Vampiric Couch Potato

You have tried Turkish, Greek, Lebanese, Indian but not Persian food. Embarrassingly, you do not take note of the name of the restaurant. You only recall it’s the one on the left (there are two) with the entrance being the grocery store bit - with stacks and stacks of dried goods piled on the counter to the point you can’t see the said counter.

Persian food is your exotic familiar friend next door. Some food names foreign and rolls off your tongue strangely but not all. There, on the menu you read b-r-i-y-a-n-i and n-a-a-n. ‘Cultural appropriation!’ Copycats!’ some may scream, but not you. You, the educated scholar, and keen researcher of Wikipedia, historical novels/Mangas. In particular, you dedicate your ‘extensive’ knowledge to the eye-opening read, ‘A Bride’s Story’ by Kaoru Mori on Central Asia.

Back to the main point, Marco Polo is said to have brought ‘pasta’ from China to Italy in the 13th Century. Archaeological evidence does show noodles existed 4000 years ago in China, lending much strength to said story. Likewise, they say that it was the Mughal royalty that brought briyani and naan to India. There is evidence of such food existing in Central Asia for eons. Does that make Indians the cultural appropriator!? ∑(ﾟﾛﾟ〃) Honestly, it really depends, doesn’t it, what is fusion? Adaptation? Cooking flavours from home? If a Mughal royal goes to India, eats Mughal food, and spreads the love of Mughal food to Indians. Does that make it cultural appropriation? Does the Medici who married a French and hence brought Italian pastries to France, make macaroons cultural appropriation? Or is only cultural appropriation if a ‘great’ royal conquers another land and takes their recipes home? Such is a table-side conversation while you peruse the menu, only to then see “French Fries: Potato strips in deep fry”. Definitely, absolutely, Persian…because its strips in deep fry ╮(╯▽╰)╭

Besides the rather familiar names, was the taste exotic? You say it still is. Goat curry, lamb briyani, kebabs, and naan were all savoured. Each bite bringing familiarity but not quite. The spice blend being a little different, tasty but different.

When it comes to curries, it is all about the secret blend. Perhaps it was a Persian blend, perhaps it was just the secret blend of the restaurant. Perhaps, one day, you will eat at another Persian restaurant and think, this tastes like my dad’s!

Note to self, NEVER got to Queen Victoria Market with your flatmate’s mum. You have two flatmates, a mum and daughter pair. The mum likes to do her daily grocery shopping at the market near you. Every now and then, you like to visit the market too. Cheaper and fresher than the supermarkets, it’s a good place to buy food. Its just a question of whether you wake early enough and can be bothered to go.

The first time you went with your flatmate’s mum, you went with the purpose of buying fruits. You ended up with fruits but also a pair of shoes…It is a good steal and proper leather with orthopedic soles but it was definite not on the list of “to buy”. How did this happen, you ask? Well after stocking up, you and the mum takes a walk around the stalls and she mentions that she recently found a really good shoe shop and brings you there…

The second time you head out to the market with said mum was to buy muffins for teatime. MUFFINS not handbag. So how did it go? Your flatmate’s mum says she needs a leather belt, so you walk around with her while she searches for one. She then tells you of this amazing handbag shop she saw and how it was on sales. Naturally you go there with her…not so naturally you end up with a nice little leather bag. You HAVE been meaning to find something of similar fashion but did you plan to buy it that day? Or buy an authentic leather bag over cheap canvas/PVC? Certainly not.

Such an enabler she is. By the way you had to stop her from picking too many bags and even then a short turn around to check something out landed her another bag…

Each year, Melbourne hosts an amazing festival called the Moomba Festival. Stretching across a large expense of the riverbanks, the festival hosts a wide range of activities from water-ski competitions to standard carnivals. With each night closing with fireworks. Given you are here in Melbourne seeking an adventure – the Moomba festival is certainly on your list. You invite your newfound friends to join in on the fun and soon it becomes a group of 6 girls in Melbourne on some form of adventure hanging out.

Initially it was a simple meet-up to catch the fireworks. You figured, squeezing in two social events would therefore be fine. But soon it became a 4pm to midnight affair. For who goes to a festival just for the closing? You really were kidding yourself when you thought it would be a doable day.

By 3.30pm, you are on the streets of Melbourne, making the trek to the river. By 4pm, you and the girls are roaming the carnival – some queue for the games, others like you check out the food. You queue for one dish, eat the dish as you queue for another. The carnival itself is everything you remember of pop-up carnivals in UK. The shooting games, creepy clowns, thrilling rides and the VERY long queues for it all. You do find yourself in a non-food queue – to spin the wheel of fortune at Channel 9 News booth. Everyone is a winner (you get chupa chops for participating), but you are a true winner of a sports water bottle too :D

The group finds a relatively spacious and quiet spot to sit, chat and take the necessary selfies while waiting for the highlight of the program – silent disco!

