And a freshly shucked Coffin Bay oyster at that.

On a night when I was supposed to be at a meeting, but the meeting didn’t happen, I suddenly found myself with a free evening stretching out in front of me.

When the possibilities are endless, it is best to consult a friend and just allow yourself to be guided.

And so it was that I found myself ringing the bell at the black door on Flinders Lane, over a year after the first thwarted attempt. This first attempt involving romantic intentions, a lost bag, subsequent credit card cancelling, tears and a detour on the evening. It is always a good idea to rectify regrets.

If you can.

 

Briny and sweet at the same time. A plump and delicious accompaniment to the Wabi Sabi cocktail I chose, largely perhaps, because of its name. Also because it has Brooklyn gin (I have a particular penchant for Brooklyn), apple liqueur, apple and mango, tonic and wasabi. Refreshingly crisp, deceptively light with a slight sparkle and a cunning afternote of heat from the wasabi, I was happy to have been seduced by the name.

Next was the exotic sounding ‘Cuban’ Spicy Tuna Cigar. Finely minced tuna mixture inside a crispy wafer shell with a soupçon of wasabi to finish.

 

Having reached the end of the Wabi Sabi, I decided I needed to become better acquainted with sake. Hihou has a range of warm and cool sake. I let the bartender decide for me and he advised the cool and subtle takaisami.

With its slightly apple tones, which seems to have become a theme of my beverage choice for the evening, the takaisami was an excellent companion to my two remaining tastes, the steamed vegetarian gyoza with ponzu sauce and the eel and tofu croquette with tonkatsu sauce.

The croquette was by far the stand-out taste of the evening. Crunchy outer shell with a beautifully smoky textured filling. And the sauce. The tonkatsu sauce was a revelation. A savoury sweet mix of tomato, prunes, dates, apples, lemons, carrots, onion and celery, I wanted to lick the plate clean.

As the last rays of sun dropped below the treeline of the Treasury Gardens opposite, and the complimentary warm plum wine, offered perhaps because I was alone in one of Melbourne’s most romantic bars, took hold, I felt as though I had been part of a secret. But it is a secret I don’t want to keep to myself.

Find someone sweet and take them to the corner of Flinders Lane and Spring Street, ring the bell and allow loveliness to take over.

Perspective. It has a lot going for it.

How we see things, or more importantly, how we choose to see things can depend on a lot. I wonder, perhaps, if it’s about training ourselves to look for the good and not be bowled over by the negative.

I like to think I am optimistic, a seeker of possibility, a practitioner of wonder and awe, but sometimes I have a habit of noticing and dwelling on the one dark cloud I see in an otherwise blue sky. Maybe it’s when I am tired. Or already a little emotional for whatever reason. The scales tip in favour of the half empty glass.

Last night I went to the fifth Dinner Project. I have been to three of them. I have written about it here before.  The Dinner Project is an Australian not-for-profit venture raising money for charities through dinners created by chefs who donate their time, energy and innovation for the greater good. Chef, Thi Li started the Project in Sydney, brought it to Melbourne and has been very ably assisted here by pastry chef, Kimberly Chin. 

Today I went to Sunshine.

Having expressed a desire to know more about Vietnamese food and cooking, I was lucky enough to be invited to be part of a Vietnamese family’s preparation for a birthday lunch.

Tom Yum soup paste made from scratch, barbecued seafood, sweet potato glass noodles, and a lot of leafy greens and chewy mushrooms.

The extended family stretches to at least 20 people and I was told that with that many people, there is always a birthday. This is a good thing. Having spent the morning watching and inhaling and tasting and chatting and learning, I had to leave before lunch was actually served. This lovely family, horrified that I would miss out, have invited me to go back in two weeks for another birthday lunch and this time, I must stay for the day.

 

I am not sure this was the case last night. The second offering was substantial and contained a lot which I would have called traditional. Incredible flavours and textures, but there was a lot there. I enjoyed the contrast of the salty toasted oats against the vanilla foam and vanilla ice cream with marmalade jelly and spice orange and brown sugar crumble but it did overwhelm me.

When you are 12, 358 kilometres from the birthplace of the food you are eating, it pays to go with an expert. And I am lucky that I could.

Orleans bar and restaurant in Auckland’s Britomart offers an ambient soupcon of Louisiana style. As much as it can, from so far away.

First up, a jug of big, easy punch. I wouldn’t have chosen this from looking at the menu, but as I say, when you go with one who knows, whole worlds are opened. This icy jug of Damson vodka mixed with blackberries, lemon juice, mint and Root Beer transported me from the chilly Auckland evening to a much headier time and place in the southern states.

Now Root Beer is a fairly specific taste. And a fairly specific primary ingredient, that being the root of the sassafras tree. My first thought was wintergreen, and I have just discovered that I wasn’t wrong in that sensory conclusion. Most commercial root beers have replaced sassafras extract with methyl salicylate, the chemical compound found in wintergreen. Interesting.

And refreshing alongside the slight tartness of the lemon juice, the warmth of the vodka, the freshness of the mint and the burgeoning serving of blackberries resting on top. I liked it.

Next came the decision about food. Orleans offers various options. Small bowls; their obvious counterpart, big bowls; po boys and side bowls.

We went for a small bowl and two big bowls and that was plenty, both in terms of flavour and satiety.

I wanted the Nola BBQ shrimp for two reasons. One, BBQ shrimp just sounds cajun/creole to me. Two, I’m reading a book which features a girl called Nola. Ah, the subtle power of the written word. Nice touch with the presentation, a basket with a fictional June 19th newspaper page and the beady eyes of the prawns just asking for fingers to get dirty with the peeling and extracting of slightly spicy and very buttery flesh. Food interaction is good interaction. Textures and tastes a symbiotic entwining.

(Now I realise that I headed down a fairly verbose line there. Basically, I like having to work for the food and the shrimp was delicious.)

Next was the Big Easy Gumbo, which made two Big Easy choices in our evening. I am guessing that you may well be more enlightened than I, but I have only just learned that The Big Easy is a nickname for New Orleans, and possibly a reference by musicians in the 1900s to the relative ease of finding work there, as well as describing the slower, more carefree nature of the city when compared to larger cities like New York. Perhaps if I had been more assiduous in my cinematic education and had watched the 1986 crime thriller, The Big Easy, I would have discovered this fact much earlier. Learning. Every day.

Back to the Gumbo. Chicken, Andouille, clams, shrimp, soft shell crab. Traditionally gumbo has a strong flavoured stock, meat or shellfish and vegetables. Sometimes rice is added, as in this case. Gumbo is a hearty, fragrant stew originally made from leftover meat or shellfish, some stock and some rice. AN economical and filling meal. The Big Easy Gumbo was a little more fancy pants than that. Tasty and certainly comprising the elements and feel of a gumbo. But having had gumbo cooked by the aforementioned expert, I can’t say that Orleans provided the best example I have had.

And lastly the sticky pork ribs with BBQ sauce. And I don’t have a photo of these as once they were placed on the table, the tactile eater in me couldn’t wait to get my hands on and my mouth around the smoky, succulent meat. Just picture ribs. On a board. Being very tasty.

No room for an aptly named Sweet Bowl, but if we had wanted a sweet finish, there is a variety of cheesecake, cookie sandwich, butterscotch pot, maple bread pudding or sweet pie offerings.

And just to leave you with a thought from the creole world, there is a proverb rom that part of the world that goes something along the lines of bon temps fait crapaud manqué bounda, which, if you haven’t been learning creole on your Duolingo iPhone app means: ‘idleness leaves the frog without buttocks’. Which has nothing to do with anything, but it’s making you think, isn’t it?