‘Zisola’ Nero d’Avola, Sicily, Italy

My first try of the Zisola was that it was too sweet and my immediate inclination was to dismiss it, but after a few swirls and sips I really opened up to it. The lamb tagine was to die for, melt in your mouth, succulent tastes of joy. Really, this was by far the best dish on the menu.

Course 5 – Rose marshmallow, sheep’s yoghurt sorbet, pomegranate, strawberry leather, spiced rosé
Domaine Ott ‘Les Domainiers’, Grenache/Cinsault, Provence, France

When my wine was poured pink I almost didn’t even give it a try. Rose, no way. But the guys at Red + White are good. Although I was indifferent to the dessert, yes the sheep’s yogurt sorbet was sweet and who doesn’t like a good marshmallow, I could have done without. More memorable was how approachable the Rose actually was. Very mild, not overly sugary and I just say, I would drink it on a warm summer day.

Nearing 11 pm this degustation has gone on for hours. Would you be surprised if I mentioned that by the end the whole room was buzzing from the euphoric atmosphere and lavish wine pours? So much so that instead of complimenting the chef on the amazing meal I was tempted to thank them for stocking my favorite Japanese soap, Aesop, which is always a pleasant surprise to find in a restaurant bathroom.

Unfortunate that I could only afford one event on the James Street Food and Lifestyle Trail but I look forward to future events.

Where the beer flows like wine: Margaret River


Take a big whiff. Stick your nose in the glass, hold it by your fingertips and inhale slowly. Using your wrist, twirl the glass around in circles. Take another whiff. Smell different?

Ah, the art of wine tasting. Yes, the likes of France, Italy, California, and Chile all have their appeal but to Australians why would they bother trying such foreign wines when some of the best of the best is in their very own backyard.

I’m lucky that in my short time here (a year and a half already, sheesh) I’ve sampled some fine Shiraz in the Barossa Valley, Semillon in the Hunter Valley, Chardonnays and Pinot Noirs in the Yarra Valley and finally, the Cabernet’s and Sauvignon Blanc’s of Margaret River – with a few others in between of course. It almost seems like no matter where you are in Australia, you’re bound to stumble upon some damn fine wine.

Lucky for me just 3.5 hours drive south of Perth, Western Australia resides the small wine region of Margaret River. A friend from Brisbane was also in Perth the same weekend so it was a no brainer to rent a car for a full fledge road trip to indulge in another yet to be undertaken wine region.

As with everything I’d experienced outside of the city of Perth in WA, the landscape traveling south was barren. Flat farmland stretched for miles with mom and pop service stations scant. Running out of petrol (aka gas) was not an option. Music pumped, windows down with the sun setting over striking vineyards we approached the endearing town of Margaret River.

Interestingly enough, Margaret River is the name of the region, river, and town. And a beautiful region that is, with hiking trails, beautiful beaches and world renowned surf breaks, endless vineyards and more or less one main drag in the center of it all, Bussell Highway. This small and quiet town is consistently invaded by pinky finger sipping tourists and grape picking backpackers. And at the heart of it after a full day of exploring is the main pub in town, Settlers Tavern, as they quote “the kind of pub every wine region should have”.

Lucky for us arriving at about 7:30 pm on a Saturday, coinciding with the AFL (Australia Football League) Grand Final with the Sydney Swans taking the reins, it was off to the Settlers Tavern for some good old fashion pub grub and a taste of some local beer, specifically the quite mild yet delicious Margaret River Pale Ale on tap. The townies were a bit too celebratory so it was back to the hostel where I befriended Hazel from Wales, the boys from northern England who coined me “Alabama” because they couldn’t remember where in America I was from (a first) and a few other locals before eventually making my way back to where all things end, the Settlers Tavern again just a few hours later to rock out to Zarm, a fantastic live Rastafarian band who were as good as Bob Marley himself.

After a very late night it was an early rise to meet Bushtucker Wine Tours to indulge in what we came here for, to taste the fabulous wines of Margaret River. A small group of about 15, it was nice to actually join a tour that was in the vicinity to where we were staying, as opposed to on my excursions having to travel outside of a city, into the country etc. Getting back without having to pee is always a struggle, but thank goodness for Margaret River’s locality, wooh.