This silent disco was far more fun that any you have ever had. It is no ordinary head-phone wearing dancers on a dance floor. You have a silent disco guide all geared up in the fashionable clothes of the 80s dance aerobics. His name is Yo-Yo and he gets you all warmed up with some disco moves – think Grease Lightning. With the warm up over, it now truly starts. For there is no fix dance floor, the world is a stage and the carnival your dance floor. You roam about under his guidance, everyone doing coordinated moves as they snake around unsuspecting normies who stare at you crazies. Naturally as they stare, you amongst the crazies approach. You sing out loud (probably off tune) and and show off your moves at a proximity that can be unnerving to the normies. Think stomping over to picnic goers and kids happy with their stuffed toy prize they had just won, and Michael Jackson-ning them with “Can You Feel It”. You don’t stop till they say “Yes”. When a curated group of crazies come together, such acts of nuisance becomes fun, amusing, and perfectly normal. You are no longer embarrassed to be on ‘stage’ dancing coordinated moves to Katy Perry’s Hot n Cold. Likewise, the normies are not irritated by your intrusion but rather they whip their phones out to film you while having this bemused grins on their faces. Naturally amongst all these, you find the true crazies. They are not part of the headphone wearer, but they here you sing the song. They recognise it and with that, they jump in to your circle and flash off some moves (some amazing others hilarious) while shouting out the lyrics at the top of their voices. Your guide makes mention to this, how he finds it absolutely amazing whenever these randoms cut it and how they have absolutely no idea he is talking ‘shit’ about them. Not that he really is, because the disco has a PG rating :D

You and your group were a little worried as the silent disco timings were a little delayed which meant possibly missing the fireworks. But the dancing was absolutely fun and you decided it was alright to miss fireworks. You can see them every year, but a silent disco tour? That is rare. Things turn out perfect though – for your guide plans an amazing finish to the dancing. He snakes you through moves all the way to the riverbanks and just as the fireworks begins, the tune you hear changes. Yes, its Katy Perry’s Fireworks! Amidst the normies crowded around to watch the fireworks, there you are,

“letting your colours burst, making those around you go ‘oh, oh, oh’”,

while watching in awe the splendour of the fireworks.

Your newfound friend mentions, and all agrees, this would be one of those nights where you would watch the shaky, bad lighting videos and flick through pictures and remember the fantastic night you had. Perhaps you won’t meet the girls you hung out with again but the camaraderie as you danced and sang along to the silent crowd would always be a fond memory of your days in Melbourne.

You have heard of Wood Frog Bakery and finally you buy a pain au chocolat to rate it. Previously, your housemate said that it has similar standards to the “crazy queues” Agathe. Unlike far off Agathe, this one happens to be at Queen Vic with no queues. You purchase the humongous pain au chocolat for your taste test.

Ambience: A take-away counter with a rustic feel. Pleasant staff.

Taste: Another hyped-expectations > reality. Its size is all that it has going for it. The Croissant was not buttery and crispy enough. While it was not the doughy nonsense you find masquerading as croissants at some shops, it is not what you would call good either. A run-of-the-mill decent pain au chocolat where the balance of chocolate and pastry could be better. If you are hankering for a croissant, not too fussed for the perfect balance of buttery crispiness and chocolate, this could probably suffice. Given its size to price ratio.

Price: $5.50 for a pain au chocolat. Prices differ depending on the choice made (but hovers around the $5 mark)

Worth a re-visit?: Being a picky viennoiserie eater, I rather go without than eat average ones. So I will not visit it. But you may since there is more than one Wood Frog Bakery and only one Monforte.

Wood Frog Bakery

Multiple locations – see website for locations and timings

On one of your ‘visit the dogs’ day at Flagstaff gardens, you met a friend studying here in the heart of Melbourne. She has a cute brown toy poodle called Yo-yo. Being both dog lovers and new to Melbourne, you bonded with her. Naturally, that means an agreement to meet up once more, triggering your second visit to South Melbourne Market to check out the ‘famous’ paella people have been mentioning.

The easiest way to get to south Melbourne from yours is to hop on a bus at the end of your street. It would be your first time on the bus. You start to understand a little of your cousin’s ranking of public transport in Melbourne: Tram > Train > Uber > Bus. Suspension so terrible you take back all your complains of taxis and busses in Singapore, seats threadbare, floors dinghy, and - perhaps a little coloured - suspicious people.

The bus does take you right to the market though, and with its purpose served, you hop off to enjoy the weekend festive air of markets. It was indeed festive with a Mussels and Jazz event going on. A band plays on stage while pop-up shops add on to the galore of food options of said market.

