They’ve depth chargers on the menu, fishwives’ garden & battle of Cadiz stuff. One of Hobart’s oldest restaurant institutions – The Drunken Admiral.
There he is again. Our old friend Winston, though this time not at the Astor Hotel, but up in North Hobart at big old pub called The Winston.
As we stepped into the 1920’s Art Deco ambience of the Astor Grill, one could almost picture Winston and Nancy swapping insults and port in a dark corner.
“My sister?” says Hyacinth Bucket, “She’s the one with the Mercedes, swimming pool and room for a pony…” Did you know that’s the name’s genesis?
Brioche is now almost ubiquitous, having forced its French way into our kitchens with its sweet, soft, spongy deliciousness.
Pub Food? That’s come a long way, baby. No longer the poor cousin of cafés and restaurants, pubs have had to up their game.
What kind of restaurant takes guests out to the garden and into the kitchens? Saffire at Coles Bay. Home of food industry shooting star Nikki Hiscock.
Take a normal pasta class, throw in a big character, a handful of comedy, some sensational singing, and what have you got? Mamma Rosa’s MastaPasta Class.
This new bar on the block hums to its own tune, and that’s a good thing. The food is outstanding. The wine? Well that’s another story.
“Why don’t we do Julie and Julia, but with Heston?” I asked. Not long after, we were planning a dinner party starring two of Heston’s ‘home cooking’ dishes.