Stop 1: Adifern Winery

We approached our first vineyard at about 11 am. I found the tasting very rushed and detached. Being that it was a holiday weekend (strangely it was the Queen’s birthday but not really they just moved it to this Monday randomly) it was quite busy in the area and I felt we were hurried in and out. With that, none of the wines particularly stood out for me, although others on the tour disagreed, so I had my samples and moved on. The property however was beautiful, with bright flowers, endless fields of vines and farm animals roaming.

Before traveling on our guide did something that made me very unhappy at the time. She asked everyone to get on the bus and to sit next to someone they don’t know, introduce yourself, and have a chat until we got to the next place. I was not interested in playing this game one bit, so I sat in the row with the single seat hoping it would save me while I heard my friend Louise chiming away a few rows behind me. In the end I spoke to my neighbor Caitlin, who coincidentally is also from Brisbane and was traveling by herself. Darnist thing, now she’s our friend and we’re organizing dinner parties and making introductions to our groups of friends back in town.

Stop 2: Brookwood Estate

We started the tasting with a sweet yet soft sip of the bubbles. Hmmm, yes I can dig this. Normally I don’t purchase the bubbles but with summer nearly here I envisioned myself sitting in the local park with a glass of these bubbles soaking up the rays with some friends and so I forked over the $30 for a bottle to live out my new fantasy. I was also a strong fan of the Shiraz Cabernet 2010 but at the time only wanted to commit to one, so the bubbles it was.

Unfortunately however I found the staff very rude. While trying to decide, Shiraz/Cab verses bubbles, shiraz/cab verses bubbles, shiraz/cab verses bubbles I was hoping to gain a bit more information about the wines, as I also was purchasing a SSB (Semillon Sauvignon Blanc) for the colleague who’s house I stayed at the week prior, and just found this one staff member’s demeanor downright snooty and unappreciative of my business. In the end I still bought the wines, because they were mighty tasty, however I strongly feel it can’t go unsaid.

But then it was lunch time, wahoo! Sitting out on the veranda looking out over the vineyard I sipped the purchased glass of the aforementioned Shiraz/Cabernet Sauvignon 2010 since it wasn’t coming home with me and indulged in delights such as smoked crocodile, fresh pumpkin bread, and locally crafted chutneys and spreads. It was a bit unique offering of cold tapas but in the end was very satisfying and a great intense mixture of flavors.

Then the fun really began. Our guide offered up the witchetty grub to the group. Say what? Yes, it’s a bug or technically moth larvae and is a traditional provision for Aboriginals. The first person who raised their hand got to choose the head or the tail since it was going to be consumed after being cut in half. Immediately Louise’s hand jumped up, and we looked around the table and realized she was the only one who volunteered to eat the thing. The seconds ticked by as I contemplated if I should take one for the team with my friend, but then just before I braved it another girl in the group jumped in and ate the bit with the head. When asked what it tasted like Louise told us “it’s crunchy but soft inside, tastes like a macadamia nut.” I guess I’ll never know.

Stop 3: Tassell Park

In terms of atmosphere and fun this winery took the cake. It might have been because we’ve already sampled two other wineries, had lunch and therefore I’ve shaken my hangover and sour mood but the overall reason was the hostess. She was fun, educational and gave everyone a laugh and a smile. We tried everything from the lower range all the way to the private bin labels. And although in the balmy weather we ended the tasting with a zesty sampling of mulled wine, I walked out of there with a packet so get ready for a Christmas special recipe!

Stop 4: Cowaramup Brewing Company

Yay, beer break. Cowaramup is another town just a few kilometers outside of Margaret River off of Bussell Highway. If you can’t remember the name, just call it cowabunga like I did. For $14.50 you can get a taster of all the beers on tap, which of course is what we did, and then enjoyed the sun in the green pasture out back where we chatted to some other people on the tour who live in a remote area of Western Australia up near Broome. Nowhere zone.  I could have sat there for hours, taking in the rays, sipping deliciousness from light to dark, enjoying life. But then we had to move on.

Stop 5: Margaret River Dairy Company

I LOVE cheese! Cheese, cheese, cheese. This cute little dairy complex had a just enough room to squeeze us in, sample a few, and my golly the feta and brie were fabulous, make a purchase and head out the door. While Louise scored us some deliciousness to divulge later, I wandered around the property snapping photos. It was a quick stop off, and then we were on our way.