(Simply Spanish with Dim Sum equipment)

With both of you famished, you decide to wander after eating the famous paella. Here is the thing about hyped-up food, its either really good or the hype raised expectations so high it tastes bad. The paella was terribly super normal that it left you and your friend, absolutely disappointed. Thankfully, you had decided to share that one dish and explore the rest of the market. Otherwise, it would be a pricey and sorely lacking meal. [There will be no separate food review of Simply Spanish as it really just isn’t worth it].

We roam the pop-up stalls where we find a truck selling made-on the spot churros! Since we began with Spanish food, we decided we should find a good Spanish snack to replace the disappointment. The churros lived up to its expectations - piping hot, crispy churros with softer centres. We were now happy and full.

Now the problem with digesting food by taking walks, is that where you walk matters. Walking in a place filled with the aroma of food and the sight of it all means that you get peckish really quick. You had mentioned to your friend about how you enjoyed the oysters at the market during your previous trip. Going past the stall mentioned, naturally triggered this memory and she became peckish for oysters. Seeing her order some, and seeing people walk buy and slurping them down made you well peckish as well. (╮(╯▽╰)╭) You decide to behave however, you only bought 2 oysters of different varieties. Yes, just TWO. Not two dozen, not 12, nor 6. Just two.

You savour the two and decide Sydney oyster > Coffin Bay. But really it could just be in your mind. Your friend says – ‘they all tasted as oysters should, yummy!’. Indeed, they were yummy. It is like your ability to taste wine – you only have two rankings “you like it, you hate it”. Maybe one day, your taste buds for oysters and wine will be more refined. Till then they will taste as oysters and wine should.

Satisfied and terribly full, the two of you head back home. Food coma settles in, and you drift off into a lazy stupor on the bus. Your friend gets a message for a last-minute job in 1.5 hours and so you decide to part ways at the bus stop. But then she asks if you like tea, bubble tea to be exact. Naturally you do and with that, the both of you decide there is still time for a bubble tea before heading home. She introduces you to a place near where you live, Top Tea. With its relaxing décor and good tea, the two of you engage in conversation where the topic of selfies pop-up. With that you are introduced to the world of selfie apps! As stereotypical east Asians, this means you end up taking tons of selfies as well as downloading the app.

Cats...they ignore you half the time. The other half is to make sure all attention is on them. 

The outcome of seeking attention? 

Lots of “i’s. Pretty good that she can type just three characters, i, 8 and 9. It seems she really ate cat 9. 

Not that my dog is any different.

Your mum has a friend who lives in Melbourne. You meet him now and then, and he’s a foodie. Therefore, it is only natural that the meet-up arranged is for Brunch! This family friend picks you up and shows you your ‘hood’, and brings you to Le Bajo Milkbar, another COV-19 creation. 

If you have ever been to Bali and visited Potato Head Beach Club, then know that this is the creation by one of the owners of said club. Stuck in Australia during COV-19, he decided to re-purpose part of his enormous garage (that keeps his fancy cars and what nots) into a little café focussing on Japanese sandwiches aka ‘Sandos’ (San – do). Think thick milky shokupan bread slices (freshly baked) housing a variety of ingredients and hence a sandwich is formed.

The menu has sufficient to choose from as long as you know it’s essentially a Japanese Fusion Brunch café. So don’t expect huge hearty meals but trust me the sandwiches are sizeable. For those who love shortcakes that is not a cake, they do fruit sandos here as well. Drinks wise, you have in-house roasted coffees to ramunes.

Be prepared to queue especially if you head on a weekend, despite operating out of a garage, this place is a veritable name. We were lucky to wait no more than 20 minutes, but it can go over 20min as it’s a tiny place with few seats but plenty who are after a nice catch-up over brunch.

You’ve seen the menu before arriving, so you know your exact choice – a Spicy Tako Karaage Sando. So, what’s the verdict?

Service: Friendly staff but don’t expect tip-top service. You order via QR code or at the counter and your only interaction is really when they serve you food. We ordered a coffee (takeaway) while queuing but managed to get a table before the order came. Frankly, we expect it to hence be served in a proper cup but they still served it in a disposable one. The waitress said she had already made it, so you know… If it was positioned as to be sustainable and not waste the cup, I would respect them. Putting that aside, friendly staff who will talk you through the menu if you wished but otherwise leave you alone.

Ambience: Think interior designer using expensive garage items to make a kitsch but comfortable setting. Wood, plants and an eclectic mix of collectibles creates a hip brunch café environment. It also clearly draws the ‘cool’ crowd. Also did I mention its cute logo (which they print on tote bags for sale). 

