SmikG’s got her balls back

November 14, 2014November 23, 2014 / smikg / Leave a comment

Because for a while, I seemed to have lost them.

To explain, and make a short story even shorter, I’m in the midst of a HUGE photo inventory where I’m collecting all matter of photos from all matter of devices from the past couple of years, and printing them out to organise into photo albums. Yes, I still DO photo albums.

So I remembered I had a couple of photos on my facebook account that weren’t mine, uploaded by my family and friends, and so I went searching, one night earlier this week, through the years of 2012, 2013, and now, to find them.

What I found was astonishing. My journey had been for one thing, yet in the midst of it all, I had somehow accidentally though very appropriately discovered something completely different. Apt. I found that I once, had gusto. Guts. A loud voice. An opinion.

Balls, as such.

In amongst photos, and check-ins, and posters friends and family were putting up on my wall, I was looking at my past status updates… and wow. I actually had completely forgotten that I used to write like that. That that’s how I put my feelings and my thoughts out. A lot of it was just “BLAH!” An outburst, a sudden feeling that I clearly just hit ‘post’ on and let the world see what I was feeling at the time, with no censorship.

It was almost like reading about another person’s life. Reading these status updates, I was amazed, embarrassed and proud all at different times. Most of all, I was inspired. I was like ‘damn it! I wanna get back to that place.’

Without realising it, all this time I had lost it. I thought back to how, and why, and when it was that things changed. I think it was a combination of things. We’ve had life, we’ve had death, blah, blah – without trivialising any of those important life changes, I think those were some major factors that affected my habits. I got personal, secretive, and not willing to let the world, just ‘anyone’ into our private, intimate world of troubles, fears, hopes and joys. The world and all of its hurts and happiness,’ made me just a little withdrawn, just a little scared, of EVERYTHING. Both fear, and love, made me go into myself. Both of those emotions can make you feel so much.

That, along with the addition of some of my annoying facebook ‘friends’ posting shit like

“my 175 month old is just so cute today, I can just squash him!” (constant annoying posts about child and updates on them every 45 minutes)

“I am just so upset, I wanna die.” (attention seeker alert)

“I just went to the front door, and found a parcel waiting for me!” (grasping at straws, why are you posting vague bullshit?)

“my husband is just the best, I love him soooo much! (hiding the fact of marital woes)

(And then there are those that post 280 photos of their child’s first days in this world, which made me want to quite frankly NEVER upload photos of my baby girl).

All this pretense, and lying, and just whole lotta BS drove me right up the wall, and made me want to never in any way be like THEM.

(Life’s purpose: do not be a sheep).

I’m thinking now though, I can still be myself. I’ll never be like them, because I have more self-awareness. And yes, some may even say that blogging is also a pretense. However I think the blogging world, from what I’ve experienced of it anyway, is a lot more deeper than the superficiality and “look at me relaxing by the pool on the island getaway trip-of-a-lifetime holiday” showing-off that occurs on facebook, the bragging that often covers up things we never learn about.

I think of it in relation to myself. I have put up photos of myself, with Hubbie, with baby girl. And although everything looks great and all ideal in the photos, no one can see, no one knows of the background story: how for example, before we took that photo out during lunch on that gorgeous perfect Sunday, baby girl was cracking it at home because she was tired. I look good in the photos, but no one knows I was in my pyjamas ‘til 11:30am because I was doing dishes, rinsing washing, and kept changing baby girl’s nappy because she kept filling it up. We look refreshed, but that’s because we had coffee, and no one knows how she’s been getting up at night, and how it takes me 5 minutes just to creep out of her room at night and close the door quietly, in fear that any noise will wake her up and I’ll have to do the whole thing all over again – and that’s just the leaving the room part. Don’t ask me how I get her to sleep. We look put-together in that photo, but seriously, you should see our house, when we’re NOT expecting visitors. And I’m smiling, but you don’t want to enter my mind and hear the demons I’ve been struggling with for the past few weeks, the internal to and froes that’s made me seriously consider seeing a psychologist.

All of this, is not often spoken of. On facebook, certainly not. In the blogging world however, refreshingly it is.

I’ve diverged a bit. All in all, I’ve had enough. I’ve had enough of being quiet. I’ve had enough of letting other’s crap affect the way I live my life. I’m coming out, in the most fantastic fashion, and I don’t give a flying fuck what anyone says anymore.

If I cause trouble, then so bloody be it. Better out than in.

The balls they are a swaying.

Dear, Darling

November 7, 2014November 9, 2014 / smikg / 2 Comments

Literate for a Day

She’s now at the age where although she’s not so verbal as yet, I think she understands a lot more than what we realise, or what we give her credit for. It makes me think we need to swear less, and teach more.

Nonetheless, if I knew she were to understand my every word, I would write this:

Dear, Darling

You are our sunshine, our only sunshine. But more than that. You are the sun that lights up the world with its beauty, and the stars that sparkle on all those who view them. You are the moon that bathes the darkness with a soft glow, and the clouds that protect against the extreme heat. You have the entire Universe inside of you, my Darling, and know that you can do, you can be, you can achieve anything you set your mind to. If you can dream it, you can do it.