Stop 6: Margaret River Chocolate Factory

Whew, this is a lot of stuff isn’t it? I wasn’t event tempted by the chocolate at this stage. Well, that’s not true, this was probably the busiest place we ventured to all day, as all tours stop here. The chocolate warehouse was huge and had chocolates in all shapes, sizes, flavors etc. There was popcorn and ice-cream and it was a bit like heaven I would imagine. I just found my way to the free samples, which is very generous because you can scoop out the serves yourself, and then was ready to move on to the final stop off.

Stop 7: Thompson Estate

The owner of this last winery, a cardiologist, spoke to us all about the family business. I sipped, and swirled and chatted away as I realized this was my last chance to make a purchase. Their wines consisted of the Thompson Estate Range and the Locum Range, which is the cheaper of two. Interestingly enough, at times I enjoyed the Locum Range better than the more expensive so I walked out of there with a crisp bottle of 2011 Chardonnay, a new variety favorite of mine, to compliment the cheeses we just purchased for an afternoon snack.

We returned to Margaret River Backpackers around 5 and as the weather was fantastic that day we found all of our new friends from the previous evening hanging out back on the porch. Louise and I glowing from our wine tasting saddled up to the table to savor the cheese and wine and tell stories from the day. We found our way back to Settler’s Tavern that evening for dinner and then mingled the night away.

On the drive back to Perth the next morning we took our time on Bussell Highway, having breakfast in “cowabunga” where cow statues line the road before stopping off in Busselton to walk the longest jetty in the southern hemisphere. Families were fishing off the jetty enjoying the Monday holiday in the sun. As we casually made our way closer to the city we realized we made the unforgiving mistake when the gas light ticked on and we needed to find a servo (gas station) fast. Luckily we did, but the stress got tenser as the clocked ticked on, the traffic backed up, and my flight back to Brisbane inched closer and closer. Luckily for me, Louise’s skilled driving dropped me at the Perth Airport a mere 10 minutes before the flight departed, some charming skills convinced the ticket agents to print a boarding pass even though the flight was closed and I rushed through the gates after getting picked on for the bomb swat test, every time! And only to find the flight delayed an hour. Whew. I swear though, walking the longest jetty in the southern hemisphere, 1.8 kilometers across Geographe Bay, sure was worth it.

Hoi An, Vietnam


I like to say that Hoi An, a city on the south central coast of Vietnam, is a place where all things are made. Ceramics, robes of fine silk, and tailor shops up to whazoo that custom make suits, dresses and shoes to fit any shape and size.

Outside of this picturesque city is the major port of Da Nang, home of Da Nang International Airport, as well as the endless white sand and tropical waters of China Beach and the cluster of Marble Mountains; each their own worth a visit. However, cutesy Hoi An is a destination to seek out.

As a major trading port for Southeast Asia in the 18th century, Hoi An’s beautiful architecture reflects a strong Chinese influence in its historic homes and temples. The unique “Japanese Bridge” is apparently the only known covered bridge with a Buddhist pagoda attached to one side. In 1999 Hoi An was designated a World Heritage Site and its old world charm makes it a “must see” place on the Vietnam tourist track.

For me it was simple. Weather and fool proof Northface Jacket, $28; Silk robe hemmed on the spot, $15; 3 handmade dresses custom fit in less than 24 hours, $15 each; one pair of handmade shoes, $12. Enough said.

The heat though, a bit unbearable. The small city, snuggled against the murky Thu Bon River is generally pedestrian friendly aside from the motorbikes. If there was one place in Vietnam to take a motorbike taxi, this would be your “safest” bet in comparison to the big cities, but I still chickened out. The absence of cars however makes it accessible to roam the small streets and cafes throughout on foot.

Renee got the flu at this point and we were all hoping it wasn’t anything more. Heat exhaustion fell upon each of us, as we scoured the streets in search of a strong ceiling fan and ten cent beers. The days were spent in simplicity. Shower, walk, beer/fan, shop, beer/fan, lunch, beer/fan, nap, shower, shop, beer/fan,  dinner, beer/fan, sleep.

I had two of my best meals in all of Vietnam in this city. At Hai Café, in ‘Old Hoi An’, sitting outside on the veranda overlooking the various tailor stores, I had curried shrimp wrapped in banana leaf and a large cold Saigon. It was amazing and the atmosphere was cute and elegant; the perfect lunch stop off. Mermaid Restaurant on the other hand, recommended both by the guide book and by a friend, was the first restaurant in Hoi An established in 1992. The pork stuffed squid was impeccable and I’m well glad to have taken the friend’s recommendation. That is, until I saw horror on Renee’s face just as we had our plates cleared. She screamed then stood up. There was a foot long rat rustling through the ivy in the doorway above my head. Oh – my – gosh. Naturally we were all disgusted and it was right back to the hotel, into the AC and to bed.

