Weekend with the Banker

Well what a delightful few days it has been in the 'big smoke'! Sydney is, without a doubt, one of the most beautiful cities in the world. Having spent more than a decade living there I feel very nostalgic when visiting, even with the realisation that I would need to triple my income to afford a shoe-box in the outer suburbs.

After the joys of an all day workshop, it was with considerable relief that I arranged to meet the Banker at a Newtown pub with excellent Thai food last Thursday evening. What a change! On my last visit - which I must admit is around 8 years ago - it was a slightly daggy pub with good food. Now it is an extremely yuppified hostelry, complete with bored wait-staff exhibiting the sneering expression required to put any non-scene, non-young, non-trendy punter severely in their place.

Not to be deterred, we had a few drinks with one of my delightful colleagues and then adjourned to the restaurant for a Thai feast. All fabulous, until I made a very, very, VERY bad mistake. Not wearing my glasses in a fairly dim environment, I did not recognise the tasty looking morsel on my plate for what it was - a fried red chilli.

The problem with chilli is that it doesn't immediately identify itself. No - it hides behind a bland exterior for just enough time to spread all over the inside of your mouth before revealing its true nature and sending you reaching for whatever liquid is within easy reach... I blame my subsequent hangover on the fact that the only liquid within sight was a bucket of Sav Blanc! Well, I guess it could have been worse...

This set the scene for a lovely weekend with wonderful Sydney friends tag-teaming from one meal to the next. The venue was the Banker's converted warehouse in the Inner West which is a marvel of modern, spacious living. Maybe when I win the lottery?

I had brought my Donna Hay mags (a complete necessity) and managed to provide a faaaabulous cider roasted pork extravaganza on Friday night for Steve the Delightful Accountant and his equally delightful wife, Jen. If I say that we started the night with a feisty political discussion and progressed from there, you'll get the idea. At least the Banker and I won at cards...

Saturday brought Cuddlebum and the Gourmet in from the wilds of the western suburbs and set me a gastronomical challenge. The Gourmet is one of those people who appears to go to no effort for a dinner party. From her kitchen position she gets stuck into the wine and the conversation with the best of us, while appearing to cut up an onion here, and perhaps stir a pot there every once in a while. So it is always a complete mystery how, at some appointed hour, we take our seats at the table and have a banquet of at least a dozen sensational dishes set in front of us. I have given up trying to work out how she does it - I'm just suitably amazed and grateful every time I'm on the receiving end.

Of course, this does present a challenge for a less talented cook such as myself but (again with the help of Donna) I think all went well. The chocolate filled crepes crusted in cinamon sugar were a hit...

For Sunday lunch we decided to decamp for the local pub - the thought of (me) cooking another meal and (the banker) having to clean up after - being too much. The M&M's were our company on this occasion and, yet again, the wine and the conversation flowed freely.

So into the cab, on to the airport, and back to good old Adelaide. Nice to be home but - oh - I do love that town and all the gorgeous people in it!