Reach high, my dear. Reach so high that your arms hurt. With a heart full of love and passion, hope and desire, seek out the things that make you happy. Don’t let anything come between you and what sets your soul alight.

Choose love. It is so easy to be angered by all of life’s trivialities. So choose love Darling. Show the world that you are the better person, and that no matter what, you will always gets up, you will always show up.

Keep smiling. It is your best feature, and the world is reminded of its intention when your face lights up. Make the lives of those around you happier, lighter, and kinder with your beautiful presence. But most of all do it for you, for you are the One and Only you must look after most. If you are happy, everyone is happy with you.

And lastly, know that you have the love of your Mummy and Daddy inside you, forever. No matter what happens, and where life leads you, you are a physical manifestation of our love, and you are made OF us. We live through you, forever, and you carry on the tradition and the memories, of those lost long ago. You have so much love inside of you, love that can change the world. Believe in yourself, and know that your wildest dreams can come true.

I love you Darling Girl. You will always be my baby girl.

(and then she would bow her head towards me and we would bump heads).

Sightings of People as Passionate about (Addicted to) Coffee as I am (SOPAPACAIA) Introduction

November 6, 2014November 14, 2014 / smikg / Leave a comment

Appropriate that I should begin this series whilst in a caffeine-induced state.

And so, fortunately for me on this day, after a frustrating night of restless sleep due to:

– Baby girl crying out intermittently in the middle of the night (don’t blame it on the boogie, blame it on the teeth)
– Random idiots yelling outside on the street at 1am in the morning (go home dicks)
– Being too hot under the covers
– And the garbage collection starting early this morning, followed by my equally early work wake-up call

I have a most delightfully prepared cappuccino situated at my left. All is right in the world again.

There is my intro, let us now begin…

Happiness Is… #6

October 29, 2014 / smikg / Leave a comment

Purpley-flowered trees. Discovering nature on your doorstep.

It’s now become the norm that when I arrive back at home with baby girl after our late morning/midday shop, even though the car drive is no more than 5 minutes, she’s asleep when I turn off the ignition.

Today was no different. I did the usual: taking in the shopping while keeping a watchful eye on her, as well as one car door open to maintain the breeze in the developing heat.

After I was done I came back to stare at her sleeping in the car. I just couldn’t do it, I couldn’t pick her up and bring her in. I knew she would wake up if I brought her inside, and so I decided that standing there for about 30 minutes would give her the somewhat decent nap she needed.

It was while standing there that I realised the scent in the air: without thinking about it all too much my mind went ‘lavender.’ I looked around, knowing full well that there is no lavender of any sort bordering our property, then noticed the tree in the middle of our nature strip out front. It had purple flowers.

I had never really noticed it before. Yes Spring has been around for a while now, but these minute flowers were indistinct, and I just know that they’d taken some time to develop. That with my tunnel vision, says a bit.

I went up to them and smelled them. The scent wasn’t overwhelming, but there was a similarity to lavender. I was excited. I also noticed that the tree was harbouring little fruit-like seeds too.

I thought we had a regular green tree out front, when in fact it’s a purple, nice-smelling tree. Not quite lavender, but it’s good enough for me.

7 Reasons why my Daughter is a Cat

October 17, 2014 / smikg / Leave a comment

1. She LOVES milk and cheese. She guzzles her milk and you should see the way she feeds herself pieces of cheese – like it’s nobody’s business

2. She squeezes herself into tight spots she can’t get out of. Like yesterday, when she tried to reach the powerpoint against the wall in between the TV unit and desk in our spare room – when she couldn’t move any further she looked back at me with a ‘help!/what the hell have I done?’ expression

3. She falls asleep immediately in warm places during the day

4. When I go on the laptop, she tries her damndest to get on my lap, clawing at the keypad ferociously once she’s there (currently the ‘comma’ key is loose). I’m sure she would walk on them too, if I let her

5. She’s stealthy quiet when she’s doing something she’s not meant to – like pulling out 75 tissues from the tissue box, or rearranging my Angel/Sex and the City DVD collection

6. She frequently lunges into my lap, just ‘cause

7. And the main determining factor… She is a Leo.

I am able to make these cat calls, because I too, am a Leo. And I like cats, a lot. Not like those Astrology waste-spacing Leos who don’t like cats. I mean really, that’s like the Pope not being into God.

Jam and Love

October 14, 2014January 16, 2015 / smikg / 1 Comment

Jam and Cream
1 Orr Street Rosanna/Heidelberg Heights (depending on what guide you’re using)

It’s the place of little girls’ tea party fantasies, where little boys have chocolate smudged around their lips without the fear of chastising, and where people like me can experience the joy of scrumptious scones in the best setting of all: Nana’s house.

Seeing as I never had the opportunity to meet my grandparents, perhaps this place fulfils that little girl desire in me, to be spoiled. Being the youngest though, you can have no fear that I missed out on any of that.

