Dinner Club - The RESTRICTED Version

I must have actually done alright with my first DC (note the new abbreviation!) blog because here I am being allowed back for a second round!  (Or the mayor is just lazy…)  Either way here I am typing away on the notebook again, so please go and amuse yourself elsewhere if you didn't like January's edition - KW is all over it again!

If there were a physical paper list of this dinner club it would have had one of those big red RESTRICTED ACCESS stamps plonked down on it because unfortunately, for the first time in DC history (I think), the numbers had to be capped.  This meant a rather exclusive nature to the invites.

After the January event went off without a hitch (serious injuries have been patched up after the incident-riddled beach cricket match) I was charged with organising instalment #2 in 2012.  I didn't exactly need to be pushed into this, and I decided that we were going back to Western Europe for a long overdue Spanish feast to see out summer (and well done Melbourne for rolling with me and putting on a sweltering 30-something degree day).  But unfortunately due to the small and intimate nature of such restaurants, which means pre-bookings and cancellation fees, large numbers were never going to be feasible.  Therefore I made the executive decision to cap numbers at 10, inviting only the dedicated souls who ventured to Edithvale for the January chapter on a first-in-best-dressed nature (sorry if you are reading this as a previous DCer and didn't score an invite, don't hold it against me!)

Having said this, upon reading the guest list below, you will notice a #11 'intruder' - although technically I suppose he could argue he was present at the beach that night anyway:

1. T Hillyer

2. R King

3. L Read

4. K Wilson

5. S Haughey

6. V Dennis

7. J Coleman

8. E Haynes

9. K Williams

10. M Read

11. H King

Anyway… Ole!  We were off to Portello Rosso in the heart of the CBD to sample some food from the country that gave us matadors, Salvador Dali, crazy festivals, Rafa, and stupidly catchy music on tourist buses (in-joke).

We walked into a beautiful space and were seated on a high table right in front of the bar/kitchen area, meaning we could see each course (and there were many as Portello is a tapas/jamon bar) being plated up before it was brought out to us.  After initial ordering of sangrias (and ginger beers for non-drinkers/mums/Feb Fasters) we we treated to some amazing dishes including tortillas with shaved manchego, beef and blue cheese croquettas, pork, mint and rice meatballs in an amazing sauce, crispy skinned pork belly, grilled king prawns, patatas bravas and last but not least - CHURROS CON CHOCOLATE!  Share plates are always fun as everyone can pass their judgement on the same thing, not to mention the situation of the 5 minute stare at the final item on the plate before the awkward 'does anyone want the last one?' query (Which is shit really - you can't say yes can you, clearly they want it if they have to ask?!  People need to learn to use the "look, there's a distraction" line...)

We loved Portello's staff who did a great job despite our best attempts to throw them off with food allergies, plate smashing and a bit of general rowdiness - they were fantastic (and that made their photo-bombing behind the bar ok).

With Baby King making his DC debut at only 2 weeks old - stunning commitment really, and quite ironic given he was announced to the world at the same event 6 months prior! - this made for loads of fun an many an inappropriate baby poo/fart/boob joke.  While was passed around the table more than the olive oil, he didn't seem to mind too much and was on his best behaviour for 99% of the night.  However it soon became clear that he was, as E Haynes observed, certainly R King's son.  At no time more than when passed on to V Dennis, who had a stunning maxi dress on that shall we say, allowed a fairly decent V-cut.  Harrison clearly being hungry… well… let's just cut to the chase - went for more than a couple of boob grabs!

Thanks for a great night everyone - and thanks to the mayor for allowing me to share a couple of my favourite cuisines with the crew.  I am now officially handballing DC months March and April over to V Dennis (as Shelley said, in true V Dennis style, probably do not expect invite until day prior to event) - who knows where we will end up??  Shit's about to get interesting!!

