I’m sorry…

May 30, 2016May 30, 2016 / smikg / Leave a comment

I’ve noticed a change in me lately. It’s come as a result of being self-aware of some of my ongoing words and actions, words and actions that have upset me very much.

I’m overly apologetic.

And I’m sorry for it.

I became quite aware of it, a couple of weeks ago while at work. I was in the company of some new people, and when the mention of my footy team came up, and how I supported it, I brushed it off.

You see, the old SmikG would have just told you that I barrack for a team that you either love, or you hate. If you are from Melbourne, or follow the AFL in any way, you would be lead into knowing who I follow without me saying anything more.

But today, I tell you bang smack in your face, that I am a proud supporter of the Collingwood Magpies.

I always have been. But as I said above, like their colours, you are either white for them, or black against them. Because of the sheep mentality of many AFL fans, where they think it is cool to collectively hate on the most popular team of the AFL, people jump on this unfair bandwagon and throw shit at the club and it’s supporters, only because they feel threatened. It’s easy to hate on another team, instead of focusing on the strength (or lack of, which is where the insecurity comes from) of your own team.

Ok, rant over. But you get my point. Because of this constant negative attention, and because I was in the midst of some new people, I dismissed my devotion to the club, saying that I hadn’t been into the AFL so much this year, and was not following the matches as much as in previous years.

Which was true. I was so busy with other things in life that I genuinely wasn’t watching many games. But the main point, was that I was apologetic for my devotion to them. And I was avoiding the ugly head that would undoubtedly rear in light of my devotion. Sure enough, a snarky comment followed from one said newbie: “don’t bother following them this year, they’re not going anywhere (near the top of the ladder).”

I went home later that day, and told the following story to Hubbie. I was teary. Not for Collingwood. Whatever. You can’t make everyone love you, or the choices you make, or the things you follow, or what you’re passionate about, right?

I was upset at myself. I recalled the story to him, telling him I was upset that I was avoiding the point of who I followed. I also recalled the story, of a little encounter that happened YEARS ago, but nevertheless an encounter that had stuck in my head, because I guess I hadn’t understood it at the time. We had been at an engagement party, and a girl we were speaking to at our table, asked me what my star sign was. And I, the proud Lioness that I am, responded with a silly shrug and said “Leo.”

Hubbie jumped on this indecision immediately. “Why do you say it like that? Like it’s bad?”

I tried to explain it away, by saying “oh, you know how Leos sometimes get a bad rap for being full on…”

I was apologising, for being born in August. I was apologising, for having the best damn star sign there is. I was apologising, for being me.

I recounted all this to Hubbie and said I was shitty with myself. It was not good enough. I was letting myself down.

I think it all leads to insecurity and wanting to constantly please people. Not wanting to upset people. Not wanting to make others mad. Not wanting to say and do anything that might make someone cranky with me. I’m a people pleaser, and yet I’m also sensitive, which means I know how it feels to be hurt easily… therefore I don’t want to be the one that hurts others.

It goes right down to the smallest things. Not speaking up because I might offend someone, when really all I would probably say is to set a fact straight, like telling the barista they got my coffee wrong. I say sorry, when I walk into a person who I didn’t see… they also didn’t see me, and they weren’t sorry, so why should I be?

Someone saying sorry to me for getting in my way… and then I’ll say sorry back, because they’re sorry! Even justifying, is something I am DONE with.

“I just work 2 days a week.”

“I just did the grocery shopping.”

“I just wanted to get you something for your birthday.”

NO. It should be more like this:

“I work 2 days a week, because the other days are spent raising a small human.”

“I did the grocery shopping and it was a task while I wrangled a climbing, running, easily bored toddler with me the whole time, but I did it, and I did it successfully with minimal yelling and threats.”

“I wanted to get you this gift because I think you’re great, but so I am, because who else would remember to give you a present 3 months after the fact, and not be embarrassed it’s delay?”

You know what, I don’t even have to justify. To over-compensate my words. Just removing the ‘just’ in the first example is enough. But I’m trying to show something here. I’m trying to show that due to my need to people-please, and my inner insecurities, I tend to apologise, a lot. Some of it came from me. And not laying blame, but I can’t deny that A LOT of it came from being in the close company of the greatest narcissist I know. Even that sounds like a compliment, and I definitely don’t wanna hand her any of those and inflate her ego even more. But being forced into hearing about this person’s life difficulties, their high-maintenance ideals and life choices, their constant negative battles, their obsession with how good they are and how our earth rotates around htem, affected me in such a profound and deep way, that I swore vehemently that I would never, ever be like her. Not one bit. Not at all. Not ever.

Self-awareness was the key to my awakening. I have always been aware of my weakness, but when I had to apologise for liking the ‘Pies, I was so mad. I swear. A footy team woke me up to my inner dealings, and I decided that I should never have to be sorry for anything in my life. Nor should anyone ever be. We all have our personal thoughts, emotions, likes and dislikes, and ways of being, and these are the things that make us unique. They make us who we are.

I wanted to be like the people I looked up to. I wanted to be an unapologetic bitch like Madonna, and actually live her words to one of my many favourite songs of hers

“And I’m not sorry.

It’s human nature.”

It so is.

Recently, I’ve been making changes. It’s been a subconscious process, but because I’m making little positive changes to what I normally would have done, I am really noticing them in my day to day activities. Yesterday, when we sat down for coffee, I asked the waiters to clean the table from the previous customers there. Normally I would have dealt with it as is, not wanting to trouble the waiters or appear difficult.

Today, I called the I.T. department at work due to a computer fault. Normally I would have waited for someone else to call up when they came across it – I would have shirked the responsibility of it. But I called, and while I did I also asked for a replacement keyboard, because my current one had dodgy keys.

People now pass me, and if they get in my way and say sorry, I just nod.

I’m not endorsing being rude, or making people move mountains for you while you sit back, filing your claws. I’m talking about voicing your opinion, being YOU, and if you do that while being nice and giving a smile, as I did with all of the above, people will actually want to help you. You won’t be putting them out with your request. They’ll be glad to help you, because of your sincerity.

But, backtrack. Quite accidentally, I got my first opportunity about a week ago, with that person who had told me to give up on Collingwood this season. We were at work, and while making small conversation she asked me “who do you follow? have I asked you this?”

And with a smile, I said “the Pies.” A warm, self-assured smile. I had come full circle, and I was glad to have redeemed my self-worth and self-esteem. She didn’t know it, but I achieved a lot that day. I’m still learning, and I’m still travelling… but like the Leonine Collingwood supporter I am, the only direction is up.

I’m sorry… that it took me this long. But I’m not sorry anymore.