Or maybe I just like high tea.

High tea is what first led me to this quaint little place.

My first venture there was with my best friend to ‘suss it out:’ I had an idea, a plan, and that idea eventuated into my second outing there, with a very intimate group of my closest family and friends, in my last months of pregnancy. It wasn’t a ‘baby shower’ as such, more a get together to create some beautiful memories with my closest people amidst what had been a very dark year, prior to the biggest event of my life, thus far. I had been looking for a decent place in my neck of the woods that catered for high tea, and Jam and Cream came up in my search results.

On that grey Winters day in July, we were in the pink caravan at the rear of the premises, with intermittent rain keeping the ground wet and umbrellas a necessity. Despite the weather, it was one of the most beautiful, memorable and meaningful days of my life, a day I still look back on fondly. I had vowed I would come back with Hubbie, and try more of what had made the day such a joy: the scones.

I had been dreaming of those scones since, and during Hubbie’s week off from work I knew just where I wanted to go.

It was seriously like it was meant to be. The Friday started off as very cloudy, however as the lunchtime hour approached, so too did the clouds start to wane… to make way for the beautiful, glorious, Spring sun.

It became all too clear to me on our drive over: this was the weather making up for my last visit there; this was the weather saying ‘here you go, experience Jam and Cream the way you’re meant to.’

Upon arrival I actually saw three groups of people leave in the time it took for us to get our bags and baby girl out of the car. Even so, inside it was packed, and in the yard section which travels from the side of the café to the back surrounding the pink caravan, almost all the tables were taken. We took a spot outside, and managed to get a high chair for baby girl too.

It was an exciting day. Not only was I here, creating more beautiful memories of this wondrous place, over 1 year on from the last time I’d been, but it was going to be baby girl’s first foray into the world of babycinos.

(!!!)

I have been looking forward to her entering the café culture for a LONG time.

That, along with the fact that we were there for lunch and dessert and coffee, had me rubbing my hands together in anticipatory delight.*

For lunch, I had the Basil Scones

and Hubbie had the Homemade Pie – beef, bacon and cheese

I loved my scones. Firstly, adding to the ‘made at Nannas house’ feel captured by the café, is the fact that the menu states that all scones are made fresh and to allow a 20 minute wait for your order to arrive. This is most definitely true, as when you get the scones and slice through, the heat emanating from the middle, and the powdery softness of the dough, is indicative only of baked goodness recently out of the oven – it is so satisfying. I sure as hell will wait for that. Even baby girl liked the bits I gave her.

Hubbie enjoyed his pie, and even I thought it was good, the mouthful I tried (and I’m not a massive pie girl). I thought it was a tad small, but he also had a savoury scone on the side, which I have to add he wasn’t too happy with, he thought it was a tad uncooked. I told him he was talking complete nonsense, but realised he must have been telling the truth when we happened upon scones from another place a couple days later, and he said how much he liked those compared to Jams. So I have to take his point into account.

For dessert we shared the ‘Beryl’ Scones – with cherry ripe and coconut

Yum and yum. There was a piece of cherry ripe in the scone, and it was covered in lovely coconut-y goodness. Accompanied by a nice big mug of cappuccino, that kept me rambling and rambling and rambling which to Hubbie probably felt like forever, and then of course baby girl got this:

I was nearly crying from excitement. As fate would have it, baby girl was not, and although she took several spoonfuls of froth topped with chocolate powder, not even half-way through she seemed to have had more than enough and we stopped there. It’s ok, these things take time.

Sitting there in the beautiful sunshine, relaxing in the yard, eating scones and drinking coffee… ahh, this is the life.

Both the café and the yard are decorated with Grandmotherly, old-fashioned paraphernalia: tea mementos, cakes and cute items for the kitchen and themed parties adorn the inside of the café, while small tables sit outside, some with umbrellas to get some much-needed shade on hotter days. Even the serving-ware matches – floral dishes accompany your scones, and the mugs are huge and funky retro-themed, reflective of the odd stuff you might see in homes of Nanas and Papas.

When I went in to pay at the end of our visit, I realised that their indoor café space seemed to have doubled since the last time I’d been; although the eating area remains in the same place, they seemed to have acquired the shop space next to them, and used it to display all their extra miscellaneous cake/decorations/accessories, as well as housing their main counter. This was confirmed for me when I asked the girl putting my order through, and she said when their neighbouring shop had gone up for sale, they had purchased it. It’s definitely a great decision for both owners and diners, as it allows for much more eating space in their original café area, separating that from the cake counter and the other itty-bitty items that they had crammed together before. Even so, the packed look does do them a favour when they’re emulating Grandma’s house.

Food: 10/10. Their main food avenue is their scones, and they are done so, so well. Fresh, inventive, so many different flavours and varieties in both savoury and sweet options – honestly, what more could you want?

Coffee: 7/10. Loved the big mug, gave me such a caffeine hit, compared to other places that only offer the standard ‘cup’ size for coffees.

