Everyone knows that large corporations eat puppies, but what do the people who work for large corporations eat for lunch?
The Wellingtonista is closing down its Courtenay Place branch on Friday and is opening up in mid Lambton Quay instead. After a year and a half down this way, we’d just finally got the good people at Sahara Kebabs to know that we like just a few onions and garlic yoghurt, tahini and hot chilli on our (mixed vegetarian, mujaver and falafel only) kebabs. Where are we going to eat now?
For those who missed Tom discussing his Wellington Martini mission on Kim Hill’s Saturday morning National Radio, here’s a streaming mp3 link of the show. (Just click on it – it should fire up your default mp3 player and play the file. Don’t know how long the link will stay active, though.)
If windows media format is more your thing (and, if it is, may we recommend you review your digital media usage options), then head over the National Radio site and try changing the settings there.
The front page story on the Dominion Post is Party on, says dying Il Casino Boss, and all media grumbles about the horrible exploitative nature of that stupid newspaper aside, the Wellingtonista is really upset to hear that Remiro Bresolin has terminal cancer. Readers will surely know how dear to our hearts Il Casino, Scopa and Boulot are, so our thoughts and well wishes are with the family.
Okay, last week’s mystery bar was way too easy: it’s Electric Avenue in Courtenay Place, which has just opened in the two storey building vacated by Saffron last year. Most bars go for a stealthy approach when they’re under renovation, keeping their windows papered over until the opening, but Electric Avenue took the unusual approach of actually displaying architectural plans and sketches, so we all had a fair idea of how it would look when it opened.
So, now we have an Eighties bar: hooray.
When one thinks of Jerry Collins, one’s mind immediately turns to … elderflowers. That’s because Matterhorn’s “Jerry Collins” cocktail (a version of the classic Tom Collins) incorporates such manly ingredients as elderflower cordial and feijoa vodka. That’s hardly news to Wellingtonians, but its fame has spread across the Tasman and got a whole article in the Sydney Morning Herald’s “Rugby Heaven” (hat tip to Duncan in Sydney for the link).
When I asked the bar staff about it this morning, they hadn’t heard of the article, but they were amused to read their boss’s quote that “When the All Blacks or Hurricanes play in Wellington and feel like going to a bar for a drink they can come to the Matterhorn and nobody will mob them for autographs, or in many cases even know who they are”. They probably get mistaken for members of Fat Freddy’s Drop.
Apparently the name is ironic. Really? I thought it was because elderflowers are a diuretic.
Hadyn wrote about the National Barista Awards a few days ago.
At the edge of cutting edge blogging is the intrepid moi to report on action at the scene.
It is tense – well, not really, but it seemed an appropriate thing to say.
It is black. Well the people there are all in black, without exception, competitors and spectators alike.
It is free.
So get down there NOW. Have a coffee (free), listen to the DJ (free). Have a ball (priceless).
Level 3, Te Papa
There are plenty of issues I could be writing about today, such as whether the Harbour Quays development will suck the life out of the CBD, the merits of the new Cathryn Monro sculpture planned to go outside the Musuem Hotel, and of course the endless transport debates. However, I seem to have got into a pleasantly intoxigenic mode this week, so it’s time for another mystery bar.
Fellow Wellingtonistas, I am taking my in-laws out for dinner tonight. Any recommendations on a nice restaurant that isn’t The White House, Logan Brown, Il Casino, Boulot or Chow? Quiet ambience a definite plus.
I’m a big fan of Maria Pia’s. Excellent food; the service is ok to good (provided by the family, so that you know what to expect)… but maybe not hugely quiet.
In the same geographic and gastronomic area as Maria Pia’s is Francois. Nice, small and French. Try the snails.
If you’re after something at the level of The White House, Logan Brown or Il Casino, then try Citron or Martin Bosley at the Yacht Club. Definitely some of the most amazing food in the city, and quiet too. Also, while I haven’t been to Bisque at the Bolton Hotel, I’ve heard consistently great things about it.
It’s not quite so quiet, but Zibibbo is always good. Adam Newell’s one of only two Michelin-starred chefs in NZ, and more importantly, they do pizza! If the in-laws are partial to a bit of cow flesh, then I’ve heard that Crazy Horse is the place to go.
And I can heartily second the recommendation of Maria Pia’s, but it might be rather short notice.
thanks all – the Yacht Club gets the nod. Although good to have those others in reserve for future occasions…
Don’t you just love the Hive Mind?
Because she is obsessed with Elvis, and also maybe due to some experiences on tour buses that she alludes to but never puts her photos on flickr from, our intrepid publisher decided to treat us all from the Wellingtonista towers to lunch at Harem to celebrate the launch of the new URL.