So, I seem to have got
some stories jumbled up out of any chronological order.
Unintentionally of course.
The third day in a row
of this blasted storm. Actually, in all honesty it hasn't done much
to annoy me or change anything that I wanted to do. When it rains,
you dress accordingly or face the fact that you're going to get wet.
In this case very wet.
Some work
men are doing repairs or improvements on the apartment block where
Dom and Nina live. This means that on a regular basis the fire alarm
goes off in the whole building. Kind of a drill, it is no cause for
alarm. However due to the nature of the system in the building, if
the alarm is triggered, the fire brigade are immediately notified.
The first time it went off was day 1 of the storm. With all the rain,
confusing and traffic as a result of the weather, it took the first
fire engine over half an hour to arrive. According to the work men,
the fire brigade are the only people able to reset the alarm. Until
they punch in a code, it goes on and on. The alarm blaring and a
voice coming over the P.A. System. “Please proceed to the nearest
exit and evacuate in an orderly manner”. At full volume and the
last time it went off it was about 8am. Too early for an alarm to be
going off when I don't have a job to go to or reason to be awake.
The
annoyance of the alarm did give me reason to get out of bed, sort my
things out and head out for the morning. I popped down to one of many
local coffee shops, one that I'd visited several times before. 'The
Paramount' for short. The rain had subsided a little but as soon as I
made it out the front door the heavens opened. Walking about three
blocks from the apartment building to the café caused me to get
soaked. It was as if some sinister bastard had decided he was going
to throw buckets of water at me as I walked. It wasn't rain but a
constant and flowing wall of water. I read a book, over about an hour
had a couple cups of coffee and hoped that the alarm situation had
been rectified. When I neared the building I didn't see any fire
engines in the open or concealed. A good sign. Opening the door and
stepping through into silence. I rushed upstairs to get showered and
ready for the day. The rain had stopped and the fire alarm was no
longer sounding.
I made it
out and decided on a rough route I was going to take, visiting a
couple of pubs along the way into Darlinghurst, a neighbouring suburb
of Surry Hills.
There was a
food place on Oxford St that I wanted to see. All I knew was that it
was called 'Mr Crackles' and they served pork scratchings. I paid
about $5 for a big paper cup or crackling. Crispy seasoned pork rind.
The first few bites were lovely. After a piece the size of present
day smartphone I decided it wasn't a good idea. It was salty, over
the top salty, almost, actually it was unbearable. I finished the lot
but felt like shit. I love pork scratchings or crackling, any kind of
pork fat or rind. This was horrible. It tasted like that really
pungent smell you get from burning hair or flesh, the smell that gets
right up your nose and clings to the back of your throat. Only rather
than only your nose being invaded by such a horrific beast, your
tongue, throat, mouth, everywhere was. I could feel my stomach trying
to repel it but my determination to swallow it and finish it kept it
down. I managed but it wasn't sitting well and I really didn't feel
good about it.
Eating the
crackling, I walked down Crown St towards the pub I was aiming for,
on the corner of Crown and Cathedral. Not only was it a bad decision
to eat them, walking down one of the steepest hills around made it so
much worse. Once I was finished I felt worse than a cheerleader after
being pounded by the whole Football team. My stomach was turning, all
I could taste was that rancid filth. I needed a beer and a glass of
water desperately.
The East
Sydney Hotel was my saviour. The rain had completely stopped now
filling all with optimism that it might end up being a good day, the
sky was clearing so why wouldn't it. I walked in and enquired about
plug sockets, I had some writing to catch up on and my laptop battery
was almost flat. The other day when I went to the café above Berklow
on Oxford St, my battery ran out and I couldn't find any power points
so was left with a dead laptop and lots of writing to do.
I made a
little seating area out of a couple of stools and a chair, plugged my
laptop in and got on with business.
I ordered a
schooner of a Red IPA by Modus Operandi, a brewery based in Mona
Vale, Sydney. It was 7.8% so came with a warning. The barmaid asked
if I was driving as the beer was so strong. I assured her I wasn't
and took my seat.