Ambience: Really relaxed and chilled outside, especially on such a stunning day. You can’t be stressed at Grandma’s house though, she has everything under control!

Staff: Really helpful, especially our waitress that day. Taking our order would have been both entertaining and frustrating for her. “I’ll have these scones… no wait, what about these?… Which sweet scones are good?… and can our sweet scones come after the savoury ones… and can the coffees come with the sweet scones?… and can the babycino come with them too?… and can we have a high chair?…. and can we have a big mug of boiling water?”

LOL. I did have to remind her about the water when it didn’t come immediately, but I kind of bombarded her with a million requests so I didn’t blame her. On my previous visits there the staff have been nice and helpful too, including one of the ladies there who I’ve encountered on each visit. She must be involved as owner/manager: she’s a tough woman, but don’t be fooled – it’s that generation, remember?

People: Kind of a mix. We had a teenage couple near us who baby girl kept smiling widely at, duos of females were abound, women with kids (ok so maybe more women) and an older couple. There was a group of kids in the pink caravan for someone’s birthday, and inside again there were mostly women, but people in there seemed older. If you have kids that still like to run, sit outside. It’s definitely a place that you don’t stay at for long, and I feel like we were the only exception, as almost all the people in the yard left long before we did. You come in with your friend/s, have a cuppa and some scones in between shopping/visiting friends/taking a walk and then you go. It’s a lovely in-between place, but it’s also an amazing place to while away the afternoon. It’s Nanna’s. Grab a paper and you’re set.

Price: Tallied up to $41.40. I thought that was really good, considering we had lunch, shared a dessert and had coffee. The babycino was free I think, and it is my firm belief that they should always be since all babies are getting are chocolate-sprinkled froth. From memory the scones are about $14 for a serve of two which I think is fair and totally worth the price for the quality of what you’re getting.

Advice: For a special event or get together, do what I did and book the pink caravan. It’s in high demand though, so you’ll need to book weeks in advance. It may even be worth booking for a normal Saturday or Sunday venture, especially if you have more than 2 people in your party. It was busy when we went on a Friday for lunch, but then again it was the school holidays.

In a nutshell: I am in love with this place (if it isn’t totally obvious). I can’t wait to go back again and again, with only my close friends. As I said to Hubbie “this is the only place I won’t ‘check-in’ on Facebook.”

Hubbie: “Why?”

Me: “I don’t want everyone coming here.”

* Anticipatory delight: the state of being in excited anticipation, that is, anticipating an event, the lead-up to it providing a frenzied atmosphere of happiness in waiting for it to occur. Examples: every Friday, the onset of Summer, first day of Holidays.

It’s a weighty issue

October 14, 2014 / smikg / Leave a comment

I may not be very popular after this post – much like the rich man who cries poor – but, as I try so hard and so often NOT to say in blog-land, FUCK IT.

So, people who read this blog often, and all of my family and friends, will be very aware that I am now a mother. Almost 14 months on, and she is the best thing, the most amazing blessing, that has ever happened to Hubbie and I.

I’m very grateful, for a lot of things post-pregnancy. I’m grateful that we are starting to see her pull herself up, we’re grateful in hearing her babble and try to talk, I’m grateful that we’re becoming more social and heading out more… and I’m also grateful that my body has returned to its pre-pregnancy size. In fact, it did so pretty soon after having her.

That’s just the way my body is. I’m not going to act all proud, because I didn’t do anything for it. It did it, itself.

And that’s the thing. I’m so bloody sick of people, looking at me, and commenting on my body. Often it comes from a genuinely surprised/complimentary place “how did you have a baby?” or “it looks like you never had one!”

I don’t know how to respond to these remarks, though kind, other than to smile and laugh. What do I say? Sometimes I say thanks, other times I mumble something, or direct it back to the person and say that they too look amazing after having kids – which is not a lie, I won’t say it unless I mean it.

But then there are this other lot, who comment on me being so skinny, to the point that they’re not being complimentary, not a bit, not a little, nothing at all – but instead their words come off jealous, biting, and snide.

They look you up and down and all they say is “you’re too skinny.”

Or as you walk to the lunch buffet they comment with a smirk “oh, you’re eating?”

And then when they say their goodbyes they tell you to “eat more” with a laugh.

These are people within my family.

Are you fucking for real????

(Deep breath, for my rebuttal).

