Tag: easter

Bunny boiling

Shad­ows grow longer, leaves turn to rus­set and fall to the damp earth, and an autum­nal chill set­tles upon our fair city. So what bet­ter time to cel­e­brate the new life and fruit­ful­ness of spring?

Yes, East­er is upon us, so we should pre­pare our­selves for seri­ous con­tem­pla­tion of the great­est mir­a­cle of all. Choco­late.

The good peo­ple at Truf­fle are always ready to help cel­e­brate the abun­dance of nature, or at least the edi­ble por­tion of it, and they have some spe­cial good­ies for the sea­son. Bags of Pied­mon­tese choco­late eggs by Venchi are a snip at $14.95 for 135 grams, and they’re also stock­ing some spe­cial items from Welling­ton’s favourite alchemists of con­fec­tionery, Schoc. Those with a farm­yard fetish can pre­tend that they’re in a Cad­bury’s ad and gorge them­selves on choco­late rab­bits and poul­try, while aes­thetes might pre­fer the one-off hand-paint­ed hol­low eggs. In the same vein as their Christ­mas bars (real gold, frank­in­cense and myrrh), they offer East­er choco­late bars flavoured like hot cross buns. What sor­cery is this?!?

Of course, when one thinks of East­er, one thinks of cabaret. No? Must just be me then. But it seems that oth­ers think the same way, since on Good Fri­day Sand­wich­es will be home to “She­ba’s Dirty Thir­ties Cabaret”. Any­one who’s seen one of She­ba’s cabaret per­for­mances (such as at last year’s Mid­night Bur­lesque) will know that “dirty” won’t be an exag­ger­a­tion.

For those who pre­fer a more sedate cabaret expe­ri­ence, Eate­ria de Manon (by all accounts the best French restau­rant south of Majorib­anks St) is hav­ing a trib­ute to Edith Piaf on Sun­day night. For $55 you get a three course meal and live music from local Piafophiles Sans Souci. I’m not sure what will be on the menu for the night, but they are known for such dish­es as squash and pork trot­ter soup, brioche-crumbed lambs brains and squid stuffed with wild goat. While those of a sen­ti­men­tal per­sua­sion can ooh and ahh over cute­ly gam­bol­ing east­er lambs, isn’t it nice to think that some of us will be eat­ing their brains?