Weekend Food Escapades

Saturday night after 7 pm and looking for a restaurant in Surry Hills, is never a good idea. Every single decent restaurant is full, hungry-looking people are standing in line, frustrated folks are seated but not served.

Craving for Indian food, we peered into 5 or 6 Indian restaurants on Cleveland St but were thoroughly discouraged. Finally we stepped into one which didn't look too crowded. After sitting down for 3 minutes and not even given a menu, plus checking out the other tables which had customers with no food whatsoever, we decided to cut our losses quickly and run.

We finally ended up going to Emon, a Japanese restaurant which we have always passed over in favour of our all-time favourite, Komachi. Emon is slightly pricier than Komachi but their presentation is good, so is the food. The prawn gyoza was tasty and so was my main course, the kingfish teriyaki. The only drawback was the very sweet teriyaki sauce was fortified with MSG, which subsequently caused me to react to it with leaden arms and constriction in the left side of my chest. But I think I will still give Emon another chance, but just order something which is not so "saucy".

Sunday lunchtime, we went on the hunt for food again. Again, we sat down in an Italian cafe which didn't look very busy. With a sense of deja vu from the night before, we waited in vain for the menu (at least start with giving us some hope - and a menu!) and suddenly an influx of people from the streets descended into the cafe to either order takeaway coffees or pay their bills and we were forgotten. So once more, we decided to cut our losses and leave.

A safe bet was the COFA cafe (actual name is the Cafe on The Other Side) but since it is on the other side of the College of Fine Arts, for short, it's always been referred to as the COFA cafe. The coffee was good, service was reasonable and the beef and tomato pie I had was yummy but small.

G was not full from his tomato and avocado sandwich and after some mega shopping-hunt for jeans, he needed a pitstop to fill that void in his stomach. So we trotted down to the Maltese cafe for some homemade ravioli, fat pockets of freshly made pasta stuffed with ricotta, doused with homemade tomato sauce. It was a deliciously large portion for a small price.

And so another weekend of eating, another new work week starts.
But now that I've been pink-slipped, the impending work week doesn't have the same knell of doom and gloom as it usually does on a Sunday night. How very ironic indeed...