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(not my pic, and I’m totally not sorry either… unless this is yours and then thank you so much 🙂

How to do Port Douglas in 4 nights (with kids) – Part 1

May 18, 2016June 20, 2016 / smikg / 1 Comment

(Travelled: Jan ’16)

It’s been several months now since our tropical getaway, and yet the memories of that trip have not ceased to stand out in the forefront of our minds. Port Douglas was a place I had always longed to go to, and now that I have, I can share it with all of YOU, all the amazing and unforgettable (and difficult) aspects. This information is for all local, national and international visitors alike, as the varied accent in those Northern parts was not uncommon, let me tell you! We travelled with baby girl, 2 years old at the time, so I can also give some advice as to how to go about your days with a toddler… it ain’t easy, but it sure was fun!

Travel + Transport

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We flew from Melbourne to Cairns, meant to be just over a 3 hour trip, though on that occasion the flight was slightly less. We had organised car hire from Cairns, so that we could do the drive up on our terms. There are shared transfer options up to Port Douglas (an hour by car if there are no stops) but having done that for our Noosa trip years ago, we knew that there was the possibility of the van stopping as it picked up other passengers, and we didn’t want to risk upsetting baby girl with the potential delay that could cause. Plus, being in a car of our own, meant we could stop if we absolutely had to, and as it was, she fell asleep for some of the way which was great.

I had read that the drive from Cairns to Port Douglas was a scenic one, and sure enough, that promise delivered. Serene bayside views, picturesque backdrops, driving through quaint beachside villages, people wearing not much but thongs and singlets, and trees trees trees. It was very wind-y. As in winding around and around and around (and around!) the hills to get there.

About 20 minutes away from our destination we got an onslaught of rain. Only this wasn’t just an onslaught, this was a tropical storm of mammoth proportions. We had heard of the tropical rain at that time of year, and wondered if that would be the norm for the rest of our trip. Luckily, no. We got a bit more rain while there, but very minimal, and nothing like what we had driven through. So if driving up at the start of the year, be careful.

Having a car allowed us the luxury of being able to go about wherever we wanted, without having to rely on public transport and the often inconveniences of waiting for it with a toddler. Even though we were situated in the middle of Macrossan Street, we still ended up using the car a fair bit. Consider it if you are with children. We had a child seat added for baby girl, and just make sure there are no km limits with the car you hire, since you would be travelling an hour to and from Port Douglas to Cairns (not including additional travel around the area) it does add up. (And remember to return the car with fuel!)

Accommodation

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We stayed at Saltwater Luxury Apartments, situated right in the middle of Macrossan Street. We had parking underneath the premises, and there is a shared pool for holiday stayers to use, which we did, twice. It wasn’t an Olympic-sized pool, but it was enough. Baby girl squealed with delight and tried to break in every day, so = Pass.

We had a two-bedroom apartment overlooking the main street, which meant at night things got noisy! Our room was closer to the street, with baby girl’s closer to the entrance door which was nearer the other apartments and the shared corridor between them. On several occasions, people coming home would think it acceptable to talk loudly with one another in the corridor before walking into their apartment, despite all the other nearby stayers! On night 1 we discovered ‘the birds,’ loud riotous birds that sang almost all night, there must have been at least 50 of them, and they sounded like they were outside our room. “Don’t birds sleep?” Hubbie and I asked each other at 1am. Along with this there was the noise that eventually waned off from the below restaurant, Bel Cibo, with the kitchen staff cleaning and washing up and making all kinds of racket until they left the premises about midnight.

So, it was a noisy place to stay. I was slightly nervous because I was worried baby girl would wake up from the noise. And she did wake up, but not from the noise… she was just unsure of her surroundings when she opened her eyes in the middle of the night.

It is a fantastic place, if you want to be in the heart of it all, and be able to walk to everything. In fact, you could base your holiday around Macrossan Street, and just go everywhere on foot, especially if you have no kiddies… but then you would miss out on Mossman Gorge. Oh man you don’t want to miss out on that one.

So, great location, but noisy at night. Parents may find it a bit annoying with the constant racket, but then again, it was high season, at the start of January. The 2 bedroom apartment was like a little house, with bathrooms adjoining both rooms, a kitchen aside a kitchen table and then the lounge room, and there was an outside enclosed area that you could sit and view the diners at Bel Cibo and people walking on Macrossan Street below. They are like little houses because you can hire them out for long stays. Definitely a great idea, especially when we go back again with our extended family 🙂

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Weather

If you are going to Port Douglas, be mindful of this: you will be hot. Not like ‘oooh, I think I might change into shorts’ hot, I’m talking humidity seeping into every crevice of your body, overcoming and suffocating you, sweat trickling down the bridge of your nose, give-me-that-pitcher-of-water-so-I-can-throw-it-over-my-head, type hot. Baby girl found it uncomfortable, as she seemed cranky on many an occasion, except for when she was in the water. Then it was bliss for her (and us). I didn’t pack anything long-sleeved or long-panted; it was light and airy all the way. I did pack insect repellent for the rainforests, but I never used it, and we never needed it either. Sunscreen is a must too.

I mean, there’s a reason why all the restaurants have fans.

Food

We ate at many great places while in Port Douglas. I’ll list them by my personal lowest to highest ranking, and note that you can click on each name which links to my actual food review post on the restaurant in question, for a more in-depth analysis of our dining experience there:

Rattle ‘n’ Hum – casual dining where you order your food at the counter.

Bel Cibo – fine dining with great views over Macrossan Street. Lots of accents here.

Whileaway Bookstore and Café – great mishmash of literature and lattes. Coffee was ok, books and surroundings were heaven.

Little Larder – These guys kind of tie with Watergate below. Funky vibe, the place to go, great coffee, food, and service. Gold.

Watergate – Fine dining, but add exclusivity. Fire, fans and all you need is Gorillas (see my review for an explanation!) Amazing food, I will be going back for the coffee and dessert! Loved.

A notable mention goes to Mocka’s Pies which we had one day for lunch. We had coffee and cake there on Day 2 –

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and then later Hubbie got some takeaway pies. Their pies are meant to be some of the best going around, and from the few we tried back at Saltwater, we could tell it was true. We shared a Steak pie (the one with the X)

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A green chicken curry pie

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And a corn and asparagus pie

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The latter pie was perhaps a questionable one, only because it wasn’t to our taste, but the first two were really delicious. I’m not a traditional pie fan, so I love it when I find pies with fillings that aren’t filled with offcuts and random bits and pieces just to fill it in. We were really happy with this find.

I don’t have the names of the other places we got takeaway food at, but one place we grabbed toasted sandwiches and steak sandwiches from was just up from Mocka’s Pies in Grant Street, but closer to the Macrossan Street end. They were ok, just as our fried rice and noodles was ok nights later from a restaurant somewhere around there too! There are so many options in that part of Port Douglas, you can afford to be fussy.

There was also a nearby Safeway, and a couple of liquor shops if you’re taking away to eat/drink at home. If you’re staying in this part of Port Douglas, it’s easy to buy anything you need and just walk on back to your accommodation to enjoy in your own private space. Super convenient surrounds.

Stay tuned for Part 2 of my Port Douglas 4 night guide where I discuss the amazing! and so-so Attractions we came across… coming very soon.

