Well, I’ve lived in Yamba now for nearly two months. I think it may be proving to be one of the best decisions I’ve made in my ageing years. And I’m gradually getting my little home in order. A few essentials, don’t you know. Powerful shower, yeah!
Sun lounger … for very short sunbathes on my terrasse … it’s helluva hot here!
Hand vacuum for the clean-ups.
All sorts of delicious kitchenny things …
Yes, here, I’ve actually started cooking, after a 40 year gap. Gently. I’ve got a lot of (re)learning to do. But omigosh, fresh produce from the Wednesday (early) morning market … this week there was a chap selling cold, sliced, peppered brisket. I ventured 200g. Come back! I want a kilo …
But you can’t cook at home, alone, every day and night, so I make frequent trips to the lunchtime Beachwood Café and the eventide Fusion on the Hill … yes, I’ve done pretty much all the eligible eateries in our town/village, and those are my frequently repeated favourites.
But sometimes an old boy needs a change. And when nephew Harry arrived in town with wheels … well, last time we ventured out to the very nice ‘Boardroom and Bar’, but somehow (in spite of many family plannings) we never got to the one reputed restaurant on the other side of town. Angourie.
So tonight, we did. It’s called Barbaresco. I’m not quite sure why. The sign said Bar Baresco. And I HAD been there before! On my very first visit to Yamba, I had sheltered under the awnings of the then nascent resto, from one of our local storms! Sheltered? Blimming heck, I wish I’d gone inside!
Well, thanks to Harry-with-the-wheels, I got there tonight.
I had a delightful meal, in charming surroundings. When I came in, I thought ‘oh!’. Two kiddies to the left of me, a baby at my back … whaaaat! Not my scene at all. But they were dollies, and everyone was enjoying their food. So ….
Finally, I get to the meal. Well, Harry has this idea that I’m an occasional dipso, so – since he was doing the driving -- I thought I had better have one of the cocktails he recommended, to set things rolling. Blood Orange Margarita.
Delicious! A little more ‘bite’, maybe? But hey, I ordered a second!
The food? The menu is attractively small. But one dish popped out from the wee entrée list: beef carpaccio. Well, I thought I knew what I was going to get, but nooooo! No hashed up mince. This was an absolutely (for me) different dish. And hellishly tasty …
Harry (who can’t do gluten) had a quail dish which looked marvellous … next time (oh, and the next time there are wheels, here I come!) I’ll try that.
Main course. A lamb rag(o)ut. No, not a plate of stewed meat (which I would, anyway, have loved) but a delicious combination … of… of … I was so IN to my dinner by then, I not only forgot to foto-my-food … maybe it was the second deceptively smooth blood orange margarita … but … I simply remember, the day after, was that it was bloody special-super!
I went on line to try to find the menu, but all I found was a really boring menu from a homonym restaurant in New York.
Barbaresco. I see it is genuinely Italian-connected. Chef: Davide Adorno. But his food didn’t have the glaring faults of so much hometown Italian cooking. Oh my heaven, will I ever forget that tomato paste swimming in oil that was forced on me in Verona and San Remo! No, this is just delicious, imaginative, whiff-of-the-Italian, food. And the key word there is ‘Delicious’. With a big D … my, oh yes …
Hey, you all, I’m coming thoroughly back!