GSMS - Balmain Cafe #1

Although this is the second post of the Great Sydney Martini Search, and the first post was about the fourth bar, this post is about the first and second bars, which weren’t bars but cafes.

If you need me to repeat that, I will but I cannot promise it will make any more sense the second time it did the first time around.

The first two bars (cafes) that we visited were pretty much as soon as I got of a red eye flight, which should explain the puffy eye and airplane hair. My friend lives in this cute little neighbourhood called Balmain. It is surrounded by the Sydney harbour on three sides and overlooks the skyline, Harbour Bridge and the tops of the Opera House.

We were eager to get started on the Martini Search, so we headed out across the street to a little cafe, the name of which I do not recall.

We asked the host if we could get a couple martinis. He looked at his watch, looked at us and said, “Now?”

He face looked a bit confused. You could see his mind ticking over and then surrendered, “Sure, have a seat. I will make you some martinis!” Then he got really excited.

“What kind of martinis were you after?”

“The kind with vodka, dirty & three olives,” I said.

He looked confused again. “Not gin?”

I am going to make a sidenote here that I am not interested in starting that whole boring debate as to which is a more traditional martini, gin or vodka. The fact of the matter is that vodka is more commonly used in the US and gin is more commonly used in the UK & British Commonwealth countries.

I prefer vodka.

About 20 minutes later, the host came back with the martinis, looking as proud as a father showing off his newborn twins.

That is correct. You see in the picture before you, two glasses filled with ice, topped with a metal bowl (normally used for dips) with three skewered olives (un-pitted).

Bless him because he tried so hard and the results did make me laugh, his mind was ticking over on how to keep the martini as cold as possible and that was the result.

He gets an ‘A’ for effort.

The martini, however, gets an ‘F’.

The host was so proud of his creation that I didn’t have the heart to tell him it stunk. Out of politeness, I had to drink my entire martini and all of my friend’s martini.

SYDNEY MARTINI CRITIQUE - THE IVY

First stop on the Sydney Martini Tour – the pool bar at The Ivy.

DISCLAIMER: This wasn’t actually the first stop on the martini tour, it was the fourth, but these are the only pictures I have at the moment.

The Ivy is an exclusive bar and restaurant establishment in Sydney’s CBD. On the roof of The Ivy is a pool and several bars that cater to a crowd of non-exclusives who stand around trying their best to look and act like they are exclusive. We all know the type.

The member’s changing rooms are numbered with silhouettes of different sexual positions. It’s not the cleverest idea nor is it tastefully done and looking around, neither is the clientele.

They also have a basement. This is not one of the bars, but an actual basement. Most recently used (after my visit) by The Ivy’s bouncers to bound and gag an unruly patron and beat him senseless, followed by a quick clean-up of the scene by the staff maids before the police arrived.
Nothing says “Class” like a basement beating cover-up.

The pool bar is excellently decorated with large multi person sun loungers and private cabana booths in aqua blue and lemon yellow. The colour scheme is so carefully adhered to that even the cocktails match the decor.

It reminded me of The Lucy Show when Lucy worked at the bank and the drapes and carpet were the exact shade of red as her hair and the furniture always matched her outfit.

I take any opportunity to pretend I am a dead actress, so I ordered a yellow drink, which I think was called a “Martini Francaise” or something similar made using fresh pineapple, lemons and other stuff which I do not recall.

You must remember even though I said this was the first martini stop, it was actually the fourth.
The ‘martini’ was difficult to judge as previously I was comparing traditional martinis. This was a cocktail martini so it had to be judged on its own merit.

The verdict: Way to much citrus for my liking. The fresh pineapple was overpowered by the lemon juice. It gave me heartburn but it did match the decor!

This cocktail just wasn’t to my taste, however the bartender was very pleasant to talk to (and by that I mean he had big muscles and a tight shirt) and they used only fresh ingredients that were squeezed, smashed, muddled and juiced as ordered.

As for the atmosphere, once I got my cocktail and was able to lounge on a nice comfy big sun lounger and focus on having a good chat with my friends, I was in heaven.

At the end of the day, isn't that what it's all about?

THE GREAT SYDNEY MARTINI SEARCH 2011

This past weekend I enjoyed an awesome trip to Sydney to visit some friends.


I flew the Red Eye flight and landed in Sydney at 6:00am. What does someone who is exhausted from a sleepness night on a plane and someone else who has woken up before the birds to get to the airport decide would be fun?

Sleep, you say?

Nope.

We decided that 6:00am was just the right time to pay a visit to different bars and restaurants around town, order martinis and then critique them.


Now, Australia is known for some great things - Sun, Beach, Actors, Poisonous Creatures - but, unfortunately, classic martinis are not one of them.


Sure, they do plenty of martini cocktails (you know, chocolate martini, espresso martini, apple martini, etc) but not your classic vodka/gin martini.

Needless to say, there were some interesting comments from the waiters on if they could make one and there were some even more interesting results from the bartenders that tried!

Unfortunately, I have no photos. At least not for a few more days, anyway. However I was so excited that I finally had something to blog about, I thought I would tease you about it first.

YOU LIKE ME, YOU REALLY LIKE ME

OK Well I got a few slaps on the wrist for the complete tease of a post last time.

I thought that I could do better with keeping the updates coming, especially since for my birthday months and months ago, I got a brand new Mac something or rather. It has a massive screen. We are not talking just a big screen, this thing is HUUUUUUUUGE.

Way to big to sit and look directly into the screen without going blind within five minutes. To solve this problem I have the Mac up on the dining table, longways. The screen is 3 seats down the table and I will be blind by time I finish writing this post. Hope it was worth it.