Not that I have to explain, ANYTHING to ANYBODY, but:
– I am about the same size I was before pregnancy. No one was shitty about my weight then. Why are people all up in a huff now that I’ve had a baby? Am I meant to have handlebars and be overweight to be acceptable?
– I eat whatever I like. Some days I am truly rushed, but make no mistake I make up for it, every chance I get, especially on weekends.
– I like to wear fitted clothes, and I always have. This seems to be an affront to these vindictive people now. I wore baggy, trackie, homely clothes for about a year, and I remember the first time I put on make-up and got really dressed up which was about 7 weeks after baby girl was born, I felt re-born. Like a new woman.
I wore those baggy clothes for so long, there are some I’ve actually now thrown out. I want to move on, and go back to the way I always used to dress, because that’s me. I like to dress up, make myself up, as it makes me feel good. I do it for me, not for anybody else, and I shouldn’t have to feel bad or apologise for wanting to make myself look good and consequently feel good.
– Is it considered morally right to stare at a person you think is too fat and say to them “gee, you are too fat” “stop eating” and “what are you doing to yourself?” People wouldn’t dream of actually saying that to an overweight person, so why is it deemed ok if the person is skinny? No person’s body should be judged, even if that judgment is veiled in a pretend compliment ( ”she won’t get upset, I’m saying she’s skinny”)

I am absolutely sick to my core of these judgments. It’s really annoying, as it is hurtful. No one should be subjected to remarks like these, least of all women, who are already to susceptible to media and societal pressure to look a certain way, especially women who have had children. Your body goes through so many physical and other-worldly changes, that to then scrutinise that woman’s body after she’s put on weight for carrying a baby, to then losing it (or trying to) and feeling so many different emotions and feelings and thoughts of “how do I look?” “am I good enough?” “will my husband still find me attractive?” – women’s own private thoughts about themselves are well enough without the added inspection of people who think it is their duty to inform others if they’re adequately sized. The number of times I asked my husband what he thought of my body post-pregnancy I cannot even begin to count. I know I’m skinny. That’s my body type, I’ve always been that way. I never wanted to look unwell, or sick, which is why I’d ask “am I too skinny?” I was breastfeeding for over a year, and that equals your baby depleting your stores in many, many different ways. Hubbie would always say “no,” and he continues to. I know I already know the answer, but it’s annoying people who think it’s their right to pass judgment, that unfortunately, make me question myself.

But no more, mother fuckers. Keep your stupid thoughts to yourself. Because your head is too big and your nose is too pointy.

The sweets aren’t too Fara-way on Lygon

October 10, 2014October 10, 2014 / smikg / 1 Comment

Brunetti
380 Lygon Street Carlton

It’s an institution. Even in its pre-renovated days back in Faraday Street, despite the assumption of space it was always cramped. Brunetti has now moved to its new home within Lygon Court but still, despite the high ceilings and long passageway it now inhabits, with separate dining areas and eating experiences, the place is packed.

It will always be packed, Brunettis. That’s the other thing; to those who really know it, it’s Brunettis – as any self-respecting Aussie knows, an establishment only becomes truly endearing after you change it to its plural. Thus, Brunettis is the place that many, many people have been going to for years now, and it’s much adored by all. Venue change and all, I think it’s only gotten better.

It was packed when we went for Tuesday lunch during the school holiday period in October. Though it started off with ample space, by the time we’d finished our mains and had moved onto cake and coffee, the place was, as Hubbie would say “jamming.”

We’ve been to Brunettis heaps of times before, as it coincidentally and fortunately was off our favourite restaurant strip of this great city. We’d go out to eat, and finish by stopping by to salivate at the cakes and take some home for later. It would be a Saturday night, there’d be a line of people outside just waiting for a free table to open up, with the mass crowd inside the restaurant waiting to be served coffee and cake reminiscent of something you’d see in a mosh pit. I think even back then there was a section devoted to savouries, well within the venue away from the sugar-seeking crowds, but having never gone to Brunettis for something salty I couldn’t say for sure. It’s definitely there now.

I must admit, although the idea of so many petite and beautiful looking sculptures of pastry and sugar was always so appealing, it was never a really truly ‘wow’ experience for me. Sure I still wanted to come back and experience more of the cakes in the display, and to this day I still want to buy one of those $40 cakes to take home and eat over a week, but there were never any heavenly explosions in my mouth. I was really keen to give it a good go and be proven that these mouth-watering delights do exist. We hadn’t been to Brunettis in ages, and hadn’t experienced it in its new home, so when the opportunity arose Hubbie
and I went with baby girl and MIL into town, to check out the new digs.

They’ve really gone all fancy-schmancy. I loved it. We were having our mains right near a black and white photo of what looked like Sophia Loren standing over a multi-tiered wedding cake. If anyone can confirm this is Sophia, please let me know (I can’t find the image anywhere on google). The theme in the new venue is that of modern Italian opulence, with some great old reminders of yester-year like those awesome B&Ws. They have their cake display up one end of the shop, followed by the coffee-making team in a hub, much like it was before, followed by another sweet pastry section, then the savouries, with all the dining areas opposite, including a sectioned-off private dining area for the posher crowd in the far corner of the restaurant.

For lunch we shared the following:

Sopressa Roll, Ragu Arancini and Porcini Pizza

I’m not a huge salami fan, but this roll was really yummy and fresh, so good. There was salami, peppers, artichokes, and it really felt like an antipasto party in my mouth. The Arancini was cheesy and saucy, and the Porcini Pizza was interesting with its choice of mushrooms, but still great. We easily cleaned it up between the three of us.

Because we were sitting under Sophia near the savoury section, we then decided to move closer to the sweet stuff and change locations, and fortunately Hubbie found a great table right between the coffees and cakes on the other side of the room.