In our time spent in Vietnam up until this point we had rarely encountered many Westerners. Escaping the heat in a small café we engaged in conversation with two US veterans fulfilling their bucket list of returning for the first time since the Vietnam War. Their stories were interesting, and it was nice to engage in some casual conversations as we hadn’t met many other travelers. When they began disrespecting the staff however, demanding air conditioning because “that’s what you do for American visitors” and speaking in broken English, it was unfortunate but we had enough and preferred the company of local food and culture.

The street food stalls, the cafes, the rows upon rows of tailor shops, motorbikes whizzing by your ear and colorful lanterns lighting the streets at night. Definitely worth a visit.

Say It Ain’t So


The existence of tomato sauce flavored chips is about as foreign to me as tomato sauce flavored chips. Gross! Apparently lots of things come in tomato sauce, aka ketchup, flavor.

I just found this new delicious restaurant slash craft beer bar not too far from my apartment called Bitter Suite. Beers are awesome, and expensive, and awesome. Yum Sunshine Coast Brewery Porter! Also, the food ain’t too shabby. Pork belly with succulent crackle, mmm whah (like a smack on the tip of your fingers). I just returned from there. Love that the owner recognized me and my love for Porter’s from a few weeks back. Yeah girlfriend.

I fly to New York in less than one week from today. I was hoping my killer tan would impress everyone, I’m not sure if it’s so killer anymore. I was told to not forget my roots when inquiring about how freezing the temperature actually is. Damn’it, its freezing! Back to the beach. Not sure if I can squeeze a last minute sesh in, however would like to point out that the last two occasions I was at the beach, my bathing suit bottoms, known in Aussie slang as togs, were on inside out. Twice! Yes, twice I’ve been lazily tanning and minding my tanning business to have someone point out, “Oh hey dude, you know your bottoms are on inside out!” Uh…twice, really?!?!

There is a rule many folk may be familiar with which states “no shirt, no shoes, no service”. I would like to tell you that that rule does not apparently apply in Australia. No shirt, no problem. Boys don’t wear shirts, a lot. Actually, if they do, it’s probably a singlet, which is what they call a tank top. Which I hear only Californian surfer boys wear, and FYI no one on the US East coast would ever be caught dead in. There is also a tendency to not wear shoes. Like a lot, again. Most often I see this in grocery stores. Service is all of a different standard, so no problem.

I’m back in time a bit, but as the much anticipated Twilight Saga: Breaking Dawn Part I was released, I was pleasantly entertained at the Blue Room Cinebar in Rosalie, a cute suburb crawling with eateries of all cuisine and alfresco seating, displaying much cuteness in every direction (apparently I’m not one with words this evening). Anyways, Blue Room, tickets cost an appreciated $11 in advance, they have a swinging bar to socialize in before the show, and you order bevies and food prior to taking your assigned seat in the small 50 person theatre and they feed you as you watch the movie. Another wine? Press the button and it magically appears while I stare into Edward Cullen’s dreamy eyes and imagine running my hands through his bouffant.

In the US there is this fabulous reality TV show called Beauty and the Geek where they pair “beauties” of super hot chicks who aren’t meant to be fairly intellectually challenged with even the basics of life, with a “geek” who has most likely never a kissed a girl and is unaware of pop culture phenomenon’s. Heaven must love TV series creators! They were smart enough to run Season 2 of Beauty and the Geek Australia, thank G, and although it has expired I had intentions of blogging about its addictive nature months ago, as the Geeks got sweet makeovers and all the sudden turned hot. Just saying, download that for some amusing entertainment, hello Gilly!

Spike, the damn lizard who has lots of relatives that sprawl all over Brisbane, is technically a Goanna. Just thought everyone should know.

While working in Hoboken, New Jersey from 2007 to 2011 my local bar was called The Dubliner. It was an Irish pub that served awesome cole slaw till the management changed and annoyingly took the cole slaw off the menu. I would just say to Ben, the bartender, side of slaw and Yeungling please! And could sit there for hours. Things changed over the years, but that was the gist of it.

