A new work timetable (which involves starting work at the hour of death in order to free up afternoons for study) plus an injection of clemency from the weather gods meant there was really only one way to spend yesterday’s lunchtime: beer in the sun by the Yarra. It was probably not the most sensible idea given I was meeting my uni supervisor at 3 o’clock but I met N after work and we went to Transport, a bar I generally avoid in the evenings when it is swamped in trendiness. But yesterday, the stilettoed ones off doing what they do, it was simply lovely.
We ordered two pints of Hoegarden. It felt bizarre drinking it because in London this was our breakfast drink to be enjoyed at our local on a Sunday morning with a plate of egg and chips, a pile of newspapers and a headache. In retrospect, its fruity mildness is much better suited to whittled away spring afternoons than the dark dens of the East End.
N entrusted me to order some food (payday, yay!). I decided salads were in order, our kitchen not having seen much green for a while. I ordered a Caesar salad for N. The bartender informed me that it would be anchovy-free. Apparently the trendies don’t like anchovies so the kitchen doesn’t even stock them. Next thing you know, they’ll be putting chicken in it – an acceptable dish in its own right but nothing to do with old Caesar. Back in ancient Rome, they are rolling in their graves.
I had a rocket, pear and parmesan salad. It’s the Buddhists who say that if you have no expectations you cannot be disappointed. Well that was my salad. The Caesar salad was an (albeit yummy) slap in the face to a sacred food culture, thus leading to our annoyance from an unfulfilled expectation. But my rocket salad, which had shaves of nutty parmesan throughout as well as grated within the dressing, came expectation-free and turned out to be the perfect pairing (pear-ing??) to a sunny Hoegarden-fuelled afternoon.
I do like Spring!
Just noticed you are reading Catherine M. Thoughts? Personally I found 200 pages of group sex surprisingly boring.
Posted by: Rubydot | September 14, 2005 at 05:53 PM
Hi Rubydot
A friend in London gave me Catherine M after I read Fear of Flying and Bride Stripped Bare. Possibly to complete the trilogy, possibly as a non-judgmental version of the previous two. But I have to agree with you, without the societal self-consciousness of the previous two it does become a bit insular and yes boring. Its like it loses its edge once no one is judging. Sad but true. But the mini-glimpses of bohemian Paris sustain me through Brunswick . . .
Posted by: catonthebench | September 19, 2005 at 09:22 PM