Taste: The sando was stuffed with fresh ingredients. The tako (octopus) was well fried, coming nice and crispy but not rubbery. The spicy mayo was not at all spicy but flavourful all the same. It took me quite some time to polish of the fat sando. The shokupan slices were just about right – not too thick to detract from the ingredients but sufficient for you to get the milky taste of bread. We ordered a side tofu salad which was a little average save for the fact they char the miso sauce on the tofu. That was a nice addition – aburi tofu (*≧ڡ≦*). I was told the coffee’s quality varies and that day was not the best. But I enjoyed my Mork hot chocolate. If you are in Melbourne, and come across hot chocolate called “Mork”, go for it! Think of it as Melbourne’s Valrhona. I won’t say it’s the same standard, but its pretty good all the same.

Price: $20+ for a meal

Worth a re-visit?: I could see myself re-visiting this place when I feel like having fancy sandwiches for brunch. But I suspect with the limited menu, I would be bored of it soon.

Le Bajo Milk Bar

8-14 Howard St, Melbourne Victoria 3051 

Lebajo.com.au

You finished serving your bond during the COV-19 years. You soon left behind your iron rice bowl career (a story for another day) and that gave you plenty of time to live in the present and to reflect. That also meant, it gave your mother the ammunition to make you exercise as ‘I’m busy’ didn’t cut it. End result is you started to tag along to tag along with your mother as she went for yoga classes. You weren’t very active at the start, perhaps once in 2 weeks…then it became a regular once a week. You even start to feel guilty when you did not do yoga at all since coming to Australia.

Everyone tells you, just lay out a yoga mat and do it yourself, and perhaps do it more than once a week at that! You have many excuses, the most crucial and truthful is the logistical problem of having no space in your tiny apartment.

At some point, Google or Samsung, SOMEONE basically overheard your conversations. For soon you saw advertisements on Instagram and reading apps about ‘Classpass’. You decide to give it a try, cheapskate you is drawn to the 2-week free trial.

You go for your first yoga session. You take it easy – a 45min Yin Yoga class. You go for your second, you take it easy again – a 60min Yin Yoga class. See the progression!

(Pictures from MOVE yoga studio - nice place with lockers and showers available)

Feeling you’re on a roll, you used up your last free credits for a Aerial Yoga 101 class. You probably overdid yourself there, but it was going at 50% off AND the credits you were using was free anyway! You think to yourself, ‘I can do this!’. It sounds fun, and the receptionist said even 70-year-olds can do the class. You mentally think “I bet that 70-year-old is fitter than me”.

Anyhow, maybe Classpass is worth signing up for. Reviews are a mix bag, from raving about how great it is to raving about how shitty it is. As for now, those free classes are good. Just the walk to the gym, clocks in some of your exercise time. Meaning, you’re meeting the challenge of exercising and being fitter. This couch potato is on the roll! Maybe you’ll soon be Couch F(r)itters. Let’s see how this resolution goes…

For the unaware (just like yourself)

On the same note of meeting people, you choose to attend free salsa classes. Salsa is social so hopefully you speak to people. Salsa is also out of your league. You have zero rhythm sense, you know this all too well, with how your piano classes started with the metronome VERY early, and how it always dragged down your Piano ABRSM exam scores. That and your aural…You love music, you just admit having no talent in it.

You must be questioning, why choose salsa then? Its SOCIAL, you are not. Its DANCE, you have two-left feet. Its LIBERAL, you’re reserved. So WHY!? Partly, it’s the whole “you never know till you do it attitude’ (some call it FOMO, you disagree) and partly, because you HAVE been to salsa parties. You see, you have a bestie who dances. She dragged you to your first salsa social while travelling overseas. You thought all you needed to do, was go with her so that her mum will let both of you go out at night (you were in your teens then). What your friend did not warn you is that there is no such thing as being a wallflower at salsa parties. People there are exuberant, and they will drag you to the dance floor. Thankfully, you are not the lead and a good lead, makes you look good anyway. Was that the end of your salsa parties…funnily it was not. You do end up going to a few more, just for the heck of it.

The natural progression therefore is to take Salsa classes in Melbourne. It is free – no excuse to not attend. It is nearby – no excuse that it is far…and gets your steps per day in. It helps you meet people – checks another box. It is a challenge but not entire new – lowers the barriers to entry. Hence, you sign up for a 4pm Sunday class in the 2nd week of being in Melbourne city.

Was it fun? YES! Surprisingly you enjoyed it. It helped that the instructor was hilarious and made you feel comfortable in the setting.

Did you meet people? YES! You ran into Tanika, who like you wanted to challenge herself and meet people. So as two first-timers to the dancing world, you got along and quickly swapped numbers. Tanika came with a friend, Maiwenn. Voila! 2 in 1!

It helped a lot, that all three of you agreed it is hard to meet people and develop friendship. Tanika had just returned to Australia after more than 3 years overseas. Maiwenn was an exchange student, who have met people over her time in Australia but says those from parties and bars do not truly mean making friends. To keep this friendship going, all three of you agree to sign up for next Sun and decide to hand out a little before heading home.

