Despite belonging to a cohort of money-wasting millennials who eat out, on average, nine times a week, there are embarrassing gaps in the places I’ve dined out at.
It would have been easy to follow my intolerances at Teta Mona, a cosy and contained Lebanese eatery on what wankers like me term the ‘good end’ of Lygon Street, but Teta Mona has a sharing menu and that put a spanner in the works.
It’s certifiably unwise to follow up a bloat-filled dinner at Ricky & Pinky with breakfast pasta the morning after, particularly one that doesn’t come in a gluten-free version, but not for the first time, I couldn’t resist.
Ricky & Pinky was on my radar, but it wasn’t until my in-laws gifted me with a voucher to dine there (shout out to the wonderful O’Deas!) did it supersede all the other places on my list.
Northern Git was suggested as the perfect place for a mid-week dinner, and after realising it was on my 180-page list of places I want to try in Melbourne, I started rapaciously scouring the menu – deciding at least two days in advance that we would definitely be having the spicy chicken wings with blue cheese.
Most people find the idea of fake (or mock) meat unfathomable or reprehensible or both, which is why I was slightly hesitant to tell people that I was celebrating my birthday by going to Vegie Hut, a vegetarian restaurant in Box Hill famous for its fake meat.
One of my favourite job interviews wasn’t one that resulted in me getting hired, but rather one where they took me out to Kaprica and paid for me to have a risotto.