Little, with Big Love

April 28, 2016July 11, 2016 / smikg / Leave a comment

Little Larder
48 Macrossan Street Port Douglas

We had planned to take a reef tour the morning of Day 4 of our Port Douglas trip, however a spanner was thrown in the works, and it turned out we were to go in the afternoon instead.

So what to do in the meantime? Well beach it of course. We had only driven past 4 Mile Beach, and hadn’t even stopped to survey it’s yet-unknown-as UNBELIEVABLE breathtaking beauty.

As with all things though… ‘But first, coffee.’

Ahhh.

We were going to takeaway initially. But my Hubbie being the coffee snob that he is, despises the takeaway cup. He wants to sit down and drink his caffeine hit from a mug, and see it, too. I had been hanging to try out Little Larder, what with its great reviews, funky street locale, and the fact that half its name is shared with the café we went to in Daylesford and loved. My reasons and his combined, led to us sitting underneath the umbrella there on a Tuesday morning, baking underneath the part-uncovered shade of the Port Douglas sun.

We got coffees for all, plus a little something to keep us going – a Banana and Caramel Muffin.

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The muffin was really lovely and warm, sweeter by the, what I believed to be demerara sugar sprinkled on top. We had some there and kept nibbling on it at the beach later, it was that big (and moorish). Loved it. Hubbie enjoyed his latte as I did my cappuccino, and baby girl loved the abundance of froth in her babycino, not to mention the not one but two marshmallows she got.

Our waitress was great, and busy, interestingly so since they had just opened at 8am and already people were flocking in. She was friendly but not try-hard, quite genuine despite all her running around.

As I went to pay inside, it was already bustling… definitely the place to be on a Tuesday morning, and it wasn’t even 9am yet. And inside, yep it was little alright. Added to the happening vibe. Outside there were umbrella’d tables, so if you want to go you have to book, or get in quick.

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In between the above morning, and the following one, so followed the best beach experience ever.

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(Details in an upcoming post).

But yes, we did go there the next morning. Unsatisfied with just trying the coffees there, we wanted to brekkie it before finishing our packing and jetting on back to Melbourne.

So again we went, just post 8am, without a booking, and got a table. Part sun, part shade again. You can’t escape the striking sun in these parts.

Baby girl got the Rye Toast with Strawberry Jam

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Hubbie got the Nutella French Toast

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And I had the Harissa Beans with Poached Egg

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The presentation was great, however baby girl’s plate did look fairly bland, as all restaurant toddler food generally appears. She did eat it though and I was happy the bread wasn’t hard as rock like it is in other places.

I loved mine. It was most definitely spicy! The sauciness of the dish, texture from the beans and spice of the harissa was complemented beautifully by the fetta, poached egg and buttered bread. It was a welcome “ahhh!” because like I said, it was spicy! My bread was also soft which made it a joy to eat. It was a generous breakfast dish, but not one that left me feeling overfull, as some breakfast dishes have in the past.

As for Hubbie’s meal? What can I say. I mean, Nutella French Toast. You aren’t sold yet? What, you don’t like hazelnuts? You poor fool. You are missing out. Don’t think you’ll come back in another lifetime and try it, try it now! I had actually eyed his meal on the menu the day before, and had considered getting it, if only I didn’t have a huge propensity for savoury breakfasts. They just agree with me; when I go sweet, it’s usually a tad much. (I know, soft). Anyway, him being my Hubbie and all and the fact that he has to share, like it or not, I did try his dish… and it was good. Nom nom nom. It looked really, very pretty too. Nutella does that though. I think if you smeared Nutella on your walls, it would look quite attractive, and not dirty at all (think Willy Wonka).

We also got our round of coffees again and this time my cap was stronger. Despite drinking it much later than when it arrived, it was kept hot hot hot by the assisting Port Douglas sun, so winning!

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Our waiter that day was once again friendly, and I can swear we were sitting next to the owner of the joint, with his missus, outside… he was overly confident, ordering without looking at the menu, asking the waiter details of his personal life (stuff like “Did you organise your trip?”) and you know, I just got that slightly-on-edge nervous vibe from the waiter, that of to not stuff up. He also eavesdropped (I know because I do it so well) on my loud remarks about how great our meals looked. For sure, he was the boss. He was ‘invested.’ And I totally understood the European language he peppered his normal conversation with to his lady. Native tongue, let’s call it. Good job boss, you’ve got yourself a winner here, cestitamo. 😉

Food: 8.5/10.

Coffee: 8/10. Strong on our second visit.

Ambience: Amazing. I loved it. Cheeky sign out front advising us to talk to each other and not ask for wifi; the location on Macrossan Street; and the bustling inside vibe, combined with the chilled out outside feel, make it a cool place to be.

People: Tourists, locals. Lots of accents. Hipsters go there too, they were inside, so beware. (!) No really, couples and families, but generally I saw more bearded types there than any others 😉

Staff: Very friendly and accommodating, and nice to see but also importantly genuine.

Price: About $15 on our first visit, under $50 for our second. Standard for a café, yet somewhat inexpensive for the food and place and what you’re getting and experiencing. Bargain.

Advice: Book if you’re dead-set on a certain time. Get there early in the morning for brekkie. Have a muffin. Sit inside if you can’t handle sun (why are you in Port Douglas?) If you like me, feed the littlies and can’t have your coffee straight away, place it in the sun – it will keep it warm for you.

In a nutshell: I think I am favourably skewed from now on out to any eatery with the word ‘Larder’ in its name. A funky place, with delicious, generous food portions, moorish muffins, a quirky cool vibe, and all in a great locale served by lovely waiters? Its inside ‘cupboard’ may be little, but this place has a lot of Ljubav 😉

We’ll be coming back, here, and to Port Douglas again. Thanks guys.

(More info on our Port Douglas holiday will be coming up in a later post).

Geisha’s Gate

April 21, 2016May 19, 2016 / smikg / Leave a comment

Watergate
31 Macrossan Street Port Douglas

When thinking of our dining experience here, I envision Sigourney Weaver from Gorillas in the Mist. No, no jungle animals here. But it was very breezy due to the high volume of fans blowing; it was still extremely humid despite this; it was dimly lit; and the large green leafy palms all around the restaurant just made me think Ms Weaver may in fact pop out at any second.

When we walked on over to Watergate on our second last night in Port Douglas, I realised the woman standing at the front of Macrossan Street was not in fact, promoting residential properties, as she was positioned in front of the nearby real estate agency. She was standing at the walkway to the poshy restaurant, and it was only pure chance that we got a table. She asked if we had a booking and when we said no, she said she had to go and check. Lo and behold, the man walking out of the restaurant had just gone in to cancel his reservation. Boy had we struck gold. In one regard.

We waited for 1 minute on the couches in the bar area while our table got ready. The water we were brought for the whole of that one minute was sweating profusely in our glasses by the time we got up to be seated, and I was starting to fear the dress I had chosen, worried I would be leaving sweat patches when I got up.

