Saturday night, Saturday night

There are three main eating strips in Newcastle.

Beaumont Street, Darby Street and The Foreshore.

With lots of little places splattered in between.

So Daz and I decided that we should test them all. We decided to start on the far left side of each street, work our way down then cross over and go back up the right side.

It should only take us about ten years.

There is a rule though, and that is that you have to go to every place. You can’t miss a place just because it looks like a sleazy dive. Because it still could have excellent food. Maybe.

So the first place we went to was a tapas bar that was on the ground floor of a Motel. It was small, it had nice wine, it was quite expensive and the toilets were clean. There wasn’t much of a vibe happening but we had a good night actually. We decided to give each place we go to a score out of 10. I think Daz gave this place 7 out of 10. I was going to give it 4 out of ten but that seemed harsh seeing as how it was the first place we’ve been to so I’ve upped it to 5 out of ten, because they only had two vegetarian options on the menu and forget about any vegan. And one of the vegetarian options was bruschetta so it doesn’t really count as a meal and it had great slabs of bocconcini on top anyway and I’m never sure how I feel about that rubber cheese. Dairy scares me and unless there’s a strong possibility of me starving to death I avoid it, so I flicked the cheese off the top and it was okay, although the bread was a bit soggy. Then I had the only other meat free option on the menu and that was corn fritters. They had pesto on them and it was very ordinary and had dairy in it anyway of course, so good night, not so great food and not a great price. I must say that Daz did enjoy his food because he had a bloody meatfest. (Not bloody as in raw, just as in lots of it).

Then when we were walking home we noticed that the next food place in the row was a Gloria Jeans and we decided that it wasn’t really the sort of place you go to for dinner (so yes we sort of broke the rule on the first night) so we decided that we’d stop in there and have coffee and cake instead. It’s the first time ever in my life that I’ve been to a Gloria Jeans and if it wasn’t part of the quest I probably still wouldn’t have been to one.

They do make a massive cup of coffee!

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7 thoughts on “Saturday night, Saturday night

  1. A dive-isih or truck-stop-ish place will probably give you a good – BIG – meal. So it’s wise not to pass these by.

    I live near a coffee shop – old, decrepit, always crowded. Mother and I decided to try it, but the place had some type of unidentifiable odor – certainly not food – and we walked right out.

    So don’t trust your eyes – trust your nose.

    • Lol, I’m not a fan of The Big meal. And those sorts of places rarely have vegetarian options. Can’t tell you how many times I’ve had to have a salad and chips. And they never make their own salad dressing, it’s always bottled/bought. We were out for lunch on Sunday and I almost choked to death when I inhaled the vinegar fumes on my salad.

      Funny you mention the smell though. There is an icecream shop on our walk and a couple of weeks ago we decided we’d stop in and check it out and as soon as we stepped in the door there was just this awful smell of sour milk. It reminded me of summer days when our kids were babies. We looked at each other and walked straight out. I couldn’t believe people were lined up in there. I don’t think anything must ever get a good hot wash.

  2. I’d try this, however, the food places by me are so far scattered that it would cost a bundle just to drive to them all. that and the Missus isn’t very adventurous in her eating habits. Of course, she grew up all meat and potatoes. Ah well, I catch places when I can. Sounds like the grand old adventure and also keeps you from having to cook. =)

    • Oh well we’re lucky because we can walk everywhere. My husband was like your wife before he met my mother. His childhood was all about dried out meat of some kind with mashed potato and soggy broccoli or cauliflower. I remember the first time I went there and was faced with this broccoli that I could see was precariously holding it’s form. I knew as soon as I put my fork into it, it was going to disintergrate. And in fact I always thought it was quite a miracle that she managed to get it from the saucepan to the plate without it falling apart.
      And yay for no cooking one night a week.

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