So what else has been going on?

Well, we are selling the farm and moving to Sydney.

A few weeks ago I saw Caroline O'Connor in concert and the past Monday I got to see the legendary Chita Rivera.

You may or may not be aware, but Caroline O'Connor is an English-born Australian musical theatre legend. Chita Rivera, of course, is an American musical theatre legend.

What do these two have in common (you know, besides a theatre full of homos)?

Caroline O'Connor was the original Velma is the Australian revival of Chicago.

Chita was the original Velma in Chicago full stop.

I have also seen Bebe Neuwirth when she was the original Velma in the Broadway revival of Chicago.

This got me to thinking that after seeing so many original Velmas are any Velmas original anymore?

It also got me to thinking that so after seeing so many musical theatre legends, the American legends rave on about Sondheim and the British legends rave on about Andrew Lloyd Webber, which is probably the real reason for the Revolutionary War.

I also got a couple new DVDs. Grey Gardens with Drew Barrymore and Jessica Lange. I am totally in love with this movie and watch it at least once a week. I sometimes even find myself speaking in the accent of Little Edie.

The other DVD I bought was The Big C with Laura Linney. Number one, I adore Laura Linney. Number two, I was in fits of laughter and tears throughout the entire series.

The only downside is that every time my dog sniffs my leg, I think I have cancer. I also keep making decisions as if I only have two years to live.

Let's see... what else?????

Tonight for dinner I had two hot dogs and an ice cream sundae.

What is going on with you???!!!

TESTING. TESTING.

Is this thing on??

HOME IS WHERE THE HEART IS...

...And the heart of the home is in the kitchen.

Stuart and I were lucky enough to have a 4 day weekend this past week and got another brilliant idea to do a quick makeover on the house.

We got as far as the kitchen.

Here is the before... However BEFORE I begin, this whole makeover thing reminds of that talk show Jenny Jones... Remember that one. I think every show she did was a makeover or then and now show... things like "I Went From Geek to Chic"

It was always something like a scrawny geek from high school who is all hot now brought on one of their old high school mates that turned them down for a date or made fun of them.

Anyway, before the introduced the former geek, they showed pictures of them in high school and the whole audience would yell things like "Ewwwwwwwwwww!!!!" and wave their hands in disgust.

So when I show you these BEFORE photos, I want you to shout out "EWWWWWWWW!!!" when you look at them.





Did you do it???

OK now in the grand tradition of Jenny Jones, when you see the after photos, you need to whoop and holler and give a grand applause.

Ready?

MOONLIGHT MADNESS

Soon after the previous boo-hoo-poor-me post I wrote, I was offered several jobs in a week.

I interviewed for this one job that was VERY interesting, however the guy didn't really seem very keen however he did ask for references, so I thought, well, I actually didn't think anything. I was already numb to the whole tedious process at that stage.

Then I got a call from a company that, at this stage, have kept me waiting for 6 weeks for a second interview. They did their weekly ring to see if I was still interested and available, to which they ended by saying that it will probably be another week before they can arrange the Director to be in town. Did I mention they said the same thing every other week they rang?

Later that morning I got a call from a company who I interviewed for on the previous day and they offered me a position. It was not a fantastic position, it was a step back in my line of work, but it was an immediate start.

I weighed up the options. I didn't think that Job #1 was really interested, Job #2 was the perfect job and the highest salary of the three but come on!!!! Six weeks!!! So I took what was behind Job Door #3... you know, as an interim position.

It was Friday afternoon, so I rang them back to accept the offer, when they told me that I needed to be in Sydney on Monday morning for a 10 day orientation.

I scrambled to pack 10 days worth of clothes for business, 10 days worth of evening clothes and 10 days worth of casual clothes and caught the Red-eye flight leaving Perth at 11:55pm Sunday and arriving in Sydney at 5:30 in the morning Monday. (It is only a 4 hour flight, so getting full sleep on the plane is not an option, however not complaining)

The first day of orientation was great, as it always is. Then went slightly downhill on Tuesday, and continued to decline from there. The job was not turning out to be what I signed on for. Sure it had some resemblance to the one I interviewed for and discussed in length with the employers about before accepting the position, however it was turning out to be like a drag queen taking off her make-up. Slowly the porcelain painted face washed aways to reveal a 5 o'clock shadow.

You know what I mean?

On the Thursday, I got a call and was offered Job #1. You know, the one that I liked but didn't think the guy was very interested.

I was over a friend's house that night and I relaying the story of this nightmare job and this new offer and it MIGHT have been the pitcher of Pimm's, 4 martinis, 2 glasses of wine and the espresso martini, however we came up with a plan of escape.

We snuck into my hotel, threw everything into my suitcase and crept through the halls, hiding if we heard the elevator or a voice. This hotel was old fashioned and I still had to check out at the desk, so we scanned the room for people and when it was safe I went to check out as they snuck my very large suitcase out of the side doors which were out of view and hailed a cab.

Once checked out I ran out the doors and we all dove into the cab as quickly as we could and sped off over the Harbour Bridge to freedom!

I didn't have internet access so Stuart who booked my flight back home that Saturday, who as the week went on, could sense something of this nature was going to happen.

I sent the company a quick resignation email and couriered back the phone, laptop, etc the next morning.

I almost forgot the best part! In the middle of all of this, I got a call from that slow motion company who kept me waiting at this point almost 7 weeks, to tell me that they have decided to offer me the position without a second interview. It may have been the drinks or it may have been the full moon but I really enjoyed telling them that they snoozed and they losed.