You end up introducing them to bubble tea! A little stop at Milksha (it was raining, and most shops close by 6pm on a Sun), but hey Asian shops always open late. You naturally, drink BBT but it was your first time at Milksha! You can’t compare with SG since you haven’t had it in SG. BUT you can say it has standard. Australian milk = good milk tea. Also, you LOVE the options (free of charge) of having your drink coming Hot – Warm – Room Temperature – No Ice – Some Ice – A bit more Ice – 100% Iced. You have heard of Hot, with ice, without ice. Maybe a less ice option. BUT the RANGE of temperatures at this MIlksha was stunning even to you. Let alone your uninitiated salsa buddies.

Ignoring all your excuses of why your goals have been met. You actually do meet people. You force it, you force yourself to talk to people. You force yourself to actually go out and see the world beyond your laptop and phone.

Your housemate 1 (mother of housemate 2), suggests early in the settling down period, to take a walk to the nearby Flagstaff gardens after dinner. In all honesty, you are more of a bathe and curl in bed after dinner type of girl, but you agree all the same. A good thing too! For you discover many dogs off leash gathered at the gardens (really just a small park). You make a mental note, to revisit.

The very next day, you do visit. You sit there quietly, watching the dogs. Petting any that come nearby. See you met ‘people’!

The same week, you visit again. You sit there quietly, beside another. You feel this where you should strike a conversation but you struggle internally. Starting conversations, talking to strangers, just interacting with humanoids it’s a very tough struggle for you. You are more comfortable with yourself really. As you were contemplating how to say hello, the girl beside you (Chinese) speaks to you…in Mandarin. You give the awkward smile and say “sorry, I don’t speak chi…mandarin”. Thankfully, she doesn’t stop there but switches to English. Soon you know her brown toy poodle is called Yo-Yo and how she has the exact same dog type all the way to colour in China. Who is also called Yo-Yo (just pronounced with intonation). The conversation goes along and you eventually end up speaking to two others, Debbie and old man George.

Debbie, you have not met since. George you meet all the time! He is a mainstay at the park, knows all the dogs and their mums. Hailing from Greece he has lived most his life in Australia. He loves dogs but is too old to keep one himself. So he brings treats for the dogs at the park. Through George you meet many others. You do not swap numbers or expect to see them again anytime soon but each time, you hold a proper conversation not with just dogs but people.

Something about the word ‘new’ looks awkward and capitalising the ‘N’ makes it weirder.  ‘Nouvel’ (French) seems to read as ‘new’ better to me. But that’s just you, and you know very well, it means nothing about your French capabilities.

New Year resolutions…You never made them. Never believed in them. You recall your secondary school years. The year had just started, you were turning fourteen, and a relief teacher came for homeroom. You recall her to be female and pleasant looking. But to her, you probably were the ‘OMG why did I have such a student for my relief class as a newbie’. You see, you were stubborn about your beliefs even back then at fourteen. You had determined by then, that if new year resolutions were always broken (you never succeeded in any in past years), then it was a pointless exercise. Rather than write them for the sake of doing it, you should just resolve to change any point in the year (if ever). Naturally you did not write a resolution in class, and naturally the teacher notices. She comes up to you and ask why I have not written any down. You kindly inform her of your beliefs, and you recall she paused and tried to convince you to write some down. You also recall her persuasion was futile.

Now you are in your 30s, that year in school was a half a lifetime ago. But you have not changed. You still believe that if you wanted to change anything – you just get to it. Don’t wait for the new year, and don’t pretend the new year would do anything for you. In fact, as a Singaporean with Chinese Indian ancestry, you have THREE new years. The 1 Jan (Gregorian calendar), the Chinese New Year (LuniSolar calendar), and the Indian New Year (Lunar calendar). If we went by the practice of new year = new resolutions. Does that mean you have THREE of them within the first 2 months of the Gregorian calendar?! Doesn’t leave you much type to resolve them…

If you haven’t figure it out yet, you really do not believe in the setting of resolutions for the new year. Also, you quietly admit to yourself, you hardly ever have any resolutions…

BUT this 2024, you do!!! As for New Year resolutions, it just so happened to coincide. A serendipitous event for all who believe in such resolutions. Because you seem to have finally got on board. But frankly, it's because you are about to embark on the Journey to the cent…Down Under. You have decided to leave your comfort zone – leaving your job and home, for some kind of adventure whose results are unknown. Given, you have chosen such a direction, you have decided to shake up your life. No more vampirically holing yourself up in your room, no more being a proud lazy-ass couch potato. You will meet people! You will learn new things! You will exercise! You will not hole yourself up in a dark room.

Guess what? Some were so easily met; you feel you are doing amazing.

1.       Exercise – where you stay is a slight walk to the free trams. Also, it is central enough that walking might be faster than taking the tram. So far, there is hardly any day in which you do not hit 10,000 steps. Melbourne city is also on a gentle incline, not flat.