What I also like about the place is that it’s brimming with waiters, but they’re not so focused on their task of clearing tables/delivering food that they won’t stop and NOT look annoyed when you ask them a question. For example I stopped one waiter to ask him if I could get some extra share plates, and despite the fact he was about to pick up and balance several precarious looking dishes, he warmly told me I was more than welcome to take more. Another waitress happily located a high chair for us, and another waiter who looked like his name would be Giovanni, young boy recently come to Australia from Italy to make a better life for himself, having gotten a job at Brunettis due to ‘family connections’ (I’ve got the plot all lined up), who was walking by clearing tables, very nicely said in his fine Italian accent that he would find us a high chair (we’d since moved tables) and came back after his search to happily provide us with one. Despite the busy-ness, another waitress played “hi” with baby girl (she is waving at everyone at the moment – baby girl not the waitress), and it just made me, us, feel good. I could tell all the wait staff are very on the ball when it comes to clearing things away – get people out, so more people can come in. Despite that, they’re not pushy, or trying to get rid of you, they’re just being efficient and making sure tables are cleared so new customers can sit down without rubbish at their tables. And in between I’m happy to report, they’re absolutely lovely.

After much internal debate and soul-searching, we all decided on three desserts with our coffee. I had the White and Dark Chocolate Mousse (pictured here with my cappuccino)

Hubbie had the French Custard Tart

and MIL had a chocolate mousse type cake, but we have no idea what it is, so we’ll just refer to it as the dark brownie-looking one in the photo with a cream bomb on top

All the desserts were great. I think it was a tie between MILs and mine, as I tasted Hubbie’s and though I love custard, it was good, but that was it. Mine was velvety goodness, and I was so glad I went down the mousse path. I felt the prices were really decent for the inspirational creations on offer, but again I think they can definitely afford the prices when they’re producing all those cakes and savouries in such high volume.

That was the fear I had with Brunettis; because they do so much of a variety of food, both sweet and savoury, I wonder whether they are doing too much, but not doing anything well. That’s my thought whenever I come across an establishment that has too much to offer, but falls short of excellence with any of its products. Hubbie and I were talking about this just the other day, and referring to a local hangout which I won’t divulge the name of, other to say that they offer pizza, pasta, steaks, other mains, a wide variety of breakfast, dessert, and drinks, and each time I’ve been there in the past I have not been wowed, in any, ANY measure, being sorely disappointed on many an occasion. We refuse to go there now, and that’s where my thoughts went when I was observing Brunettis. However, that is NOT, definitely not the case there. The savoury was so delicious, and our cakes so scrumptious, that even though the mousse I had wasn’t that 100% piece of heaven I was searching for, it came close, and I have no doubt with more cake-testing journeys there, I will find it 😉

Food: 8/10. Really fresh, and some of those cakes… OMG. Just look at the case. Go on, look. I dare you not to buy anything, or at least salivate, just a little.

Coffee: 7/10. The coffee was strong, to Hubbie’s liking, and I found it not too bad, though I think I prefer my caps smooth. Still good though.

Ambience: Cosy yet bustling, modern yet European vibe. It’s a really nice blend of cultures, and how could it not be on Lygon street?

Staff: Warm and friendly, though we had a bit of a ‘what the?’ moment when Hubbie asked the coffee staff for a jug of boiling water for baby girl’s food. We had to leave our food in the jug at their bench, rather than bring the water to our table, I assume for ‘safety’ reasons. That’s all well and good, just inconvenient, and terribly annoying. When I got up to get her food, another waitress said to me “do you want to take the whole thing to the table?” (as in, the boiling water we weren’t initially allowed to take to our table). Otherwise, they were great.

People: A lot of families because of the school holidays, older couples, and friends meeting for coffee/lunch. I’d say on the weekend it would draw a much younger crowd, if my memory of old Saturday night’s does not evade me. 

Price: The savouries were expense. $30 for the three dishes we had, and the pasta menu I perused the $$ were about the same and that was for singular dishes; unless you’re a high-flying businessman, I don’t know if you’d be paying that much on your lunch break, but still, I wanna go back and have it another day, only because our dishes were so fresh, I can’t imagine how beautiful their pasta would taste.
The desserts were more acceptable. Considering the visually stunning creations, quite appropriately priced. Our three desserts and coffees came to about $20, and then I just had to take a few more home in their very nice Brunetti box:

And five of those beauties came to just under $17. Let’s just say I’m happy that I don’t work near Lygon street, because I’d be spending all my money there and expanding my waistline.

Advice: Go when you think it won’t be busy, and the crowd will be just manageable. During high-peak times, on weekends you’ll have to wait for a table, or stalk someone like you would in a shopping centre car park and wait ‘til they knock the last bit of their coffee back before lunging on their table. There are plenty of seats, however there will never be enough at Brunettis.

In a nutshell: It’s a Lygon Street right-of-passage, and until you’ve gone, you’ll never know how good it is to look at so many cakes and want to try them all at once, shovelled into your mouth. But that would be a culinary injustice to this place, so you’ll just have to do what I’m going to do, and go back, bit by bit, and try EVERY SINGLE CAKE they have there, ONE AT A TIME.

