September 26, 2006
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Bring your own media

I just got back from a lovely fried trout in red curry, eaten at another communal table. This one was at Sailor Thai Canteen. The guy across from me turned out to be a physician from Brown University, which is essentially down the road from home. The nice lady on my left had a daughter at Harvard. It's a small world, but the trout was big and crispy and that curry was extraordinary.

Last night at the Sydney Opera House, waiting Shiraz in hand to see I Am My Own Wife, I shared a table with two delightful Sidneyside theatre fans. One was about to head to the US; she'd planned to go leaf-peeping in Vermont but was frightened by the prospect of her husband's driving on the wrong side of the road. She's doing Connecticut with friends instead, which will be fine, but Vermont is better.

There was an old rule that a roof, or a hull, was an introduction. One meets people on trips, but how often does one keep the resolution to follow through later? Maybe this time.

After dinner, it was another long walk home. Too long, so I stopped into the Art House Hotel. (In Australia, a hotel is always a bar and only sometimes a hotel; this one used to be an art school). The original plan was to go there for dinner -- they have a four-course cocktail degustation menu on Tuesdays, but it was booked up.

Jade of the South served with hand made scallop ravioli and citrus beurre blanc

On Mondays, they have figure drawing and discounted cocktails for the artists: this could be either a very good or a very bad idea. The notice actually says, "bring your own media". I had a nice glass of Australian verdehlo (!) and was not quite the only person of the male persuasion in the room.