Yep. We were getting used to the all-encompassing heat that was so prevalent up in that part of the hemisphere.

This place had more of an exclusive feel than the prior night’s Bel Cibo. Though both were of a fine dining experience, Bel Cibo was more visible sitting high up on Macrossan Street, and seemed more open and accessible… the fact that Watergate was down a walkway off the main strip, with most of its dining areas hidden from view, and the mysterious fire lanterns glowing through the night, gave it an air of intrigue and mystery. Like I said, gorillas, mist.

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The restaurant was split levelled, and as you walked down into its shallow depths you went down a few steps at this section, and down a few steps at that section. We were seated in ‘that’ section, the base, with fans on the ceiling and electric ones nearby blowing full-on straight into our faces.

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There were candles on the tables and some torches about, with absolutely no other lighting, which made taking food photos EXTREMELY difficult. I preface this before I present to you a photo of the Crown Hubbie had, and my Geisha Girl cocktail – crushed fresh strawberries & vanilla bean with vodka, wild strawberry liqueur and guava

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My drink was, divine.

At the beginning of our being seated baby girl was given a pencil case and the kids menu to drawn on, which listed the meals available to her as well as a little side puzzle. On top of that, once again we were at a paper-clothed covered table establishment, so she COULD draw on the table to keep her occupied and happy… but happy was not something available to her that night. No-siree. She had had very little sleep that day as we had been sight-seeing around extensively, and her grumpiness and unwillingness to stay seated was just the beginning of what was to be a very frustrating night.

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Her meal had fortunately arrived earlier than ours as requested:

Chicken pieces with chips, tomato sauce and broccolini

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She had had the option of vegies, or salad with her meal, but we opted for the broccolini. It’s mighty brave of these restaurants to be serving broccoli-like vegies to littlies – not that I contest, I think it’s great, and baby girl does eat it. It makes it great too in that she isn’t just eating chicken nuggets with chips every night, like what most restaurants offer up in their kids menu.

These were grilled chicken tenderloins, and both looked and tasted a lot better than the chicken we had had at Bel Cibo the previous night. Baby girl also seemed somewhat satisfied in the 0.5 seconds we managed to keep her in her chair and eating. At all other times she was standing up in her high chair, wanting to walk around the restaurant, sit on my lap, as well as stand on it too, and just do anything BUT sit quietly and nicely in her chair and eat. Of course. She’s 2. That’s her job, right? To never sit still.

She did occasionally give a shy smile at a nearby older American couple who were near us, who we had a brief conversation with over the whir of the fans whizzing. And even though the couple were really very sweet, I think the lady waving to baby girl eventually made her anxious and scared, for some reason I don’t know since she is always so friendly, but because it was only after they had left that she sat back in her high chair, and let me continue my meal.

This is what I got:

The Prawn Linguine – local tiger prawns tossed with olive oil, spanish onion, chilli, confit garlic, fresh herbs and shaved pecorino

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While Hubbie got the Pork cutlet: speck-crusted pork cutlet served with a jalapeno & smoked cheddar potato crush, seasonal greens and a port wine jus

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Once again I got like, 5 prawns, only this time it was on a heartier meal base of lotsa-linguine. These prawns were much chunkier and juicier than Bel Cibo’s, but because of their size I felt that they needed perhaps a tad more cooking, for my taste anyway. For this reason, I probably preferred Bel Cibo’s ones, but cooking-time with anything, especially seafood, is pure chance anyway. They also had a seafood taste, complimented well with the strong chilli and garlic flavours in the pasta. This was no half-arsed chilli dish, like what I have been disappointed with so much in the past, and future as well, with the chilli-pasta meals I’ve had following this experience at the time of writing. This was hardcore, this had kick and power to it, made more so when I sipped my cocktail and got a massive spicy blast in my mouth. I liked it, it just made me sweat a bit more, something I needed that night (sarcasm).

Hubbie got his pork cutlet and enjoyed it immensely, he was very pleased.

As much as we had enjoyed the food, we unfortunately hadn’t enjoyed the experience with our cranky girl – it wasn’t her fault, she was tired. It just meant that we paid a lot of money for great food without really enjoying the night together. In fact it had slightly scarred us, as we vowed we would not go out to dinner the next night, our last night there. We would get takeaway noodles instead. And since we left right after scoffing our mains, it left me yearning for more, as I was almost positive that dessert there would have been simply magic. Oh well. Leaves room for growth and anticipation I guess.

Food: 9/10. The food was of high quality, and yet for the price you paid you actually got a decent amount, not an entrée size.

Coffee: N/A very unfortunately. That’s alright, more for next time…

Ambience: Breezy with the 1000 fans. Dim-lit, a little annoying if you’re like me and a) take food photos and b) like to dissect every bite of your food. Lucky for them, other than the prawn tails there was nothing else to check through a magnifying glass. It’s very romantic if you’re with your other half, and don’t mind the feel of wind in your face as if you’re Rose standing at the bow of the Titanic, Jack holding her so she doesn’t fall off, type thing.

Chilled, yet still of a decent volume what with the diners and fans fighting for volume dominance.

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People: Poshy. Here are the ones that come out to seriously ‘play’ in Port Douglas. They seemed much more affluent here than in any other restaurant we saw. However still friendly, as was evidenced by our friendly American neighbouring table. But the man who looked over at us and passed back the pencil that baby girl had flung in her tired and sweaty state, was not so. He was part of a big group for a birthday, and there were actually quite a few groups there that night.

Staff: Very, very nice. Our main waitress was quite understanding of baby girl’s demeanour, telling us of her own child, and was kind enough to just be cool throughout our sleep-deprived-baby issues. All staff were exceptional and very professional, though here they all seemed much friendlier than at Bel Cibo’s.

Price: At a total of $116 for the lot, which roughly consisted of the same as what we had had the night before – 3 alcoholic drinks, 2 mains and a kids meal, this place was in front. We didn’t need a side dish like we’d had at Cibo’s, but with the heartiness of the meals we didn’t need it. Definitely worth the coin.

Advice: Book ahead! We chanced it and got exceptionally lucky. Get the geisha (or two or three), and enjoy a night in the jungle.

In a nutshell: We really loved this place, and comparing it to the only other fine-dining place we experienced in Port Douglas, this had better food, better value for money, better service, and I guess the surroundings, well that’s personal. I liked these surroundings, and it was much bigger and had more seating than Cibo’s did. Both restaurants were great, don’t get me wrong. But on my return to Port Douglas, Watergate’s prawn linguine and dessert with a shot of coffee will be on my agenda, somewhere on par with jumping into the crystal clear waters of 4 Mile beach and taking an unauthorised dip in the swimming lagoon at Mossman Gorge.

Ensuring baby girl is well-slept, of course.

Read and cafe-away

April 12, 2016April 12, 2016 / smikg / 1 Comment

Whileaway Bookshop & Café
2/43 Macrossan Street Port Douglas

So by this stage you can tell we’re living on Macrossan Street, yeah?