Daisy on the stairs

October 7, 2014November 9, 2014 / smikg / Leave a comment

Jack & Daisy
152b Cumberland Road Pascoe Vale

It was a grey day, unlike the glimmers of beautiful Spring we’d recently been privy to experiencing. I was running late, and was VERY hungry when I got to Jack & Daisy one Thursday LATE morning in September.

Melbourne weather can really put a dampener on your mood.

I waited outside the café for maybe five minutes, pulling silly faces at baby girl in pram, thinking my friend had not yet arrived, when in fact she was waiting in the back room the whole time. I hadn’t gone to venture inside because of the ‘step.’

You see, when one arrives with a pram, and sees a decent step up into an establishment, one does not feel confident. Back when I had gone into the bustling The Red Corner Store, even that place had been confronting, and that was due to the busy-ness of the Saturday morning rather than its front step, which was so minor compared to this one.

Upon learning of her already being in there (“how the hell did she get her pram in there?”) I backed into the store, and thank God a kind soul of a man sitting near the entrance with his kids held the door open for me as I hoisted baby girl in.

When I saw where the back room was, I had to brace myself: accessible, but only via more stairs. After manoeuvring amongst tables, more prams and high chairs, I pulled the pram up with some difficulty, quietly willing the little girl taking her time on the stairs to move the hell out of my way.

Then another little girl appeared, and I smiled sweetly at her, pretending patience, as the waitress coaxed her away and I wondered where in the hell her Mother was.

By the time I got to my friend and her baby girl, I was kind of puffed. The back room we were in was as expected, at the back of the restaurant, and I think the sole purpose of this room is for Mums and their Bubs, as there were plenty of high chairs about. Two long tables spanned the room, and my friend and I with our prams in one corner, easily took up the whole table with our gamut of baby food, accessories and bags. On the other table behind us there were also two women with their kids.

You can take it in one of two ways: either the room is designed to give Mums and Bubs their own space, and a little privacy away from the rest of the diners; or they’re keeping the demanding and space-clustering customers away, and I don’t mean the ones without kids.

Having said that, the Mums and their Bubs were everywhere. As I mentioned, I was practically climbing over prams and high chairs (and annoying kids that wouldn’t move) to get to the back room. If I didn’t know better I would have thought the café catered specially for this breed I’m now part of. Which is great. Kind of. I can kind of only handle my own, plus only three more, maximum, at any one time. So conflicted thoughts there.

I was pretty hungry by the time the food came. I haven’t been out to eat brekkie with baby girl in tow for a while, so I hadn’t realised how HARD it was going to be, with her now super-mobile and all. She was in the high chair, and I tried to entertain her by my giving her my mobile phone to chew on, as I tried to eat:

Daisy’s favourite poached free range eggs, smoked salmon, herbed fetta, avocado salsa & toasted multigrain

Now that’s the description taken from a photo someone posted on urbanspoon, but my meal came a little different. Firstly I had replaced the avocado salsa with mushrooms, because the last time I had avocado I actually thought I was going to vomit all my insides out (true story). I used to love avocado, but alas, avocado does no longer love me. Going by my photo, everything seemed to match the urbanspoon description bar the addition of the relish, which had a tangy sweet flavour to it. And weirdly, I still had green on my plate, so I’m assuming it WAS the avocado that they just forgot to omit. I didn’t try it, because of that whole fear of vomiting my insides. Hmmm. Chef probably should keep to the orders given, wouldn’t you say?

Even though I ate my brekkie over a 45 minute interval (or at least that’s how long it felt), the time taken to eat isn’t a determining factor in my review: what I’m trying to say is, if it’s yum, it’s yum, lukewarm or not. And if it’s weird, well it’s weird… fresh from the kitchen or siting at the table for 45 minutes.

It was like an ‘everything-on-a-plate’ thing. The poached eggs were perfect, and the bread they were on was amazing, but trying to cut it with my knife was almost impossible, despite the crunchy homely-style flavour they possessed. But then there was that green part of the bread I was unsure about that I had to cut out, which I’m just hoping against hope it was some fresh seedy bit that wasn’t toasted in the bread-baking process. I’m not sure. The mushrooms were good, the relish was nice, and the fetta was VERY citrusy – a bit too much for my liking, for cheese. I prefer my cheese creamy. I know that I ordered mushrooms, but even without them, I don’t know how citrusy fetta, avocado salsa and sweet relish goes together. I considered mashing the relish and fetta together, but decided against it because on their own the flavours were SOOO strong.

The smoked salmon was as expected, and perfect with the bread and eggs. Individually everything was good, some things were great; but together, I don’t think it worked.