The “pub” next to my work now is called The Coro. There is no weekly Thursday HH (happy hour) like there was in Hoboken, but on the occasion that we do go there all bottled beers are only $5, even deliciousness like Leffe. The toilets are see-through until you press the lock, then it goes cloudy so people can’t see you doing your business. These are the vast differences of the Dubliner verses the Coro. I still secretly favor the Dubliner in the old days, where you could sit there with a pint of Guinness by yourself and listen to the Fratellis. Luckily a new boutique beer bar called Scratch just opened in the Milton neighborhood that may soon to be the Coro replacement.

I’m going to quote my friend Anthony who said at the Coro “I’m pretty sure Australia created the plastic currency that’s now used around the world, except in America because your money is made from paper.” Have a think about that.

Hey! Mr. Tamborine Man


Apparently snakes don’t give warning before they attack! I know, weird right? I’ll make it clear up front that I have not been bitten by a snake however, I have been intrigued after having a discussion on the top of Mount Tamborine, whilst  overlooking the valley, of people who have been bitten on the ankle by a snake, and only realize such after returning home from their walk. I would assume there would have been some fair warning. Apparently because of all the flooding last year the snakes are coming out to play!

Cheers! We're on our way

Mt. Tamborine is a boutique wine region on an eight kilometer ridge of a mountain chain along the Gold Coast. Since my friend Nidya was celebrating a birthday we rented a limo and headed to the southern hinterlands – up the mountain for some schnapps, wine, beer and cheese tasting to celebrate! I relived what felt like prom, posing for photos out front of the limo before our friendly driver Brian ushered us on our way.

Mt. Tamborine Distillery, so cute!

First stop was Mt. Tamborine Distillery. A cute little property tucked back behind black iron gates, the distillery sits amongst gingerbread house style buildings with large black and white spades plastered over the exterior. Vintage gardening tools rest against oak barrels as the fountain trickles calmly in the background. We were greeted instantaneously by the colorful owner Michael and his wife with a rendition of happy birthday played on accordion.

Michael from Mt. Tamborine Distillery wrapping some lemoncello

Michael looks a bit like Father Christmas only in his Hawaiian style shirt it all seemed out of place. The eclectic charm of the distillery was a good choice for this first stop as the variety of schnapps in hand painted colorful glass, from wattle toffee to Turkish delight to musk and lemocello (a favorite amongst the group), had given everyone a head start with their buzz so early in the morning. I’m thinking that the champagne we had up the mountain didn’t help either.

I’d recommend a stop here for anyone traveling in the region – polite, unconventional, and fun. The handmade eastern European knickknacks around the shop were enjoyable to browse through and we all left with a little something – whether it is a bottle of schnapps or hand-woven wool hats. But before we got too comfortable it was time to move on.

The vineyard at Witches Falls

Witches Falls Winery is one of the most favored in the region. In addition to light and fruity syrahs and sauvignon blancs with hints of capsicum (pepper) and oak they also specialize in batches of wild fermented yeast varieties. A big risk for wine makers because the outcome is so unpredictable however the viognier was one that I couldn’t refuse to take back with me.

Gallery Walk

Back in town is what is known as Gallery Walk. It’s the closest thing to “downtown” as it gets up in this mountain community, with a strip of art galleries, fudge shops, local craft merchants and handmade goodies all around. Tucked at the top of the street sits Mount Tamborine Brewery. With the small craft brewery on site, this cute stop off is a great place to get lunch, use the toilet (as many of the wineries don’t allow customers to use the restrooms unless there is a restaurant on site – weird!), and sample some of their delicious brews. $10 gets a sampler of 4 beers that the knowledgeable staff helps mix and match based on your preferences for taste. I chose the darker variety which had an awesome Belgian dubbel, black forest German dark beer, a mild lager and strong wheat. Also here is the cheese factory where they make delicious cheese on the premises and may have judged us a little bit for wanting a taste of nearly everything! I have a garlic goat cheese waiting for me to dip into that I’m having hard time not gobbling down instantaneously.

Flight of beers at Mt. Tamborine Brewery

Cheeeeeese Factory

All the champagne, schnapps, wine and beer started getting to our heads so we traveled farther down Gallery Walk to the Mt. Tamborine Winery to
have lunch on large picnic tables outside. The food was a bit disappointing as was the fact there was no actual vineyard. We nibbled on small baguettes, salads and lamb shanks. I find it interesting that lamb shanks in N. America can be quite expensive and only served at certain restaurants where it is a dish that I’m told many Australians have grown up with and I’ve spotted it on menus quite frequently. So, because we were running a bit tight on time we opted to skip the tasting and find a view so we could enjoy the scrumptious looking rocky road cupcakes made by Sharni.

