This is a bold statement.  Especially coming from someone who has been to New Orleans.  And Rome.  While Adolfo's on Frenchman Street remains at the center of my heart (two words - ocean sauce), Melbourne offered up treasures in food I did not see comin.  

Like any smart tourists, Holly and I gleaned our dining information from the locals.  It turns out one can become good friends with said locals by spending an excessive amount of money at their place of business.  (Holly, Lululemon cough cough).  Okay, I joined in on the fun.  A few hundred dollars later, I'm officially on the Lululemon train - please go buy their sports-bra (another life changer) - but that's another post entirely.  

While Holly was trying on her mountains of clothes, I struck up a friendship with a lovely young lady in a highlighter yellow shirt who seemed very excited about a discussion concerning food.  

I've come to find that you can trust these ultra fit people when it comes to food.  If you can weed out the sissies on weird diets who eat too much quinoa and not enough ice cream, they're a real wealth of knowledge.  Another clue, they tell you the names of actual dishes instead of the names of places.  "BEST espresso martini of my life.  Expensive as shit, but so worth it."  These are the people you want to seek out.  Holly and I left Lulu with an iphone list of places to visit - and trust me, we wasted no time.  Within minutes we were seated at Moat, an underground bar that reminded me very much of The Library in Wellington.  It had this sort of cigar lounge feel to it, something I really love.  Unfortunately, we had to sit and drink for a while before we could be served any food.  Shucks.  

Round 1 - Moat http://themoat.com.au/Welcome.html

They aren't on the menu anymore, but the first dish was these gorgeous meatballs topped with a rich velvety tomato sauce and parmesan shavings.  We licked the bowl.  Next, potted prawns with butter, shaved fennel, lemon zest and spices.  Finally, carpaccio of green mountain veal crusted in fennel pollen with caperberries, pink grapefruit segments, preserved lemon butter.  There was probably some wine tucked in that meal too...

Round 2 (aka Dinner #2 on the same night - that's how we roll) - Panama  http://www.thepanama.com.au/

Upon arriving at this off the beaten path gem, there was a couple screaming at each other in the street in front.  The lady half of this couple started throwin punches at which point the gentleman ran into the street and almost got hit by a moving bus.  Yep, we had found another great place.

This time, we mixed it up a bit with zucchini flowers stuffed with two cheeses, roasted red peppers, tomato, chilli and capers.  We also had this amazing ceviche and chestnut cake, but neither are on the menu anymore.  Trust me, they were gorgeous.  

Round 3 - Polly Cocktail Lounge http://www.pollybar.com.au/

Bourbon Butter - Makers, PB, Butterscotch Schnapps, Frangellico, Cream
Espresso Martini  - Wyborowa Vodka, Vanilla Liquer, Coffe Liquer, Espresso

After a very full day of eating, shopping, and exploring, it was time for bed.  We didn't even make it past 10 pm.  Amateur hour.  Don't worry, we were up bright and early and ready to do it again the next day - a day that led us to the best places yet.

Aspro Ble deserves a billboard.  A book, a chapter in the Bible.  I don't know, something.  It's incredible.  The food made me want to board a plane to Positano and lay amongst the whitewashed houses with all the goats.  It's just beautiful.  Lamb souvlaki, sagaki, calamari and prawn wontons with a lemon caper sauce, baklava, and loukoumades.  At the end of this meal, I was beggin the good lord for mercy, because I did not think I could stand up from the chair. I used to think I didn't like baklava.  When Holly ordered, I rolled my eyes in my head and thought "What is this, The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants?  Amateur hour over here!"  I was wrong.  This baklava changed my life with every. single. bite.  I can't even talk about it anymore.  

And finally, with the blessing of the great Annie Bergman, I visited her old stomping groups.  Lygon Street in Carlton.  For those of you who have never heard of it, imagine a street that smells of tomatoes and basil.  A street full of italians and greeks all calling out for your business.  "Basta! Basta! This is the one for you!"

An old Italian man stopped us as we were walking by.  "What does this sound like to you?  What kind of music ees dis?" "Um, I think that's techno.  Definitely techno."  "See son, I told you this was techno!  Absolute trash."  "Ladies, would you like a CD?"  And along we went. Next door down -  "You stop in here for lunch, we give you 30% off your whole bill."  We continue walking, drawn down the street by the promise of that one hidden gem.  Unlike yesterday, we came to Lygon Street unarmed with our arsenal of local knowledge, trusting that the wind would blow us in the right direction.  (I ended up asking a lady at a kitchen store where to go.  I couldn't risk it, but don't tell Holly).  To Tiamo we go.  I knew when we got there that this was the place.  San Pellegrino in glass, the magic arrives.  It is in the form of a truffle and mushroom handmade tortellini.  With the eggplant and chicken parmigiana, absolute and utter nirvana.  I was never sure what that naked baby was swimming after in the blue water, but I've finally found it.  It is Tiamo chicken parmigiana.  It is Aspro Ble Baklava.  It is here, in Melbourne, the greatest food city in the world.