2.       No dark rooms to hide in – that was super easy. The room you rented has a stupid distorted glass square window (that can’t open) with no curtains. It is summer – it is always bright. Actually, you wear sunglasses in your room…(P.S. your mother is very happy you do not stay in your room)

3.       Meet People – okay this takes work. BUT hey – you have to housemates! Isn’t that meeting people?

If you are into pasta and meatballs, then this might be up your alley. The menu’s focus is on meatballs – there are beef, pork, chicken, venison, fish…Whatever, meat you choose, it will be turned into three humongous meatballs. The meatballs are then accompanied by your choice of carbo, mostly various pasta types including gnocchi, but you did spy Polenta on the menu. Lastly, the sauce type – you recall there were a few sauces, but you only remember carbonara which is what you got for yourself.  Are there other things on the menu? Of course, but if the shop sign says Fish & Chips, please do not buy a burger. Unless the shop sign was ironic in nature.

Naturally, you go for a meatball and pasta dish. Pork and tagliatelle to be exact. So, what's the verdict?

Service: Friendly but they are very busy even on a weekday, 8PM slot. SO do reserve a table if you can.

Ambience: pretty standard setting of wood-finish with a mix of high-tables, standard couple/group tables and outdoor sitting. I would say it sits between romantic and casual.

Taste: The pasta was perhaps a minute away from being a perfect al dente. The carbonara sauce simple but add some chilli oil and it was lovely. The meatball itself? A little on the dry side, but unfortunately that is what often happens if you use non-beef alternatives for meatballs, as often the pork or chicken would have too little fats to make it juicy on its own. The meatballs were marinated with sage, fennel and orange. The sage and fennel were a nice choice to balance out the pork flavour. Unfortunately, the orange did not really stand out – I could imagine the enhancement of flavour if the citrus notes could shine through.

Price: $30+ for a meal, think $40 with drinks.

Worth a re-visit?: Not my cup of tea, but if you are into meatballs and pasta, you might enjoy it more than me. The portions are substantial, I took home half of mine for another meal. So its value for your money all things considered. But not on the top of my ‘re-visit’ list.

The Meatball and Wine Bar

135 Flinders Lane, CBD, Melbourne Victoria 3000

www.meatballandwinebar.com.au

You have a cousin living in Melbourne. She beat you to the working holiday visa, she has extended it past the limit of 3 years, and she enjoys life here over Singapore. You do not blame her; her career is taking off here better than back home and she has a lovely fat cat to keep her company in her apartment. Now, when was the last you really spoke to her? Frankly, years ago. Sure, there is the occasional “how is life going” chat you do at Christmas parties, but that’s about. The last you truly hung out and played was when you were little kids having stayovers and zoo visits. Your best memory? Seeing her beat your other same-aged cousin (male) in “WWE” wrestling matches at our grandparents. It totally makes sense therefore that she has found a love for boxing and goes 5 days a week…

Anyhow, you finally are in the same country for more than a few days, in the SAME city and not exactly far away. But individual lives and hobbies keeps you away. To put it simply, you rather do a trial class on Salsa over Boxing (see my upcoming-ish post). But you promise her one day you will make the trek to the South parts of the city in the morning and do a trial boxing class. One day.

Her birthday looms and you make arrangements to have a meal together. The least you can do, right? Being in the same city helps with bonding to some levels. Now the lovely cousin of yours overbooks her weekend and so we settle for a Thursday evening, 8pm. Is that late? Of course! Does she know its late, naturally! But sighs…when she chooses boxing > food, you can’t help it. Since it's her birthday, you agree to a late dinner and plan for late lunch, so you won’t go hungry. Skipping lunch, would have been fine for the portions are huge at the place you visit! (See Review of Meatballs and Wine Bar).

Tucked in an alley, do be careful not to miss the turning. It has no visible signage and is beside a dumpster. Look out for a neuro diversity mural, people loitering with a takeaway coffee cup and the queues, and you know you are in the right place. A little tiny place artfully done, with plenty of staff to keep up with the queues. Friendly, cheerful and busy.

As a non-coffee drinker, you can’t pass judgment on them. If the queues are to be a good KPI, then yes, the coffee is good. Every other person who walks in besides you had come for just the coffee. A shame really, as their cardamom twist is amazing. Yet, you are also glad it is not very popular for its pastries yet, or you may have none to buy!

You plan to order 1 but for good measure get 2 instead. The lady passes it to you with some sparkling water to quench your thirst. You find a nice spot by the open window and enjoy the moment.

Eventually however, you decide a quieter place with a bench would fit you better when it comes to savouring the yummy bun.

Service: Tip-top despite the hectic business they do. They have adequate staffing for its popularity.