The top of the world at Mt. Tamborine

Brian drove us to a lookout point on the side of the mountain where hang gliders often leap from. As the wind blew my hat off of my head and we watched it tumble down the mountain Jacqui caught it in time just before it leaped over the same edge the hang gliders often do. I asked her not to risk if for a $9.99 hat but luckily she was fast! So there we sat, quietly and calmly eating our cupcakes while taking in the breathtaking view and winding down from a very long day which unpredictably was going to be a lot longer. This is where we talked about the damn snakes that don’t give warning.  I also asked Brian if this was a popular make out point however I don’t think he heard me because I never got a response.

We turned into the side streets of Paddington, back in Brisbane, bladders nearly busting and contemplated where to take the night. Naps before dinner or shine right through. I think the answer is obvious.

Vietamese at Kim Lan post winery tour

Those with other evening obligations traded spots with some of the guys since they didn’t join on the wine tour and there was no better spot to dine then KimLan in Chinatown. I watched Nidya eat a fried Quail whole – literally, whiling singing the tune “bones bones bones bones bones” as I couldn’t believe it is okay to eat friend bird bones, spine and all. But, I’ll let you judge her for that.  Happy Birthday Nidya!

Happy Birthday Nidya!

Brisness to Melbourne


Some graffiti off of Flinders

Stop being so secretive Melbourne! With your graffiti-laden laneways that just scream “I’m soooo cool!” Well, damnit Melbourne you are! Now stop showing off your multi-culturism, excellent public transportation, and ethnic pots melting. I get it already! I get that there are people having fun down some secret ally that I  have no idea exists, at a bar behind a turn next to a statue above a lamppost. The problem is, I want to be in the know so so bad and you’re rubbing in the fact that I’m just a clueless tourist!

Flinders Station & passing tram

For years Melbourne has been on the list of must visit cities, however, I’ve always been a bit nervous that I’d fall in love with it and never want to return to where I came from. A bit of  a habit of mine. So off I went, a little bit of business, and little bit of pleasure. Am I rushing to move? Not quite yet, but give me a couple more goes with some people who are actually in the know and you may be hearing more from me about the 2nd biggest city in Australia.

So obviously on the quick two-hour jaunt down south I wrote down a few things I wanted to accomplish while in Melbourne:

  • Manicure
  • Laneways (Alleyways)
  • Penguin Island (Prince Phillip Island)
  • Wineries (Yarra Valley)
  • Wes (Friend from Splendour)
  • Street art!

I did you a favor and decoded some for you. Now, I guess the only things on that list I did not accomplish were seeing the penguins (awww, I know!) and going to Yarra Valley. Don’t worry; I made up for it partying with Wes till the wee hours the night before. Figured, hang out with someone “in the know” and save the penguins for later. I’m sure they’ve been there for hundreds of years.

I also wrote down a couple of general Australian observations that have nothing whatsoever to do with Melbourne. Firstly, snakes! Yea snakes! They’re gummy candy (or what they like to call lollies here, whatever). And they’re just like everywhere. All the time people are like oh hey, do you want a snake? And I just laugh and go heck yea, throw me a snake!

Also, when was the last time you remember getting served a full course meal, with booze, on an economy domestic flight? I mean, I’m pretty sure Continental even got rid of those cute little turkey sandwiches that gave them such a competitive advantage. Gave me a reason to rack up the frequent flyer points at least. But in all seriousness, it’s been ages. But Quantas however, the official Australian airline, bangs out meals like nobody’s business. Full dinner, beer and wine, and a Cadbury thank you very much. Just saying.

And I’ll leave you with one more before heading back to Melbourne. Taxis. You sit in the front. Yea, weird right? Like, they get mad if you don’t. But what’s also really neat, is they have a system called Cab Charges. So for work, if I need to take a cab anywhere in Australia they give me these tickets that act like credit cards and it automatically bills the company. Sweet.