I plugged my
laptop in and began. I made myself comfortable out of a curious
arrangement. A stool as my table and another stool as a desk, I sat
on an old fashioned wicker chair. I can't remember the last time I
made a fort or something quite like this. It was better than any fort
I'd made previously out of chairs, cushions and blankets. I got quite
a lot done, and in the process of charging my laptop and writing, I
also charged my phone.
As I was
focused on my writing, a guy walked in. He didn't look dodgy and by
the way he greeted the barmaid with a “hello darling, how are you?”
I didn't think anything of it. He then started to become what I would
deem unfit for the earth, but a little less extreme, he was not fit
for the pub, he wasn't the sort of clientèle that would be
beneficial in any way. Not quite a slam but he put a five dollar bill
on the bar and asked the barmaid, “get me whatever beer with that”,
not that $5 is overly cheap for a beer. It isn't that realistic
unless you are in some kind of club or a big pub with lots and lots
of pokies. He was disappointed, you could see and hear it in his
voice. In an angry tone he continued by saying “you've lost a good
customer”, sorry but a good customer. Pull the other one mate. Any
way, he left with rudeness in his tone and manner. An absolute prick!
I went back
to my beer and writing. I was nearly done with my beer so made my way
to the bar. I ordered another of the same. It wasn't cheap at just
under $10 for a schooner but I was willing to pay that for it, it was
a good beer in a fantastic pub and helping me with my work. As I sat,
drinking and writing, I watched the rest of the afternoon pass by. I
was finished about as much writing I could be bothered to do, slowly
drip by drip finished off my beer. I had to get back to the flat to
let my brother in as I had his set of keys. I was hoping to meet him
wherever but going back gave me a chance to put my laptop away and
chill for a minute while he got ready. We were going to a restaurant
called 'Una's' an Austrian (I think) themed restaurant specialising
in probably the best schnitzel in Sydney.
On the way
to Una's, we stopped into the Darlo Bar again. We both had Young
Henry's 'Real Ale' again. Dom's phone rang so he took the call, I
went inside to get the beers, he stayed outside on the phone. It was
a long call, so long in fact that I almost had to stop drinking my
beer so I didn't finish it before he finally made it inside. We drank
them quickly and left to go to the restaurant. With it being BYO we
went via a bottle shop to get some wine. Before we selected the wine
we had a browse at the beer selection. The selection was insane. I
didn't think I'd see so many decent and random craft beers at a
bottle shop that specialised in fine wines. It was puzzling but
fantastic at the same time. Twenty minutes wasn't long enough to look
them all over. In fact we popped back in after we'd eaten, but that
later.
We didn't
get any wine so crossed the road and went inside to sit down, order
and eat our food.
I'd been
looking forward to my next visit to Una's. It's one of the only times
I ever order veal. Not because of animal welfare or anything, I just
don't seem to see it often and when I do there are usually other
things on the menu I'd rather eat. Veal it was tonight though and boy
was I excited. We got the usual. Veal schnitzel for me, chicken for
Dom and Nina with a side of creamed spinach to share. We all had Gypsy which is covered in a rich and mildly spicy tomato sauce. Like always, a
slaw came out straight away. Careful not to eat it all before our
food came out, we had the occasional fork full then held some
restraint. When we placed our order, we ordered some beer. The one we
ordered was out, our second choice was also out. The waitress came
out with another one off the list, it was the only one they had left.
It was a Spelt Wheat beer from '2 Metres Tall' a brewery from
Tasmania that by the looks of it tend to make stranger than normal
beers. A lot of them being wild fermented or sour styles.
The beer was
really good. A slightly sharp wheat beer, like with spelt flour, it
had a naturally sour tang. This one had been aged and I would imagine
some strain of bacteria, most probably Brettanomyces had found its
way into the tank. Somewhere I read that the sourness would develop
over time. As with the slaw, it was hard to not drink all the beer
before the food came out but the food wasn't long and we were tucking
in as soon as it hit the table. I devoured mine in a very short
period of time and so my brain was tricked into still making me feel
hungry. The beer beautifully cut through the grease and fat from the
Tasmania sized piece of fried meat. However unhealthy, it was an
amazing and divinely tasty dinner. If only schnitzels were healthy, I
would eat one every day for the rest of my life.
If only I
had more time and money, I'd love to work my way though all the Two
Metre Tall beers.
Farmhouse Ales and Ciders from a farm.
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