I tried, honestly, I did try.
I've been avoiding - well, trying to avoid - talking about this 'meeting' I just had with a friend from you-know-where...
So, I've just come from a live Zoom thing with JES the supremely-talented NY 'trance/dance' DJ, Sunday very 'late nite' style down here. And part of the conversation there bounces off one of the track titles: 'Why We're Broke!' LOL
JES, super-talented house, trance music DJ from NY. Tends not to drink alcohol - mostly lime-infused water... |
Meanwhile, the day before, one of our long-term 'colleagues' in this space right here (Ssh, don't tell anyone) - one 'Bill Smith' - has just sent me over literally a full case of select Australian Shiraz.
...Here I am then, eyes a bit bleary already without even having had a drop at all yet, and with a Hardy's Shiraz (recent vintage) in one hand, blindly walking around the city streets but near to the Fujitsu HO here (damn, have I given something away again? Never mind), because that was the 'co-ordinates,' and suddenly this black BMW M3 pulls up next to me, and the white-gloved Korean driver slides his window down and tells me 'get in.' 'Please.' 'Sir.'
So I get in the rear because that door popped open and who should be in there, inside the very dark space in there despite it is morning, albeit overcast, and there are bush fires raging on the hills so the air is full of toasted eucalyptus and wattle smoke... ...who should be right in there but you-know-someone-who-I-wasn't-sure-which-one-of-what.
And we go round the block exactly just one time and stop not very far from where I had been to begin with and she gets out and I get out, and we walk down a little side-alley to a private dining room place with black wrought iron gates, basically it is a place off Queen Street.
It's not any of the public places or any known places, but a private room behind all of those.
Anyway, we are seated by this kid - effectively - must have been eighteen.
This is the actual place, but right down the side-alley there, past more, much larger and heavier gates... |
He's all dressed up like a Paris waiter. Nice gear. Not tight like they do with all of the fake 'bespoke' suits nowadays.
Gel this, jelly that. It's all 'gels and jellies' with these people. Not complaining, very tasty, but not um, 'Bjorn Bull-Hansen out in the woods wild-men' meals...
But then, all of a sudden, we are plated up with deep sea thick white flaked fish Almondine, but I sense something 'out of the box' with just two mouthfuls and I had to go 'hey hey hey nah nah nah, wait a minute - what is this? What have you done with this sauce?'
Was just ridiculously mind-bogglingly outstandingly good and different, although sort of 'the same' too so that you could rapaciously enjoy it without worrying that it was something so different.
What was going on with this sauce?? Wasn't anything herb-y making any difference. It was the alcohol in the buttery creme fraiche with what was it - lemon wine vinegar as well...? And then they stuck some deep fried battered salt-and-pepper squid on the side with clove spicy plum and wine confit thing, whatever.
So this old old guy comes out, old French guy, and says 'just some limited supply house brand vermouth and three kinds of pepper and three kinds of melted cheese. And I roasted the almonds in truffle-infused farmhouse olive oil.'
This is the honey Almondine sauce. Just as good, but slightly different again. |
And then the Hardy's of course. You wouldn't think 'with fish' but yeah, it does work - quite light, soft, very drinkable right now.
"Do you know why we are here celebrating?" She asks me at length.
"Nope. Why?"
"Do you know what day it is?"
Shook my head. I didn't know what day it was, other than 'Monday.' So I said "Monday? It's Monday?"
"Yes it is, John. It is Monday, 19 April - Perth Regatta Day."
"Oh." That did surprise me because I talked about this incident of local history to people every now and then to remind them all about the folklore of our history here to do with it and that even the pretty decent Wiki entry was not altogether complete of an account. But, hey, a few odd souls in the Australian Labor Party would know which day it all was 'on' way back in history now -, 1876. Not me, shame on me too. Well, I did know now.
She raised her eyebrows and her glass of Bill's Shiraz.
Mr Deeds: 'You are very sneaky." "Oh jes, I am, berry berry sneaky." |
"To Bill Smith," she toasted.
"Bill Smith.' I concurred.
"To Admiral John Boyd O'Reilly." She added.
And we readily drank again.
"You'll be able to find your own way home, yes? I have to leave now."
"Oh okay. Sure. Is there dessert?"
...And coffee. There was coffee. And other things I'm not going to tell you about.