So I spent my first free night in Melbourne after a long day of giving presentations roaming around Degraves Street. It’s a cute laneway lined with tons of cafes, outdoor seating, and just had a vibe about it. So…everyone gets it, right, that the farther south you go the colder it is, farther north hotter etc. I live in the north, Melbourne is very far south. But! Nobody in Melb seems to care and they all just chill outside in a very European way and smoke their faces off. So, I found myself a spot in the corner of Degraves Espresso Bar, had myself a glass of Sauv Blanc from Yarra Valley and ordered the stuffed octopus. Think I surprised the cute red-haired waiter with my accent. Oops, happens sometimes.

Cafes and such

I then wrote down another list of things to do, most likely forgetting that I had already done that the day before.

  • Take pics of sweet street art
  • Make local friends and learn the laneways
  • Love this city!

Center Place

Crossing Flinder’s Lane, Degraves turns into Centre Place and it’s even cuter! Tons of boutiques resting next to cafes. A wrong turn, some graffiti, another laneway. The following evening I tried a different route after scouting around all day, and ended up at the Crown Casino. Gorgeous interior with high-end fashion and dining. I ended up in the food court eating Mousahka (huge Greek influence in this city – second largest Greek population in the world next to real Greece) before heading off to a backpackers bar where I befriended Gabe and Sara and ended up at a bar called Trash Bar in the middle of the city with their dreadlocked friend named Rabbit. Nice to meet you, time for me to head out.

A view of Melbourne from St. Kilda

Thankfully Saturday arrived, I had a lovely sleep in, and then Wes, one of our besties from Splendour in the Grass whisked me off to St. Kilda. Now that’s where I want to live! Along the coast, streets lined with palm trees and high-rises overlooking the ocean I just thought, so California. Although it was a bit chilly out, we walked along the water, and I got so excited at the thought of spring approaching, and it has. Goodbye longest winter of my life!

Wes walking the beach

We dined at the Beachcomber and again I was caught off guard with the odd coupling of seafood and Greek dishes that seem to be so apparent in this city. We munched over tapas and wine catching up about the cities of Melbourne, Brisbane and traveling. Wes and his flat mates later had me over dinner for lamb lollipops and kangaroo skewers. I didn’t even know it was kangaroo until after. And I didn’t mind. It was good! Wes then showed me his local scene out in Collingwood where we danced and laughed and mingled and danced until my cabby dropped me off in the city as the sun was rising. Needless to say, I didn’t go see the penguins on Sunday. This was also the day I found out that Beyonce was pregnant. Global news here people!

Wes, a drag queen, and me out in Collingwood

Monday through Wed back to the grind at work. After dining at the work event Tuesday a friend took me to the scariest bar in the world! For realz. So there it is, another laneway floor to ceiling in graffiti. Another turn, and then another. At this point I’m saying, “This is EXACTLY what I’m talking about! No idea, I would have had no freaking idea!”

Yea, well so Croft Bar has this whole mad-scientist/institute theme. There are test tubes and odd décor all over. No biggie. We’re pretty much the only people in the bar, and Ryan the young bartender is chatting to us about crazy cocktail mixology stuff and local beers. But then, I have to pee. HOLY SHNIKES! So, you go up these stairs and it looks like an insane asylum. In the ladies room, there is even like a hospital bed and stuff. I’m getting the heck out of here! Like seriously, I need to be accompanied to the bathroom the next time around. And even better, apparently there are multiple floors in this place with different themes. Not super cheesy like Jekyll and Hyde in NYC, but just super scary.

The ladies bathroom

So I guess the best part was, aside from me being totally freaked out, was when we asked Ryan if we could take a pic of him he posed with his to wrists out in front of him, facing down and said “I pose like this because I have a baby roo at home.” I gave a Whhhhattttt! And he responded, “yea, I’m way Aussie mate!” and I think that is the best quote I’ve ever heard.

So I just flipped my head over, took a pair of scissors, and straight up just cut my hair. Just like that. Pause. It sounds way more dramatic than it actually was. It was like an inch. Not Brittany style or anything. I could feel myself starting to get scissor happy so I scooped the contents up from my bathroom sink, and moved on to dinner. I don’t think anyone will even notice. But that’s okay, they aren’t supposed to. Shhh.

Note to self: don’t eat fish curry while sipping pink grapefruit juice.

Sushi Steal of Tribeca


Sake Bomb

When friends of mine proposed all you can eat & drink Sushi in Tribeca for a mere $30 I was skeptical, this has to be the california roll only kind of deal. So as a group of us hauled into a few cabs and made the short trek from the West Village over to Greenwich Street my mind was racing of the thought of spending my hard-earned pennies potentially planting me in bed all weekend from consuming defective raw fish.