Taste: Think of a cinnamon bun but cardamom instead. Dense with a heft but not doughy and dry. The glaze is spiced, and you have nice crunchy bites of crystalised sugar and crushed cardamom. This is a stunner for lovers of spice and cinnamon buns.

Price: $6 for a bun.

Worth a re-visit: Definitely!

Patricia Coffee Brewers

493-495 Little Bourke Street, Melbourne Victoria 3000

www.patriciacoffee.com.au

Melbourne’s café culture is famous – it has made avocado toast trendy worldwide and coffee drinkers enjoy their special go-to place that is not Starbucks, Costas, Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf…you get the picture, there is enough non-international franchises to satisfy you.

Covid-19 had its lockdowns. The world stopped moving at one point. It had hurt the world in such a devastating continuous manner. BUT it had breather life to Melbourne’s café culture. More home-bakers popped up and a good number succeeded into beign a new addition to the café scene.

Part of your plan in Melbourne naturally is to check out the cafés. This goes beyond the brands known back home like Koko Black and Lune. Bibelot too is already an old-hand. Now its time to check out the ‘hipster ones’ that is new to YOU not to others.

But of course, it rains and rains the next day as well. You postponed your trip twice and on the 3rd day, you decided, its time to be a Melbourn-ite. Heck care to the weather, and go café hopping.

First stop, Bakemono Bakery. Reminiscent of a cute shop in a Japanese town, it has the vibes. You enter and you find out at 11.30am that all but the canelé which you have little care for is sold out. What’s worst, its famous garlic bread is no longer in production. The blasphemy!

You hate how your distaste for hyped up hippie places is made truer with this incident. Who sells out at 1130am!! It’s a common thing by the way, so like umm make more! But ok, to each his own. You may or may not, visit Bakemono Bakery to give it a fair rating one day. For now, its where Lune is on your list of go-tos. Not very high.

You now walk to the other end of Melbourne city for another hide-away. Even more articulately hidden, back alley, beside a dumpster…the queues however attest to its popularity. Patricia Coffee Brewers – famous for its coffee and indeed it seems like very ‘HOT’. The queues never stopped, the staff behind the little counter numerous to its size. Coffee after coffee is brewed.

You, however, are not here for coffee. You don’t drink coffee. Nope, you are here for its pastry. To be precise, cardamom twist. It has been a long time since you had cardamom flavoured bread – the last being in UK at a Finnish bakery. The staff is quick but friendly. They pass you your bread and offer you free sparkling water. You find a nice spot by the window, take some pictures, have a bite and look out at the neuro diversity mural on autism. Quite a nice mural, really. Educational and artful. You people watch, have you drink and then head to Flagstaff Gardens to polish off the rest of your bun. Its nice the shop, just well noisy.

The walk you make for your errands is simple. Turn left, turn right, go straight. But sometimes, you get caught up in the moment. Maybe these Marxist Socialist Club fervently trying to entice you is one of those. You miss you turning. Luckily, Melbourne CBD is mostly a grid, you take the next into a small one – Tattlelane. A little graffiti, a little hippie spot, Korean BBQ. Quite the street of Melbourne. For every main alley, there will always be the little ones with graffiti art and hidden-gems.

Have you hiked before, of course. Have you done 20km non-stop with incline for most part, not really. Did you know what you were in for, NO.

It’s the weekend, and the temperatures have dipped to its mid-twenties. Your alarm goes off at 6am. You groan and your hand tap dances over the bedside table searching for a silent disco. You eventually switch the alarm off, curl up with the phone in hand wanting to snooze. Then you hear your cousin’s alarm go off, and you slowly push yourself up and out of bed.

Yes it is 6am on a weekend and you plan to be on the road by 6.30am for it’s a long journey to Wilsons Prom. Think 3 hours to the entrance of the reserve.

The drive is uneventful, you groan at the roadworks putting the car at 40km/h for a good 30min. You fall asleep – always great not to be the driver. When you awake, its closer to 8.30am and you are almost at the destination. But first a quick toilet bread and breakfast at a pitstop.

Soon you enter Wilsons Prom (to be exact, Promontory). You have reached Victoria’s frontier and the relatively unscathed raw beauty of nature is before you. You soon head up a trail which reads 2.5km to Fairy Cove and 4km to the tip where cliff meets sea.  

Trek no. 1: Hello Nature!

You think, that’s doable! You’ve done more. You jauntily set of taking lead and soon discover the unique sandy and rocky of walking in bush trails. It will be your first time on such hiking grounds – most of your experience being forest/jungle trails.

10 minutes in and you mention to your cousin and his girlfriend, that it is a good thing your aunt chose to not go. For the incline is not a joke. Less than 10 minutes later, you get dizzy, your breath unregulated and you call for a stop. For the first time, you end up crouching on the ground trying to regulate your out-of-whack breathing. Your cousin says we could turn back and you look at him in horror – ‘turn back! We aren’t even halfway there!’. Two factors to this – climbing up seems to have been hard on you since you caught covid, your fitness at an all time low and that’s saying something given you aren’t very fit to begin with. The 2nd factor – the steep incline on a very jaunty speed, such a rookie mistake.