I finally had a chance to get to this union of café and bookstore on day 3 of our Port Douglas getaway, on a Monday afternoon. It was stinking hot and humid (nothing unusual in those parts) and the interior provided a chance to sit and unwind for a bit while I got excited about all the book purchase possibilities around me.

I had seen this place on Zomato before we holidayed our way over, and boy was I in anticipation of it. My dream would be to open a café/bookstore, so this for me was a special type of paradise (following the one we had visited earlier that day – swimming lagoon in Mossman Gorge. OMG. Stay tuned for an upcoming Port Douglas attractions post).

We promptly ordered up the back of the shop. It was all connected, but Whileaway is set up as if there are two sides to the store, with the café towards the back on the left behind all the seating, and the primary load of books was in the right of the store. Of course there was also seating on the right, not as much, and there were books upon entry as well near the majority of tables and chairs. There were books EVERYWHERE. You couldn’t escape (tee hee hee).

We ordered coffees, and some food.

A Cheddar Cheese and Onion Muffin

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Chocolate Macadamia Tart

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Mossman Pineapple and Banana Cake (considering Mossman Gorge had just blown my mind I had to indulge in a dessert of the same name)

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And a cappuccino, latte and babycino.

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The cheddar cheese and onion muffin was warmed up and quite tasty, a very big serve too to keep you satiated for a long time. Woe is me, I had to eat most of it since baby girl wanted none, deciding to overdose on the Pineapple and Banana Cake. That too was delicious and sweet, a mild flavour. The Tart was ok, and the coffees were strong. At first my cap had a different, unusual taste, and the caffeine hit me in my sweaty state… but then as I drank on I must have gotten used to the taste and it was ok. Probably not my preferred cup of coffee, even Hubbie agreed with his latte.

Where we were sitting was next to the children’s books and a children’s table play area, however despite the scene we still had to watch baby girl didn’t drop or damage anything. Yes, we were in the kids section, but it was that kind of shop – the look, don’t touch one. Which is difficult when you have a child and they can see trains and caterpillars and all the things they know and love, but is of a dearer and more exclusive value. There was a lady nearby sorting books who was onto baby girl, and when Hubbie said “baby girl don’t touch, the lady will get upset,” she was quite particular: “no I won’t there are just things that can break there.” Very choice with her words. I like it. Of course, she works in a book store right? (And I suspect she was a manager/owner).

I didn’t purchase anything of the reading variety during that visit, as baby girl was getting grumpy, and honestly I couldn’t even find something to buy as I was generally perusing. Not that there weren’t books aplenty, but I wanted to get something special, something different, something to remind me of our Port Douglas holiday.

We managed a quick stop over literally an hour before hitting the road for the airport days later. And after looking, and looking, and scratching my head, and sighing, to baby girl grabbing things and Hubbie following her around irritatedly, I finally settled on this:

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The blurb at the back of the book intrigued me:

“We don’t want to tell you what happens in this book.

It is a truly special story and we don’t want to spoil it.

Nevertheless, you need to know enough to buy it, so we will just say this:”

And then it continued with a brief description, which luckily further intrigued me. I won’t be reading it for a while but watch my book review space for when it does come up.

And the little plus with my purchase? My new Whileaway bookstore bookmark. Cute 🙂

Food: 7/10. Consisted of mostly savouries and sweet treats.

Coffee: 6/10. It didn’t really leave us yearning for another cuppa, but it did the trick. Strong.

Ambience: Think library! It was fairly quiet and chilled as you would expect a reading area to be.

People: There weren’t many that hot Monday arvo, but there was the solo wanderer and coffee enthusiast coming in, no rowdy groups here. There was another Mum who ventured in with her daughter, who was also trying somewhat successfully to keep her daughters hands from the pretty play things about.

Staff: Pleasant. Both women behind the coffee machine were friendly, and the studious book manager-type was… serious. About books.

Price: Reasonable, $20+ for what we had.

Advice: Come without your child. I know there is a children’s area there, but unless your child listens to every word you say and obeys every instruction given, or unless they are of an age to sit on the kids table there and just draw, perhaps best to leave them with Hubbie in the communal pool of your accommodation and come alone for an afternoon of exciting solitude and books.

In a nutshell: I would definitely love to come back on our hopefully one-day-not-too-far-away return to Port Douglas. The terrific book surrounds and cosy atmosphere is an ideal area to indulge in while having a coffee, however I do hope that the taste of the bean improves…

Coffee, and books? What a terrific way to Whileaway your afternoon.

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Sightings of People as Passionate about (Addicted to) Coffee as I am (SOPAPACAIA) #7

April 7, 2016 / smikg / Leave a comment

SOPAPACAIA Sighting #7

Highpoint Shopping Centre

Hubbie and I

Another self-sighting, I know, I know. But SOPAPACAIA was the first word that sprang to mind when we first had coffees and pastries at Cacao yesterday, only to walk down to Jasper’s a mere minute away and order some more.

What?

Hubbie’s latte at Cacao had too much texturised foamy milk, and not enough coffee! And after having an apricot Danish, I just felt my unsatisfied deep desire for a doughnut intensified…

First world problems, I know.

So at Jasper’s Hubbie got his proper latte in a clear glass (Cacao had put theirs in a cute mug – tsk tsk tsk), while I got this strawberry bomb-doughnut type thingy…

I sipped from his latte, he pecked from my doughnut, and baby girl got mouthfuls of more sweet stuff.

And we walked away in a high sugary-induced state.

‘Bel’ Prawns

March 7, 2016May 19, 2016 / smikg / 1 Comment

Bel Cibo
30 Macrossan Street Port Douglas

Since this restaurant had been booked out on night one of our Port Douglas getaway, Hubbie had booked us a table the following day for that Sunday night. It was not only conveniently placed near our accommodation, but it had elevated views of Macrossan street with a distinctly poshy vibe. We had been walking by the restaurant for two days now, looking into the kitchen and watching the all-white uniformed chefs do their thing. Soon they would be cooking for us.

On our arrival to Bel Cibo that night we were promptly seated and menus were brought to us immediately. And so it continued: the service was always there, with wait staff constantly checking in on us, whether it was to top up our drinks, get our food, or see if everything was ok. This was great, and the only reason I was peeved was that it made it a tad difficult for me to discreetly take photos. Not a bad thing to say: ‘we were waited on too much!’

Once again fans were in abundance overhead, however tonight this was in stark comparison to that of Rattle ‘n’ Hum the night before. With the overhead views of Macrossan Street, the sounds of International accents coming from both customers and wait staff all around, and the paper-covered linen tables that immediately characterised what kind of restaurant it was, I knew this was going to be a fine-dining experience. Add to that the humidity, and the increasing bird calls coming from one particular end of the main street from an enormous tree, and it felt like we were on an exclusive jungle safari somewhere in Africa.

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Baby girl was brought pencils straight away which she doodled with on the paper tablecloth, keeping her slightly occupied.

