fate drove us to odyssey. oysters, lamb, and barramundi kept us there. fate in the form of horizontal rain, a miserable evening in sydney, australia. i've been to the rocks before, had a $40 piece of fish (that was a little expensive) and an $18 gin and tonic. i know how things go at the rocks. but i've never had anything like odyssey's wine tasting and food. did i mention the high-tech wine tasting dispenser, the smart cards, stainless steel tubes with flashing lights? there's even a glass of 1996 grange for $180 if you care to find out what all the hubbub is about. wow!

don't exactly know the address. i'm, sure you'll find the place. having watched the first of californication, this is how you start a review. hey, viet star, sweet. have you seen californication? i strongly recommend it. i mean, i'm not tv fan or anything...i'm off track, yes? let's talk about the restaurant then, shall we?

it's so good! it's so bad! ok, what the fuck is going on at vanilla? if there was a prize for inconsistency vanilla would be accepting the same gold award every week.

some days we go there for brekkie and it's just perfect - good eggs, good service, nice people, good coffee. honestly, is there anything more you could want in life. well, perhaps a good cup of coffee isn't the be-all-end-all of life but it does go a long way towards perfection on a crappy monday morning where you'd rather be still in bed than preparing to front up to the steaming pile of incompetence that is your boss. but i digress. other days we go and it's hard to get noticed. we brought flags, air horns, even flare guns. but no. 'oh, did you want to order something?'. 'no love, we came for the view...'.

always interesting when you find out how someone really feels. helps put things in perspective. she's not stupid. but naive? definitely. desperate? i'd say so. fuck you ec.

i never would have thought that a pub on the corner of flinders and swanston street would serve edible food. i mean, they're next to mcdonalds and hungry jacks. you can meet the weirdo of your dreams. did i mention the picture of the naked chick upstairs? there's a picture of a naked chick upstairs. there, i mentioned it. the naked chick is quite famous - but for some reason she has no body hair. who would have though that the brazilian was available in the 19th century.

i don't want to have a go at zia's but i just can't help it. it's a family run restaurant so you can't expect it to be too classy. and it's just not. god help me i don't know what i expected it to be. you know when something happens and you just look around in disbelief, just to see if you're in noddyland. want an example? i ordered wine and they just put it on the table - not open, just a bottle on the table. so i tried it myself, assured myself that it was ok, and poured myself a glass. noddyland.

i am a big fan of a good steak. just check out the squire's loft and the grill room reviews. it's not that i'm a big meat eater at all - i generally choose the vegetation option and don't really cook meat at home - but fuck, the point is another step up in the steak stakes. they have their own meat supply (i think they have their own farm) so their beef is probably some of the best available.

ringwood is not the place i think of first when someone says 'let's do japanese'. in fact it's not even second. i know! hard to believe. it's way down the list. way down. just how far? far. but suishaya does have quite a lot going for it and it has such a cure little waterwheel (that's what suishaya means) in a pond just inside the door. ahem, fucking nice pond, i mean.

you just know a place called madam something or other is going to be different from your average pick-up melbourne bar (for that, think pony or long room, yikes). and the history of madam brussels is interesting to say the least. but the first thing you notice is that it has grass indoors and many people seem to be reclining on garden furniture - again, indoors. if you do go to madam's place already pissed it's a bit disconcerting to walk along the indoor garden path and step onto the lawn. as if handling the drink is not fucking hard enough. if you do go in a sober state the difference can at least get the jaded bar-goer's attention.

here's a thought. if you pay waiters and staff well, you get good food and good service and good waiters will want to join your restaurant. so you get good staff and waiters, and so on and so forth. it's not rocket surgery. it's quite obvious that the manager of movida has worked out this tricky and complex equation. the result? what seems like almost instant success. the kitchen staff are relaxed and professional, the bar staff are efficient and snappy, and the floor staff attentive and friendly. even for a brand new joint, movida feels like everyone working there are part of a well-worn family.