You eventually catch your breath and the incline tapers. You enjoy the rest on a relatively easier trek. Such is the trail to Fairy Cove – difficulty goes from hard to easy.

As you go up higher into the hills, you the ground starts turning rocky, the plants more desert-like. You see some dried out, some lush and green, some remnants after a bush fire. In some spots you think the fire to be a controlled one to prevent further spreads for it seemed to clinical the burns.

You come across the beautiful view of the coast when you climb high enough and you are greeted by boulders with facial features, they remind you of easter island. Some plants you recognise from you educational trip to Gardens by the Bay, others you don’t.

Eventually the trail splits and a marker points right for Fairy Cove – you hear the laughter of children by the bay and you think, we must be near. The marker says 1km to Fairy Cove. You look at your Fitbit, you have already covered more than 3km…What a lie those markers have!!!! You swear the markers meant perpendicular distance, the shortest and impossible route to Fairy Cove…

Your aim however is the tip of the cliff, and so you soldier on with your two walking buddies. It plateaus a little and so the walk is easier, you chit-chat, drink and, greet other walkers.  In this semi-zoned out state, you cousin suddenly exclaims and raises his hand out to stop you.

Upfront, slithers a pretty decent sized brown snake. It heads towards you in smooth wave-like motion. FYI brown snakes are poisonous. You keep calm, back off and turn back. The trip to the tip to catch amazing views culled by a very lively brown snake, your first true animal sighting on this trek. Do you have pictures? Hell no! you believe in Keep Calm and Move on not Keep Ridiculously Calm and Take Pictures.

On your way back you see more people. You kindly warn them of the brown snake and move on. The groups you see are true to Australia’s eclecticism. Some in hiking gear, others showing off their amazing abs in gym clothes, and more uniquely two in slippers, shorts, tank tops and drinking beer.

You eventually reach the crazy incline portion (going down is always easier) and you happily knock into the very same tree you hit on the way up. Worse part, both times you ducked your head, both times you didn’t duck low enough…Such an embarrassing scene is capture by a group heading up. They are panting, sweating and looking ready to call it quits, so lucky for you they did not care to note of your ‘knock into tree’ moment. Instead, a girl asks you while panting, how much further is it.

You: mmm, *looks at Fitbit distance counter* it’s about 7km more, to and fro from here.

She: 7km!!! *looks ahead and despairs*

You: it gets better once you get past this point, all the best with your walk!

Later, you laugh with your cousin and ask, ‘do you think she will make it to Fairy Cove?’.

Trek no. 2: Hello IG worthy View

You move on to a famous viewpoint – Mount Oberon. For you Mt. Oberon is a fun name, it reminds you of the game Avalon and the ‘Oberon’ amongst your friends. Indeed Oberon is deceptive without knowing it. A 4km walk (accurate this time), it brings you on a constant but doable incline upwards. That it is till the last 0.5km or so. You been going on a constant spiral motion upwards when suddenly the trees give way to an open space up top. Then you look up. Yes, there are now stairs to get to the ‘top-top’.

Is it hard? Not exactly, most can do it. You dare say, even your parents getting on their years could, if they took it slow. Just maybe not those with difficulty walking, which makes you wonder with the way the trails are done at Wilson Prom, who will ever use the ‘wheelchair friendly’ parking lots?

Unfortunately, the trio of healthy of a young enough age, trekked upwards with heavy legs. As easy as described, it really isn’t a walk in the park after doing 7km of tough trekking. To the aches are coming at you as you plod on.

The view, before the top is nothing amazing. Boring to be the best descriptor. It reminds you of running around the track, the only thing keeping it fun is the conversations between the three. For example, talking about a lost hat being Ed Sheeren’s lol.

You eventually make it to the top, and all of a sudden it goes from warm to COLD. The gust of winds so strong, your hat floats up and thankfully you catch it before it floats away…

Trek no. 3: Hello kangaroos! Wallabies! Animals! Eh no hello bushland…

Finally, you stop at a place known for animal sightings. Your cousin came up before and said they were everywhere! Except they weren’t. You go off the beaten path, walk right through bushes. But all you see is the vast plains of bushland and dried animal droppings. Clearly, the past few days of near 40C heat had scared them into hiding or killed them as your cousin morbidly guesses. You choose to believe in the former, just hiding from PLAIN sight. Cos its FLAT and practically bare. Where could they hide? So animal sighting (ignoring the crows) – 1 Brown Snake. Animal count – pathetic. Animal sighting excitement – heart racing 150bpm inducing brown snake. Worth it? Of course!

Trek no. 4: the last bits that gave you the nice total of 20km