lovers and others

Cleaning out unpublished documents. This is a snippet from an unfinished post last year. A little outdated but the sentiments remain the same.

…We headed to St Jerome’s and in the Friday crush drank long necks of Coopers (him) and a passable house white in a tumbler (me).

Places like St Jerome’s remind me why Melbourne is a such a great city. It’s an unpretentious, no wine list, sit on milk crates in a laneway kind of place. It has a great buzz and the music is fab. I also love the fact that men have to cue just as long as the women, waiting for a stall in the unisex toilet – now that is equality, I reckon.

By 10 people were drifting off to other engagements, numbers were dwindling and my tummy rumbled so (despite his protests) I dragged him up Bourke Hill. Do they have beer where we are going? Yes. Are we almost there yet? Yes. Just one more block.

I got the urge to revisit the Nudel Bar. A favourite for years, I realised it had been far too long since I had been there last. When you hang out with the anti-carb brigade, it can be a bit hard to convince them a meal in a place that only sells noodles is where they must be.

The menu hadn’t changed. Nor the waiter. We got to sit upstairs overlooking the street, eye level with the treetops. While I waited for him to plough through the menu (a no brainer for me - there is only one dish I could possibly have after such an absence) I thought of all the people I had eaten and drunk with there, over the decade or so it had been open. There had been birthdays, rowdy girls nights out, queuing up on a busy evening with good conversation and a bottle of wine waiting for a table, heart to hearts, grabbing a bowl of noodles before the best Elvis Costello concert ever. Lovers and others.

When the food came – I eyed the Thai Fried Noodles like an old friend. Had it really been at least 2 years since we had last met? The prawns were luscious, the scallions crunchy, though the chilli oil not as hot as I remembered.

He dived into egg noodles slippery with sesame oil, vibrant Chinese greens and generous chunks of roasted duck. Between groans he kept asking “Why haven’t you bought me here before!”, “It’s the best restaurant in Melbourne”.

Sure it was the beer talking but the noodles really are worth the walk up the hill. For me, it was reassuring to run into an old friend and marvel at how they haven’t changed, just got better with age.