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Since we had arrived pre-7pm, our meals came quite quickly after that.

Our drinks of French Martini and a Crown

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My Seared King Prawns with crushed chat potatoes / broccolini / dill / lemon and garlic sauce

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Hubbie’s Roast Chicken Fillets with tomato / parmesan polenta / garlic field mushrooms / salsa verde

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To share, some Broccolini with garlic /lemon / evo oil / pistachio

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And baby girl’s Chicken strips and chips

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I really loved my meal. The prawns were cooked beautifully, with the light lemon-y sauce surrounding it complimenting it well. The addition of potatoes and broccolini were definitely needed for this carb-loving girl, and even though I was content on completion of my meal, it was still one of those meals at those posh places, where the quality of the food is high and tasty, yet the quantity of what you get on your plate is not in abundance. Nevertheless I really enjoyed my (approximately 5) prawns, they had a bit of a seafood taste too which Hubbie didn’t like, but all the better I thought, more for me 😉 They were very flavoursome and I enjoyed every bite, wishing there was more. The presentation was also of a high calibre.

Hubbie thought his meal components were perfectly matched and on the ball – chicken, polenta, mushrooms and salsa. He loved his meal too and enjoyed every bite.

We were however a bit undecided as to what to think about his chicken, and in particular baby girl’s chicken strips. It was brown and stringy, not white the way chicken usually looks. Hubbie first thought they had given her a cheaper cut of chicken from an ‘unfavoured’ side of the chicken – this pissed us off because hey, just because she’s a child and she has a cheaper meal doesn’t mean she should get a cheaper cut… then he considered the fact that perhaps it was in fact organic, unbleached chicken, since most chickens are apparently bleached white to get their pristine colour. After telling me that, I was so glad I was eating prawns. The fact that his chicken too was also on the brown side, told us that perhaps all their chicken was like that. But if it were organic, surely it couldn’t be stringy too? When I tried hers, I realised why she wasn’t keen on eating it at all. It was only that confusing factor that left us wondering why everything bar the chicken was of such high quality.

The broccolini was a nice side addition, and the combination of garlic, lemon and pistachios made it quite tasty and moorish.

As soon as we had eaten it was time to go: baby girl was keen to run around, and it was now ice cream time (there was definitely room in our stomachs for that).

Food: 8/10. Even with the undecided chicken verdict. Those prawns were the best I had in Port Douglas.

Coffee: N/A.

Ambience: A refined dining experience, and although there were many families around, these were the families with grown-up kids who had plenty of $$$ to splash. This was on the quieter, rather than rambunctious side.

People: As above, ‘developed’ families, couples, and there was at least one another family with a baby, I remember it well because the baby looked 2 days old and the woman’s partner just walked into the restaurant leaving her to carry 2 day-old baby in one arm and lug a pram up the stairs on her own with the other. Other than the latter, most people seemed a bit head-up-their-ass unable to smile, so just be aware that the people that usually smile at you, will be looking at your child instead with a ‘duh’ expression, their kids’ faces speaking boredom with ‘I hate this family holiday.’

Woe is you.

Staff: They were friendly, very professional, and attentive.

Price: $119.50 for the lot, which makes perfect sense for our dinner of 3 alcoholic drinks, (did I mention my French Martini was YUM!) 2 mains, a kids meal and a side, at that type of restaurant.

Advice: Book like you should with all restaurants at Port Douglas, unless of course dining pre-7pm. Sitting as close to the street gives you a great view, but then again all the outdoor covered dining area allows for fantastic views. And have the prawns.

In a nutshell: A fantastic restaurant that I believe was worth the money, given the quality of produce we encountered that night. It’s worth the fuss, and the booking ahead. Just be aware that it is a finer dining experience so some portions may need to be supplemented with sides. Finer dining can sometimes mean more boring, less adaptable clientele too. However, if you’re looking for some ‘great food,’ you’ll find it at this fine establishment.

Rattle ‘n’ Rice

February 29, 2016May 19, 2016 / smikg / 1 Comment

Rattle n’ Hum
38 Macrossan Street Port Douglas

Rattle ‘n’ Hum ended up being our second dinner option on our first night in Port Douglas.

We had arrived in upper, upper North Queensland. Tired. Hungry. Hot! The humidity was insane. We had already walked up and down part of Macrossan street, the street that was to be the place we practically lived on for the following nights we were there, and despite walking by the restaurant, and the large board out front advising of specials and kids meals, we still went back to the flashy Bel Cibo to see if we could be squeezed in.

Nope, they were booked out, and we weren’t in a waiting mood. We would have to come back to that one another night.

So off we went, to the pub-style, open-spaced Hum-mer. Fans pulsating above us, pool table in front of a bar on the left of the venue, pizza-making on the right at the front of the restaurant, with a ‘pick-up’ bench behind it and tables all in between. There was wood everywhere. It was like a big barn, a family bar.

We had been seated, but in amongst the hoo-ha of people arriving and you know, that thing called humidity bringing beads of sweat onto even the coolest of foreheads, we were forgotten and had to ask for menus. Dum da dum dum. The guy was great though, and explained what it was we had to do, which was order and pay for our meals at the ‘pick-up’ bench, and we would receive a buzzer alerting us when the food was ready for ‘pick-up.’

We kind of groaned inwardly. Great. One of those places. We just wanted to be waited on hand and foot, having just travelled 3 hours by plane and then 1 hour of winding road followed by sudden tropical rain onslaught.

But we were hungry, so on we went.

The drinks were paid for at the bar, and brought back to the table by the payer – which was Hubbie in this case.

I had a white wine, since I couldn’t fathom drinking my old fave red in this heat. With the ordering of baby girl’s meal, we also received a free drink, so Hubbie opted for an OJ that we all sipped on after our meals.

She had also received a little kids colouring set that included some crayons, and some pages of activity paper in a little paper box. That, along with her Santa water-drinking cup, all ended up on the floor at several times. She was still getting used to the change of atmosphere and was finding it ‘challenging,’ diplomatically speaking. However at other times, she did scribble on the paper, so I was fortunate for those minor blissful moments of peace.

Soon after we all received our meals. Mine was the Prawn Hot Pot

Hubbie’s was the Flame Grilled Rib Fillet, atop mashed potato and a side of veg

While baby girl’s was the Spaghetti ~~Napoletana.~~

My meal was very nice. I loved the combination of the prawns with the oil, capers, chilli and garlic, and it was so flavoursome that after I was finished I was still scooping the very hot dish to get out more delicious remnants of oily goodness… but there was one problem with that. You see, I had very, very, little rice.

Surprisingly, there were a lot of prawns. I was actually surprised how many prawns I received. I just kept fishing one out after another from the dish, and was constantly surprised when I discovered “more!” Which is why I was even more baffled as to why I wouldn’t have enough rice to accompany it. It’s usually the other way around, you get like 3 prawns, and a whole plate of carbs to compensate. If provided with the options I would much rather have it this way, more prawns over rice… but honestly, I would love heaps, of both. Especially in soaking up all those chilli/garlic bits at the end, extra rice would have come in such handy. Due to the extremely cheap nature of this grain, my only conclusion is to assume they came across a rice shortage that night. That cannot possibly be the normal serving for that dish.