Coffee came just after my meal. Again I had it a bit too late (the story of my life) but I still enjoyed it. It had a lot of lovely chocolate sprinkling on the froth which I love, and the way freaking cappuccinos should be you tight-arsed barristas elsewhere. My friend’s takeaway coffee came with the number ‘1’ on her cup when she asked for no sugar, and they happily replaced it with another. I know that may be easy to say and kind of expected (uh, pleasing the customer?) but seriously if I told you about my ‘glasshouse’ experience in Docklands when I felt I had to apologise for ordering a weak cappuccino – “is that ok?” – trust me, customer service isn’t HIGH on everyone’s list, as much as it seems a given to the person forking out the $.

Food: 6.5/10. Components were great individually… maybe I should have ordered something of a specific nature, rather than an ‘everything on your plate’ dish that the Daisy’s favourite meal suggests at.

Coffee: 8/10. Choc sprinkles to my liking, thank you.

Ambience: Cosy, relaxed, yet very constant for a grey Spring morning mid-week.

Staff: Attentive and friendly. They were all over us in the back room when we were getting the prams up, and then helping us bring them down over the stairs when we were all done. Which is what you’d expect since they seem to designate Mums in the back room, a back room albeit with stairs… you kind of expect that help, but still it’s very much appreciated when it comes and you don’t have to face the stairs alone.
Hey, here’s an idea… turn the stairs into a ramp. Back room is still accessible, and Mums don’t break into a sweat wondering how in the hell they’ll get in there if no staff are present to help.

Although it took a little while for our menus to arrive, once they were there our lovely waitress was all over it. Sugar wasn’t on our table when the coffee arrived, but fortunately our on-the-mark waitress was and promptly brought some over to me. And it was raw sugar, so I was extra pleased.

People: Mums and Bubs, Mums and Bubs….. um, Mums and Bubs. No, seriously, there was also Mums and Bubs there. And toddlers. Ok enough kidding, when we left I actually noticed there were less Ms & Bs, and quite a few groups of the non-young parent variety (shock horror!), as well as some business-looking folk. The unofficial Mums and Bubs session must have been ending… we were on our way out after all 😉

Price: Mine was $23, I think fair and reasonable for the locality, restaurant reputation and for what I got.

Advice: If you’re a Mum, with a Bub, going with a pram – book ahead, and by God make sure you’re not going into the back room. You don’t need that worry, please, trust me!

Just generally it might be worth booking, seeing as it was fairly busy when I went and it wasn’t even a peak time of day/week.

And get a meal that’s like, just eggs, or just pancakes, or just toast. Don’t get all complicated with your decision.

In a nutshell: I would like to try their other dishes, and try their cappuccino hot next time (my bad not theirs)… but only if it’s a sunny day.

Why you ask? So I don’t have to ‘step’ inside and deal with any stairs.

Her Anthem

September 30, 2014 / smikg / Leave a comment

They start off so well.

Well, maybe not ALL of them, the babies. Our baby girl did though.

Settling herself to sleep, and then sleeping through the night.

She still sleeps through, when the teeth aren’t hassling her… but for a few weeks now, she just won’t be left to fall asleep on her own.

Hubbie thought of the idea to just stand in her room and wait until she dozed off, and then quietly creep out. This is a great idea, because it saves me the back-breaking task of rocking her to sleep, which I never used to do at the end of the day. She may be petite, but she’s still 13 months old, and a growing toddler (though she’ll always be my baby girl).

As great as the idea sounds, and yes it is effective…. It is effective EVENTUALLY. Because of her game.

I think she’s not settling due to some developmental thing. She’s recently discovered that she can pull herself up into a standing position, and is crawling right all over the place. And when I put her in her cot for the night, she sits up, and then pulls herself up so she’s standing against the cot railing.

I stand there, side on to her, staring at the space above her cot, not making any eye contact.

She might make some noise, or laugh at me because she thinks we’re playing peek-a-boo, and I quietly pry her hands off the railing and lie her down, tuck her blanket around her again, and resume my wall-staring.

Again she stands, this time her teeth gnawing at the railing.

I wait a while, and then frustrated that this going-to-sleep thing isn’t progressing any faster, pull her off the railing and tuck her in again.

She starts playing with the bars of the cot. Out of the corner of my eye I see her stand up again – I ignore it. Her intention is play, but it’s too late in the day, and her tired legs give way and –

PLONK.

“I get knocked down.”

I try not to smile. She temporarily lies down, sucking her fingers. I think ‘good, she’s become discouraged.’

Within seconds she’s sat back up.

“But I get up again.”

Standing up again, leaning against the cot, chewing on the railing. “Ehh!” she yells out in protest. Play with me Mum! is what she means.

I sigh, promptly lie her down, tuck her in firmly, and say “Shhhh.”

That’s all the motivation she needs. After all she just broke me: I spoke.

In no time she’s at it again.

“You’re never gonna keep me down.”

I ignore her and stare at the wall, closing my eyes, wondering why she can’t fall asleep while I standing there think I may soon become a sleep-stander.

“I get knocked down.”

Over she falls once more, and she swings her legs from side to side. I hesitate – is she settling in?

“But I get up again.”

Nope.

“You’re never gonna keep me down.”

Tubthumping indeed.