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Outside the box

Don't forget to pack me!

People who have near-death experiences often remark that their whole life flashed before their eyes.

It’s a bit like that when you move house and have to confront all the impedimenta you’ve gathered in recent decades. Unfortunately I have had to face up to all my “stuff” five times in the past 10 years and it doesn’t get any easier in spite of a massive clearance programme on each occasion. I find things stowed at the back of shelves I thought had long since gone to the tip. I discard ruthlessly as I pack and I’m still left with an oversupply to cull further when I unpack.

This time round the Vinnies scored about 15 cartons of unwanted kitchenware, crockery, bedding, towels, ornaments, glassware – you name it. Masses more we hurled into the chasm at the rubbish station.

The lineup of boxes that enhanced the rear of the garage in our last place yielded more tip fodder. We’d got by without some of it for four years since shifting to Australia and hadn’t really missed any of it.

It’s the second big clear-out I’ve had to do in the past three months. My sister and I faced a similarly daunting challenge at our late mother’s place at Easter.

If I never see a packing carton again, it will be too soon.

However, now, after four years of the gipsy existence of leasing a property, we are back living in a home we own – in partnership with the bank, of course. We’ve made what we hope will be our last move.

And now back to breaking in a brand new kitchen, learning the ways of a shiny new oven and finding out if I was perhaps just a little ruthless in my cull of the kitchen gadgets…

The Hole in the Wall

Melbourne suburbs hide some quaint little meeting spots and the Cricketers’ Arms in Port Melbourne’s Cruikshank Street is certainly one of them. The taxi driver didn’t know where it was. The Spouse offered to direct him but wasn’t much help either, thanks to a couple of one-way streets. However, a nice clear sign suddenly appeared in the headlights, pointing the way.

The place was fairly buzzing when we arrived to meet a friend around 6pm on Saturday night. It’s one of those places where you half expect to get a few meaningful looks if you dare take up a regular patron’s particular possie. However, one cheery drinker pointed out a free table.

We’ve been there before with friends and found it a convivial place. On Saturday a welcoming log fire was burning at one end of the bar and attention seemed to be focused on the racing channel. Just as quickly as the horses ran away with people’s money, many of the drinkers moved out to another area to eat.

The pub is known as “The Hole in the Wall”, a name that dates back to the suburb’s true port days when imbibing sailors would escape through a hole in the back wall to avoid MPs or the local constabulary when they raided the place.

These days, in addition to the public bar, the pub sports an attractive dining room with a couple of gas fireplaces, a lounge-like back bar with more dining tables, and a beer garden. I'm told this is also a great place for lunch.

The lounge dining was fully booked but we secured seats in the dining room and browsed the menu.

The menu cover - but they don't look like cricketers to me.

There are no pretensions about it but it’s well thought-out pub food. There are starters ranging from oysters through dips, antipasto plate, calamari, mussels, prawns, melts. There were also bowls of chips and assorted breads.

I managed to bag the last half dozen oysters in the house ($12) - yes, soldiering on in spite of last Monday's gluttonous oyster frenzy... The Spouse had the calamari ($16) and our friend dived into a succulent bowl of mussels ($16) and a chunk of bread. I often wonder how many sacks of salt are sacrificed daily to hold oysters in the shell.

When it came to a main course,we women couldn’t go past the pizzas and opted for the prawn option – a nice crisp base with garlic, a touch of chilli, red onion, tomato and cheese. And very modestly priced at $13. There were six other pizza options available. We all passed on the half dozen pasta/risotto options and The Spouse chose a steak and mushroom shepherd’s pie which came with salad and bread - $17.

Other mains included chicken Parmigiana, BLT, steak sandwich, burgers (rockling or chicken), fish and chips, porterhouse steak, eye fillet, chicken breast and kangaroo salad – several under $20 and the most expensive (the fillet) $32. All came with real sides includuded. There were also some individual salads on offer - Greek, Caesar, that sort of thing.

Fortunately there was still space left for my nicely boozy tiramisu and their warm apple crumbles ($12).

Unpretentious but all nicely presented. Our fellow diners included kids and parents but there was something for everyone on the menu and we certainly didn’t have any leftovers.

A nightcap at the bar while we watched his Richmond Tigers actually win a game for a change and we were well fortified for a leisurely stroll home through the crisp calm night. Curiously, the journey home was quite a bit shorter than the journey there. Funny, that…

Click on menu pages to enlarge

Oyster Frenzy

There was a feeding frenzy in Melbourne last night. Around 150 of us packed into the bar at Botanical on Domain Road, grabbed our little cardboard containers and wooden mini forks and gleefully accepted the challenge – all the oysters we could eat in three hours.

For the first 30 minutes at least, there was no letting up in the pace as we queued for another half dozen of the briny beauties. Rock oysters, Pacific oysters, native oysters, wild oysters.


While oysters slide down pretty easily, there was champagne, white wine, beer or vodka cocktails to help them along.

I’m not sure how many oysters were consumed, but going on previous years, it was probably around 7000. And there were a dozen different kinds on offer, among them Barilla Bay, Coffin Bay, Pittwater, St Helen's.

I’ve become a big fan of Australian oysters since shifting to Melbourne. I was brought up on Bluff oysters in New Zealand, with the occasional Pacific oyster thrown in. Now, alas, Bluff oysters are around $NZ25 a dozen, but when I began my newspaper career they were fairly cheap.

In those days we junior reporters were often assigned to cover events on the cocktail circuit – national days and so on. One of the best bits of advice I ever got from my old chief reporter was to locate the oyster bowl and stand nearby for the speeches and toasts. Once the formalities were over and it was polite to start eating, I would be well positioned to attack. As I said “oyster bowl” – generally a large silver container full of luscious fat freshly shucked Bluff oysters was the centrepiece at many functions in those days.

But back to the Botanical’s $75 a head Oyster Frenzy. There were definitely some dedicated oyster fans out to get value for money. One man I spoke to was eating his 83rd oyster. He probably got to 100 before the night was out.


There was mignonette sauce, Tabasco and lemon slices on hand and it was interesting to try two or three different oyster varieties and compare their characteristics. Some were very salty, others had mineral overtones, others a sweet finish. And I did get one cooked oyster along the way – a succulent spinach and cheese concoction.

New Zealand’s Catalina Sounds sauvignon blanc and their Crowded House pinot gris were excellent wine matches for what Botanical describes as “our most debaucherous event”. Watch out for the next one…