I also received a side of ‘salad,’ which was more garnish, or visual accessory to pretty the plate, as it had no dressing, it was just thin pieces of carrot and cabbage.

Hubbie said he enjoyed his steak, but said the mash tasted like packet mashed potatoes. What?! Having not had the misfortune of having to endure such food torture, I can’t say I know from experience what that tastes like, but when I tried it did taste different… I’ll take his word.

And after baby girl’s experience, I now know never to order spaghetti for her again.

First things first, Hubbie had ordered napoletana for her. Yet her pasta, had meat in it. We had received spaghetti bolognaise, not the meat-free version. This wasn’t such a problem, we are fortunate that she is not vegetarian, and I hope for the sake of this food-lover she never will be. But at the end of the day, it was wrong.

Also, it was a bit bland. Just a standard sauce, not even much flavour to it. And as for the spaghetti, well it’s not their fault… but independent, toddler and spaghetti are words that should not be in a sentence together. Allowing a stubborn toddler to eat spaghetti on their own is just… hell. It’s just so wrong, so difficult and absurd on so many levels. Throw in an OCD Mum who rips out wet wipes faster than you can say ‘catch that dribble!’ and you have a high-intensity, stressed-out group of diners.

Hers was also accompanied with a big piece of toasted bread on the side, adding to the carb-fest even more.

Despite all this we ate what we had, and left as soon as we could. It had been a long day.

Food: 6/10. Think pub food.

Coffee: N/A on our visit, we didn’t need caffeine, we needed sleep…

Ambience: Bustling, busy, noisy. Like I said, think pub, and combine that with your casual family diner.

People: A mix of all, we were in a holiday spot after all. There were young families, mid-range established families, fathers with their on-the-verge-of-teenhood sons playing billiards, a mother and daughter having a quiet meal and watching baby girl run away from us and stand up in her high-chair, and your typical Aussie blokes cruising in to pick up pizza for takeaway.

Staff: They were busy, but were still nice. The door guy who had initially forgotten us was attentive when he realised we had nothing, the guy handing out meals was apparently “really relaxed” about the whole spectacle of it being Saturday night, and the others that tended to us were friendly.

Price: It was about $80 for the lot, the two drinks, and the three meals. I think, a tad much for the quality of what we received, but I get that when you’re in a holiday spot, the same rules don’t apply anymore Toto.

Advice: Saturday nights, peak holiday times, and post 7pm are times that are difficult to be seated no matter where you are in Port Douglas, unless you have booked. So if you don’t book, be prepared to get there earlier and avoid the rush time. They did appear to have ample seating though, so it may just be a case there of ‘be seated, but just wait a while for your food in the queue.’

In a nutshell: It was a very average bar, to be honest the kind that we tend to avoid, only because the food quality is never quite up to scratch. Despite this, had my rice been in more abundance, I would have walked away very content and surprised with the establishment. Instead, it leaves me in confidence of why we don’t go to these types of restaurants, as there is always something lacking, even though we still dish out a bit of coin.

I liked the surroundings, and I perhaps would even try a pizza there for lunch… the restaurant is not bad, it’s simply that we have eaten at so many great restaurants, that anything average is not worth giving a second shot. 10 years ago, we would have gone back without question. Times change. So solely based on our tastes, I don’t think we would have dinner there on our return to Port Douglas. No more humming for us.

Sightings of People as Passionate about (Addicted to) Coffee as I am (SOPAPACAIA) #5 & #6

February 15, 2016April 6, 2016 / smikg / Leave a comment

It has been a while, but do not believe it’s because my coffee radar has been turned off.

Life. Baby girl. Hubbie. Writing. Reviews. And always, ALWAYS coffee.

Two noms to two work colleagues:

SOPAPACAIA Sighting #5

Docklands cafe

Sighted: Work dude from an adjoining department

Not so much a when-and-where, but the frequency of his coffee-at-work outings. Known to have coffee at the onset of café opening at 7am, then to return again to the same café hours later for ANOTHER caffeine hit.

Wow. My idol.

SOPAPACAIA Sighting #6

My workplace

Sighted: My fellow work colleague, who after (not so aggressive – actually, none at all) persuasion, decided to come and get a coffee with me on my morning walk only 7 days into his month-long coffee hiatus.

He couldn’t be without coffee anymore. And guess what? He drinks mochas.

🙂

‘Change’ the wood

January 21, 2016January 26, 2016 / smikg / 3 Comments

Copperwood
318 Lygon Street Carlton

We made our way here for dinner on Boxing day, winding down from the massive Christmas that had just passed. It was exciting, because we were returning to our old dinner grounds – sure we had lunched and cafed at Lygon since having baby girl, but this was our first time coming around for dinner with her. That was exciting. She is currently passing Bs in the café culture scene, and is pushing a C+ for her restaurant savvy-ness. She’ll be a coffee and food snob like us in no time.

So it kind of made sense that we would end up at the place that we had visited so often in our pre-baby days, when we talked life, love and our passions, while sipping on a glass of Di Giorgio’s and sculling some beers – Copperwood.

It’s positioning on Lygon street makes it continuously busy, but it can deal with the masses because it’s a long venue, and there is plenty more seating far behind the first seated area you walk into, which they always tightly-pack to make it look more appealing to passers-by.

We’d always had great experiences there. Nothing was particularly mind-blowing, but both food and wine had been thoroughly enjoyed. In my pre-baby era I was in love with the Di Giorgios Cab Sav from Coonawarra, even going so far as to track down the supplier and almost order a box (or 5) to be delivered interstate.

Almost.

This Saturday that we ventured upon Copperwood, we were seated initially not in the first section, but the seating that passed the little Christmas tree they had positioned high up near the bar. The old man, a regular there that we remember well, led us to a small table with regular chairs. I asked if they had a high chair, to which I received “no.” Just plain old no. No, apologies, no ‘let me try to make something else work for you.’ No. I don’t know if common sense prevailed him, or whether he’d been removed from the child-rearing years for so long that he’d actually lost touch, or maybe they were just very busy and he couldn’t think. I went for the latter in my mind, because we were hungry and we had returned to a favourite Lygon haunt. I gave him the benefit of the doubt, and turned to the booths against the wall in the first section of the restaurant, and asked “can we sit there?”

So, in effect, I seated MYSELF. In light of a high chair, baby girl and I sat in the booth, while Hubbie sat opposite.

Soon, menus arrived. Our waitress was lovely, and when we told her to bring baby girl’s meal first, it came very quickly with no delay. This was a plus.

But first were our drinks. Of course you can guess what I ordered:

My old fave, Di Giorgios, while Hubbie got a beer.

Very soon after came our appetiser of Bruschetta, while baby girl got her chips here too.

