Chow, Restaurant 88, Tequila Joe’s, Duke Carvell’s Emporium
Just got home from a night out with the girls, or suppose I should say women: my sister-in-law Kathryn, mutual friend and fellow Food Night devotee Stacey, and the baby of the group, my 32 year old sister Victoria.
The hex seems to have passed. No earthquakes, no fire alarms and no storms. Roofs, roads and infrastructure unharmed. We weren’t asked to leave anywhere, though not everyone was letting us in, claiming, as they did, to be closing or out of tables.
Stacey had suggested we start with cocktails and so, like the innocent little fluffy white lambs we are, our tails waggling behind us, we arranged to meet her at Chow for two for one cocktails.
To those many who are enamoured with Chow’s famous Rosebuds, I have but two words: Hazelnut Sours. And another two: Seriously good.
For those who don’t do nuts, my sympathies and the last two words: Pomegranate Cosmopolitans.
I wish I had taken pictures for you, but sorry, too busy drinking.
Next stop was popular Vietnamese Restaurant 88. The surroundings were stylish, the service was polite and friendly, if lacking somewhat in confidence.
We started with a range of appetisers: sugar cane prawns, beautifully light pork & prawn dumplings, the ubiquitous fresh spring rolls, coconut battered calamari and, finally, sticky rice fritters with “Saucy Lemongrass Chicken”. I found the texture of the rice fritters appealing, but the chicken neither particularly lemongrassy nor particularly saucy, in all a bit of a disappointment.
There was an odd confusion surrounding our intention to share, the fact that we had five starters for four of us, and, finally, a question as to whether the five plates would fit on the table (which they did without difficulty, and would have done even if two of our dishes had not been served on the same platter).
When the starters eventually arrived, they were tasty enough, but my overall impression was that the food was perhaps dulled down for western tastes.
Of the two main course dishes that appealed to us, the pithily named “Saigon Banana Leaf Wrapped Grilled Chilli Spiced Fish” was out for the night, so we made for Havana Bar and the promise of tapas.
On the way, we happened in on relative newcomer Tequila Joe’s.
Tequila Joe’s strength may turn out to be it’s size. It’s small. The kind of small that makes it easier to create atmosphere without losing authenticity.
If the bar is small, the kitchen spaces are tiny. Think food-truck tiny. But if our chips and dips where anything to go by, size is not getting in anyone’s way.
The chili con queso held its own. The chips were warm, fresh, crisp and delicious. The guacamole possibly the best I’ve ever had, though it pains me to say it, including my own. Can’t wait to try the fish tacos.
There was more fun on the drinks front. These may come to you in a jam jar, which I’m guessing is next best to a real mason jar, those being comparatively costly in these parts. It’s a cute little nod to Americana, although my I suspect our Pennsylvania-born Kate may have been wondering just a little where the rest of the trailer park fixings had gone. What went into the jars and glasses was good too. I would have had another Caipirinha had it not been for the earlier drinks of the evening and an abiding desire to get home on my own feet.
The music was well suited to our generation with Springsteen, Led Zeppelin, David Bowie, not all American, but contributing 70s grunt to the American atmosphere nevertheless.
It’s been a long time, I could have been in a little bar state-side, I’m just not sure which one. With it’s clean lines, part of the bar speaks of fresh American sophistication, the paintings hint at a more stylised Mexican influence, and the rest makes me want to park my hog (OK, I had a red tricycle once) out the front.
I’m not sure these three elements are quite speaking to each other yet. Perhaps in time. Perhaps they don’t need to. Perhaps this is the feel of the modern Californian bar. In any case, even with the a couple of licence plates on the wall, this is not another one of those Happy-Days-wanna-be, nostalgia-flogging American/Texan/Country themed bars. And amen to that.
After the Tequila Joe’s experience, we wandered along to Havana, but the restaurant was closed and the bar was packed, Olive and El Matador were also shut and Ombra didn’t have table space for four. This was our good luck as we eventually wound up with a cosy spot at Duke Carvell’s Emporium on Swan Lane.
Cleverly decorated to give the impression of having been there forever, Duke Carvell’s is one of those places you can go and sit, talk, eat, drink, people watch, listen to music and even play a game of scrabble (not that you would necessarily want to, but the set is there if you do).
Warm focaccia filled any remaining gaps. I’m glad I didn’t ask for my usual trim hot chocolate, because the creamy, chocolatey, but not too sweet chocolate they served me made for a perfect dessert with a neat frangelico on the side.
And so, gentle reader, off to bed. Tomorrow is the last day of the school holidays, and I know two little girls who will want to make the most of it.
Life Lived Lavishly 