I went into Norwood on Friday. There’s a cafe there that I like to have breakfast at before going into the City. So I get off the bus on The Parade, and I happen to notice a middle-aged woman taking a girl’s picture. I, of course, don’t take much notice. Until the woman rushes up past me, turns around, and PHOTOGRAPHS ME!!! WTF?!? Why on Earth did she take a photo of me, without my permission, and more importantly, why did she scurry off after doing so? It was very odd, and weirded me out for much of the day.
After a very nice breakfast of black coffee and turkish bread (no link, sorry Kahn), I ducked into my favourite lolly shop (where I obtained lollies for my sweets reviews) and picked up some Polo mints, Warheads, Inch Licorice (the best licorice in the world) and a pack of cinnamon Tic Tacs. I then made my merry way off to the State Library, where I planned on writing an essay.
While writing the essay, I steadily made my way through the Tic Tacs. Being cinnamon, I expected a spicy tingle. But I wasn’t expecting anything like this. Halfway through the pack, I realised that my tongue was in horrible pain on a scale which I have never experienced; especially not from a small mint. I discovered that cinnamon burns.
That pretty much set the scene for the rest of the weekend. Without the use of my tastebuds, everything tasted like cardboard. Apart, of course, from strongly flavoured foods like Vegemite, Polo mints, and Warheads. Warheads taught me another lesson – don’t eat Warheads when your tongue is destroyed by cinnamon. It only makes it worse.
We went out for dinner on Saturday night to a place called Vintners. It’s in the Barossa Valley. The service was hilariously comical. When they gave us the menu, they only offered my brother a drink. No offer of wine or whatever to the other three occupants of the table. We eventually had to call them over, because not only had they not returned to offer us anything, they hadn’t brought my brother his drink. They took our orders, then offered my brother another drink. He said yes, because, as I said, his hadn’t arrived.
So the wine (and the long-awaited Coke) arrived. My beer didn’t. Hrm. We call a waiter over. Where was the beer? “Sorry, the Pale Ale’s not cold“. Riiight. It’s the most popular beer in SA, and you don’t have any cold Pale Ale? Brilliant work, there!
We waited for some incredible time for our entrees to arrive. We didn’t get any bread. The food was OK, but nothing incredible. I still couldn’t taste anything anyway. I wouldn’t have known what I was eating if it wasn’t plainly obvious that the things sitting in front of me were prawns. There was one thing I could taste, though. The little slivers of brown vegetable in the Asian salad? They weren’t onion. They were ginger. GINGER BURNS ALSO!!!
After another incredibly long wait, the main courses arrived. I’d ordered the red kangaroo curry. I was disappointed to see that ‘red’ meant the type of curry, not the tye of kangaroo. Some interesting little chips were sitting on top of the curry. They sorta looked like woodchips. I popped one in my mouth, to discover… OH CHRIST MORE GINGER!! My tongue was in serious pain by now. All I could taste was ginger, and its spiciness was causing great damage to my already burnt tastebuds. i carefully picked the ginger chips off the curry, and got to work on the kangaroo…
There was more ginger in the curry. Tiny little bits all through it, indistinguishable from the rest of the sauce, and stuck to the tender roo meat. I could barely eat it. 😦
Dessert was better (once it arrived, that is). I had plum cake with almond ice-cream. The sheer amount of almonds made it quite flavoursome. The coffee was OK too. Might I add, however, that despite the tastiness of the icecream, it was offset by the fact that NOBODY working there smiled. not once. It was weird.
Oh, and the bill included the beer that never arrived, and added an $11 corkage fee to the bottle of wine. Corkage fees only apply to BYO. Not when you buy a bottle of wine there. It’s like charging to open a can of Coke.
Sunday was a horrifically boring day at work. Nothing happened. And then I went home. Monday was exactly the same – just replace ‘work’ with ‘uni’. Today I stayed home to do some work instead of going to uni to do it. I probably shouldn’t have, but whatever.