The bruschetta actually came with 3 pieces, however we were so keen on getting it in our mouths that I only remembered to take a photo when there was one left. Oh well, you get the picture.

Everything was going well, and we were happy. Baby girl was eating and being relatively good, there was still some festive spirit in the air with a little Christmas tree near the bar, plus a modern take on a decorated leafless tree in the middle of the room. I loved it.

Soon after, the mains. For me:

The garlic prawns – sautéed prawns with garlic, white wine and cream sauce accompanied with steamed vegetables

And for Hubbie, the Rib Eye Steak, accompanied with mashed potatoes, gravy and steamed vegetables

My description had said vegetables, so I had been expecting many different colours on my plate. To see an abundance of broccoli laying on top of my prawns, I found a tad annoying. It’s annoying because they got away with it, because after all the menu just said ‘vegetables,’ not ‘varied vegetables.’ The broccoli atop the prawns gave it an appearance that I didn’t particularly like. But the meal itself was ok. A very mild garlic flavour, plenty of prawns, and moor-ish rice. I wouldn’t say it was the best garlic prawns I’ve had, but it was good.

Hubbie was in love with his meal. “This,” he told me with passion, “is char-grilled.” Oh Lord, thank you. And guess what? It hadn’t even been advertised as char-grilled, so his adoration was even more intense for this hunk of meat on his plate. I did try a bit, and yes it was very flavoursome, so I could understand his excitement. He was understandably (when you understand my Hubbie) happy. He was talking about coming back already, and just couldn’t get over his amazing steak. But like my meal, his vegetables were also just broccoli.

As we were getting through our meals, I realised that I needed to change our baby girl. I told Hubbie to not let the waitress take away any of our meals, since I was still unfinished, and tried to flag down a waitress to enquire where I could find a baby change table. I was soon informed, and shocked to learn that there was NO BABY CHANGE TABLE. Nothing.

Still in a bit of disbelief that a long-standing restaurant such as Copperwood, on Lygon street, in an inner-city suburb like Carlton, that has toilets, and room for a baby change table, (albeit a fold-out one is more than ok – Common Place had exactly the sort in their women’s bathroom when we went there) yet DID NOT have one, was utterly surprising. I knew the only thing left to do was to quickly scoff the rest of my meal down and pay and leave, with baby girl resigned to being changed in the boot of our car. That was our only option.

However as I tried to eat, I got increasingly frustrated thinking of the ludicrousness of the whole situation, and flagged yet another waitress down in the hopes that the first one had been severely misinformed. She had to find out upon my question, but came back apologetic and saying that they most definitely DID NOT have a change table.

“What era are we living in?” I asked Hubbie. “Seriously, little cafes have change tables, and this place doesn’t?”

Baby girl was in need of a change and starting to get really irritable, and was barely letting me finish the rest of my meal, though I managed it down. Hubbie had to go outside with her while I packed up our things and went to the bar area to pay. It was a quick getaway, and a disappointing one too.

As I approached Hubbie outside, he was holding baby girl in his arms and in the midst of a decent disagreement with the floor manager – you know, the person in charge of overseeing and seating the customers. He was an accented man, and they were going back and forth as people around the front started to tune their ears in. Hubbie had been asked by our specific waitress if everything had been alright – Hubbie had said the food was great, but was disappointed there was no change table, and no high chairs.

“We have a high chair.”

“The waiter told us there weren’t any.”

“It must have been in use?”

“You’re telling me you have one high chair for all of these people?” Hubbie motioned behind him to the people inside.

“I’m sorry we are not a kindergarten.”

Oooh. Ouch. Let me be clear. The way the man said it, was not in malice. He was being defensive in Hubbie’s angry onslaught of complaints. But still. Do you know I could have gone to facebook with that comment? If I had gone online with that quote “we are not a kindergarten” unquote remark from the door manager of Copperwood on Lygon Street, in this day and age of instant news, that would have made it on all the morning shows. That was the wrong, wrong, wrong thing to say.

Hubbie continued angrily, saying it was a matter of seating your guests, not about being a kindergarten, and by this stage I was shooing him off and the manager was apologising for us being upset, as we walked away.

Far out.

Food: 7/10. That’s averaged because mine was ok, whereas Hubbie’s was great.

Coffee: N/A previously, N/A now and N/A never ever after….

Ambience: It was busy and bustling, noisy, perfect for having kids in tow as you’re not concerned about any noise your child may contribute to. But remember that’s a contradiction, because they don’t have ample high chairs and a change table, so it’s not perfect for kids after all.

It’s modern and dim interior makes it a lovely place to dine and wine away, if you don’t have small children.

People: A mix, there were all kinds, in particular a large group of men on one table near us (must have been some kind of late Christmas party) and some friends catching up for dinner beside us. All kinds were about on this Boxing Day evening. I didn’t see too many toddlers like baby girl, so maybe other parents of younglings have cottoned on to this child discrimination before we had.

Staff: They were attentive, in particular our waitress was ever too nice and bringing over extra napkins and plates for baby girl, especially after she witnessed me taking photos.

Price: It was $102.50 for an appetiser, a side, two mains and two alcoholic drinks. It was on the mark for the amount we paid. However as we walked away that money missing in my wallet stung as I recalled the ‘kindergarten’ remark.

Advice: I don’t think you have to book, unless you want seating in a particular location in the restaurant – there seems to always be seats if you’re not fussy. If you have toddlers and babies that require changing as children often do (newsflash!) and high chairs so that they don’t fall off adults chairs, maybe it’s best you don’t come. You can wing it by hoping your child won’t poop her nappy while you’re there, and just sit her beside you in the booth… but that’s a fun risk to take, parent.

In a nutshell: In a LONG nutshell – the food was great, the ambience was great, the waitresses were good, and yet the deliberate exclusion to children there, was absolutely unacceptable, wiping out any plusses we may have experienced that night.

We used to like it back in the day… and I’m sad to say those days are over. Just like the wine that I used to favour so much, honestly, even before the change table incident, it didn’t taste as good as it used to. As time goes on, tastes change. And unfortunately for Copperwood, a restaurant that should be growing with the times, one that is continuously busy and can afford a couple more high chairs as well as a change table to cater for ALL its customers, has clearly made their minds up over who is important to them.

If you don’t have children, never have and never will, well you’ll love this place. So did we once upon a time.

If you have small children, had them, or are planning on having them in the future, please, I ask you to boycott this restaurant UNTIL THEY GROW SENSE ON THEIR TREES (and not just the lamps and Christmas baubles) and get a bloody cheap arse change table and some more high chairs. Then, and only then, should anyone with an inkling for liking little ones even consider going there to eat.

I don’t know if that day will ever come for us. Because really, in a NUTSHELL –

They don’t care for our kids; therefore, we don’t care for them.

Sit on that wood.

(Just for fairytale ending’s sake, the night did end nicely with superb coffee and cake at Brunettis, where our darling girl received some surprise, special treatment to make up for the other.)