Occasionally you put something in your mouth that is holy shit good.  There's just no other way to describe it.
In search of dessert good enough for a breakup (Melbourne is the perfect place to be if one finds themselves doing some relationship chopping) we ended up at Koko Black.  The world's best food recommenders, the employees of Lululemon, pointed us in the right direction.  This understated beacon of deliciousness was located on the Paris end of Collins Street, home to many a happy food experience.  

It started with the "Belgian Spoil" - described as a "traditional chocolate platter including walnut brownie, two pralines, florentine, ice cream, and mousse. " Holy. Shit. Good.  The ice cream tasted like a Disney movie - delicious, emotional, beautifully colored, deep in meaning while basic on the surface, just all of it.  A ridiculous medley of tastes that took me by surprise.  This mousse was the lightest but most decadent icing ever created.  The raspberry puree in a dark chocolate ganache kind of sent me over the edge at this point.  Holly and I exchanged nothing but curse words for about five minutes.  That's it, just intermittent periods of silence and cussing.  

Within twenty-four hours, we found ourselves back on Collins Street.  The iced coffee, equally decadent, went right down the hatch and jacked me up for hours.  We loaded up on chocolates for "our travels" (yea right, they barely made it into my purse) and continued the day in our chocolate induced reverie.  

Look, I eat a lot of chocolate.  I cannot remember a day in the last six months that I didn't eat at least a small amount.  Embarrassingly, (judge free) I eat it for breakfast far too often.  This is probably the reason I'm such a happy person.  When I tell you this is the best chocolate I've ever eaten in my entire life, you should believe me.  If you ever go to Australia, go to Koko Black.  It beat all the European chocolate I've tried, and that's sayin something.  Maybe they should sponsor me or send me free samples or something.?

June 11 was a very special day.  Holly and I had embarked on our tour de Australia and were hitting the Great Ocean Road with full force.  On day two of our long drive, we were informed that we'd be stopping.  Koalas en masse lived along this stretch.  After about a half hour of ecstatically searching through the trees, there were no koalas.  Dejectedly, I moped around the little side street like Eeyore, feelin realll blue.  Finally, one was spotted.  High in the canopy of the Eucalyptus tree, there he was.  I think.  I could barely make him out.  No matter, I stared up at him for a solid few minutes, crickin my neck and wondering how it would be received if I put my tree climbing skills to the test - just to become one with nature you see.  I had not realized at this point Holly was not next to me until I heard a "Casey...come here."  She was whispering.  "What is this fool doing?" I thought.  Why isn't she staring at this koala with me?  "Fine, I'm coming."  I followed her off the path and into some front yards.  And there, 8 inches from my head - was a koala.  A real, furry, grey eared, beautiful koala.  My eyes filled with tears and I didn't breathe in case he heard me - just stood there staring.  Holly started laughing.  This is the first time she fully experienced my ridiculous love for animals...not the "oh yea, I LOVE puppies" kind most people have.  This is the kind where you can feel your soul connect with theirs when you're around them - the kind where you feel a common empathy across the wavelengths that flow between your heart and theirs.  AKA - It's freakin serious man.  

Because of Holly's brilliant execution of the koala mission, no one followed us, ensuring that we had prime time access to this leaf plucker.  After about 7-10 minutes of intense eye connection with the koala, I realized that he really wasn't that interested in me.  Was I green and in the form of a toxic leaf?  Nope.  I think this sealed the deal as the end of our relationship, but I still had a hard time walking away.  As we sat back down in our little bus a few minutes later, I broke out my little blue notebook to pen down some thoughts.  I am not sure what happened to my penmanship at this juncture (not that I've ever had any) but the stuff that ended up on the page is barely intelligible.  

From these scribblings, some real gems - "Furry grey ears, heart almost stopped."  "Freckled nose and long dark fingers.  Pluck from the leaves as he snaps them from the limbs."  "Wondering if he was real.  He looks like a little bear, fat and soft.  Maybe yoda.  My heart feels happy."  

The next day, we headed to a mini wildlife refuge.  For ten bucks, you could have a "koala encounter."  I'm not sure how much closer I could get to one, but Holly looked at me when I was considering.  "Yea, right.  Go give them your money."  Oooookay.  Great days in Australia.

The late Garner Wayne had quite the way with words.  For instance:
"I'll be yours and I'll be true and I'll lay lots of eggs for you. I'll be yours for the rest of my life."  Followed by lots of chicken clucks.    


New Zealand has us on a lot of things.  Country music is not one of them.  For your listening enjoyment, have a listen to this classic New Zealand country song.  Happy Wednesday!