21 Wunulla Road POINT PIPER
Phone:93276828
Review originally posted on the 19 January 2003
Water obviously finds it’s own level. Now I’m about 80% fluid, and I’m at the Royal Motor Yacht Club of NSW, and, I'm not here to carry plates either.
I’ve found my billabong. It’s damn good.
People often despise regal shacks like this until they actually go inside and enjoy some camaraderie.
I doubt whether the “celebrity culture” holds much sway here. Although, its currency of accomplishment whispers like lovers do.
Inside I was amongst several invited guests celebrating the union of marriage.
Breathtaking nautical outlooks were no match for the gorgeous bride and her groom, heralded into their future happiness with O Mio Babbino, Mozart Clarinet Concerto in G, and Crazy Love by V. Morrison. Strengthening a commitment shared already.
And didn’t the bridesmaids look lovely? Yes, but it was the food that filled my heart.
Salmon was with soba noodles, or, “perhaps sir” an anti-pasto stack to start. Nicer than goopy vol-au-vents or hazardously smoked chicken. Banged down in front of you by some chinless specimen. Here the youngsters are civilized. Not the listless progeny of some arduous committee member.
Mains brought a rack of lamb, otherwise, 'a wild barramundi fillet.'
Well anyway, I’d traded away my salmon earlier and sorely required something in possession of fins. A roma tomato escort of immense sweetness outfitted my fish, as did smashed, (almost crushed, nowhere near mashed) potatoes sidle alongside the rack.
An error of judgment on my part resulted in absconding before desert.
I’ll never live it down.
These things remain silent in polite society.
You can dress me up, but you can’t take me out.
I am sorry Justin and Nicky.
- Peter Thornton January, 2003
Publishing the unpublishable while growing up and finding complacency
- Jimmy Olsen
- Sydney, Australia
- So far, much of the content here started life as a rather embarrassing personal journal, but it's now something I can begin to be proud of. In a warped way, both my sites are the growing inbred children of the now defunct parental site: www.butterboxmedia.com and characteristically (if not genetically) remain under construction. So for that I will apologize, but I won't ever say sorry for my inability to deal with the everyday, the trashy, the crappy, the dismissive, mass stupidity, the bland and the empty. Below are a few reviews from long ago that I exhumed from www.landofsurfandbeer.com.au, a site where I once occasionally posted under the screen name of hed. I have not changed the content of the reviews, however I have corrected my naff punctuation, incorrect spelling and frequent inability to use grammar correctly. Who knows? Perhaps one day this too will be corrected. In the meantime, the best hope you have at getting me to post anything about anything is by virtue of either being really terrible or really wonderful. Roll the dice.
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