Portliness

My recent Melbourne visit (and related food extravaganza) has left me a little portly. My mum has described me as being a little bit more 'juicy'.

You know that stereotypical scenario: Girl goes shopping, drags boyfriend along to carry shopping, boyfriend is in catatonic state as girlfriend tries on endless item of clothing after another, prances out of change room and asks: "Do I look fat in this?"

Apparently the bit that we *don't* hear after the "Yes", and then slapping said-boyfriend is....

"Wow, you look fantastic, Yes please buy it, *drool*, in fact let me buy that for you, even better - here, use my credit card..."

Eating Well, in contradiction

Flying 800kmSydney-Melbourne to do "the slow food thing" seems a bit of an enormous contrdiction.

I had a fantastic time, with three going-out-meals in three days. Sitting for 3 hours on a plane (and filling in the other hours with shopping) don't seem to have balanced out the amount of eating that I achieved. I have most decidedly put on weight, and he had to yield an extra hole on his belt!

Saturday night: "A taste of slow" dinner at Tjanabi restaurant in Federation Square*.
Sunday night was yummo vegetarian banquet at the Morroccan Soup Bar. (Shares joint 'fave melbourne places' with the Vegie Bar in Fitzroy)
Monday lunch was risotto at Piadina Slow Food in Punch Lane. (In retrospect, I should have gone for the Japanese mushroom, green pea lentil curry)
Finally, a double pot of rainbow chai at Well-Connected cafe to settle the stomach on Monday night.

*slow food incorporating food/fish/microherbs flown in from NT, and cooked by two chefs from restaurants in Alice Springs seems to contradict the *other* slow food tennant, that of sourcing food locally.