If you’re attempting to visit Ashiya III (also has sister locations in the East Village and Jersey City) on a weekend make reservations. Simple enough – this place gets packed! Walking in we were quickly ushered to a group of small wooden tables pushed together making one long sake-bomb shelf. Listening to the amusing and rambunctious tables around us it was evident that we could wait no longer. At precise timing the waitress delivered to each table setting a clear glass cup, and inside, a ceramic sake cup.

Bang, drop, drink. With careful expertise the gentlemen of the table poured their glass cups halfway with Asahi Beer. Next the sake cups were filled from the small white sake pitchers. Chop sticks were placed side by side and layed on top of the beer cups. Then the sake cup was placed on top of the chop sticks. All are ready and marching orders are in place. At the count of three…bang, drop, drink! Fists pound on the table; sake quickly drops in the beer cup; and the men rush to drink the contents as fast as possible. I see a long night ahead of us.

What’s most impressive about this place is the two-sided menu. At first glance, the one side has your traditional sashimi and basic sushi roll offerings – spicy crunchy tuna, california roll, philadelphia roll. This met my expectations and therefore I was ready to order my usual “I’m on a budget” fare but before I could complete my order the waitress quickly pointed out that there’s more. There’s more? (subtle eye brow lift).

Heck yes there’s more! There’s maki rolls made from real crab meat and speciality rolls – each unique enough to make you scratch your head and ask yourself, but which one do I choose? Choose all! It’s all you can eat, duh! A few table favorites included the Lover Roll (salmon, crab stick, and avocado with spicy crunchy tuna on top) or the Dinosaur Roll (cucumber, avocado, and tempura flake with broiled white tuna and masago on top).

When your 2 hours are up it’s time to get out and the staff aren’t afraid to say so. We started to notice before our next pitcher of beer was ordered and the few pieces of sushi were soon scarfed down a check magically appeared on our table. The extra $10 per person thrown on for tax and gratuity make the $30 all-inclusive more like a $40 all-inclusive but hey, it still ain’t a bad deal baby and the sushi was damn good.

Ashiya Sushi I
680 Rt 440
Jersey City, NJ 07304

Ashiya Sushi II
167 1st Ave
New York, New York 10003
212-505-3348

Ashiya Sushi III
374 Greenwich St
New York, New York 10013
212-962-8080

Could this be beer heaven?


4:20 at Pony Bar
The menu at Pony Bar – changes daily!
We crawl through Hells Kitchen and down restaurant row. Although its cold outside, it’s not cold enough for us to see our breath. The glow of Christmas lights outside the boutique restaurants gives a sense of comfort, despite the holiday having gone. Onward, march.

Approaching 10th avenue there isn’t too much around except a vast Hess Station on the corner of 45th street. Taking up nearly a whole block, this immeasurable vicinity sticks out as awkwardly as your grandmother at a gay cabaret. But there is another defining characteristic to this street corner, The Pony Bar.

Stouts, hefeweizen, IPA…hops upon hops upon hops! Glorious days, I think to myself, this has to be the best place on earth. What makes this place so unique is that it serves only craft brews from across the US. That means you may try a Belgian ale or a delicious German wheat but its going to be grown domestically.

I feel like I’m on Family Feud when I scan the large board taking up the back wall behind the bar. Each listing depicts the brewery, beer, and alcohol content (ABV). No need to mention price because they’re all only $5. Try and find another steel like that in Manhattan. I dare ya.

I’m intrigued by the breweries and curious to learn more. Where is Goose Island and what’s their speciality? How about Sly Fox? I’m seeing a theme here that many brewers choose names from animals, uhum, Dog Fish Head.

I take notice of the clock on the wall. It’s permanently stalled at 4:20. I find it no coincidence then that their happy hour which earns patrons $1 off all drafts runs from 4:20-5:20 daily. I approach the bartender and ask for one of their large score sheets. This allows me to keep track of each beer I drink and give it a rating. Once I hit 100 I get a free t-shirt. Clearly obtaining this goal is my latest priority.

I now spend my days daydreaming about the next time I will be able to stop in the Pony Bar, grab a seat at one of their large picnic tables, and dabble with the thought of which beer will catch my fancy. For starters, I cannot get that Cappuccino Stout out of my mind!

http://www.theponybar.com