KW out xx

Dinner Club January 2012 - The 'Just When You Thought It Was Over' Version

Ok so first of all I have to say this is a bit weird.  And daunting.  I am not the mayor of dinner club, and here I am writing the first blog of the institution that is carrying onto into 2012… big shoes to fill!  Organising the thing was easy, this part not so much.  I am feeling the pressure, especially since said-mayor actually recently upgraded her status to actual author anyway!  I will try and do her proud...
As those of you that know Eloise well would be aware, she last year embarked on a new year 'goal' (read: resolution that she did not want to name 'resolution') that on the last Friday of each month she would bring together friends and friends of friends to share a meal.  There were several points to this:

1. To catch up with people who aren't seen often enough

2. To bring people who didn't know each other

3. To tick different cuisines and restaurants off a long imaginary list (and introduce previously tried cuisines/restaurants to others)

4. Enjoy the magic that is good food and wine/beer/cider/tequila/soju/etc.

This idea was such a raging success, that at the supposed Final Chapter in 2011, it was decided that the practice should continue into the new year and beyond.  Only problem was that Haynes herself was up and leaving the country the very next week (shock, horror) and would not be back in the country until the day before the dinner must take place.  This clearly didn't leave enough time to organise the event… poor form really, choosing to gallivant about about the Caribbean and Central America over such priorities.  Tsk…

Anyway, long story short, I stepped in with all my humility and grace, putting aside a few precious hours of my own sun baking and magazine reading over the summer to come up with the most ingenious idea yet - welcome home fish and chips on the beach - i.e.. 'Australian Dinner Club'.

Yep I totally admit it, no imagination whatsoever.

But I didn't regret it one bit once I got to Edithvale on the 29 degree evening, spread out 10 beach towels and waited for the cavalry to arrive.  One by one they filtered in so that finally, by the major's eventual arrival, everyone was present with their order and ready to eat.

** At this point I should mention the dinner menu and location was supposed to be a surprise, although unfortunately being the clever smart-arse that she is, she figured it out.  I guess when you're told the dress code is thongs it's probably not too hard… thanks muchly anyway to S. Haughey for helping me out in trying to keep this and transporting mayor and weary sidekick traveller V. Dennis down.

What followed as we chowed down on flake, dim sims and crab sticks was travel stories, Australia Day BBQ recaps (details of R. King, B. Goodall and M. Read's acts of disgrace the day prior will NOT be recounted in this blog for fear of small children having access to it) and general laughs and good times.  It was actually in the hours after the meal that a new dimension of dinner club came alive (although special mention to T Hillyer for smashing something with tomato sauce on it into the side of her fiancé's shaven head for reasons I cannot remember, classic humour).

After the initial stages of the usual food coma had surpassed (this time was filled with dinner clubbers strategising which beach box we were going to buy) the males of dinner club began to assemble the beach cricket pitch.  By the way I cannot take the credit for this - well done M. Read for making this night even more Aussie by supplying the cricket set.  What ensued was a manic series of events that I can't even begin to put into story writing and I think would be best dot pointed:

- R. King's awful bowling and fielding form, proving he has clearly not yet made the transition from English to Australian and would definitely see him gain a berth in the Lion's Ashes side next year.

- M. Read's disgusting pitch doctoring that could definitely see him gain a berth in the Indian side any time.

- K. Wilson being an absolute trooper by offering to perform runner duties for the pregnant and injured alike.

- The Play of the Day which saw K. Wilson hitting her own wicket (to non-cricket followers - she was therefore OUT and should have been trudging back to the pavilion), proceeding to run anyway, R. King dropping a nil-relevant catch and K. Wilson subsequently performing the most awkward of all face-first dives to eat a lot of sand and heroicly save herself from being run out… oh wait…

- The Play of the Century involving mid-on fieldsman V. Dennis visually and verbally taunting batsman E. Haynes as she went in for the easy run-out, only to slip, bang front-on into the batsman and in the end, completely miss the wicket.  An injury time-out followed… to ensure people's diaphragms had covered from the 10+ minutes of laughing.

- Excellent commentary from the galleries throughout including such gems as "It's all happening", "Champagne cricket" and the Benaud special "He's fucked it."

After this had gone on for some time, the female dinner club delegates decided it was time for recovery practices to kick in, retreating to the water for a post-match brief while the boys played on by moonlight.  As lovely as this conversation was, it would unfortunately be interrupted by a pinching pain felt just below my left ankle.  Not long after there was a quick retreat from the water as V. Dennis exclaimed "Look how big these crabs are!"

And this is pretty much where the night ended.  All parties packed up in the dark and moved on, seemingly satisfied with a night of good food, fun and games.  Probably the most casual dinner club yet but it seemed to go down well!

(Photos added by the mayor herself!)...

The January 2012 dinner clubbers post dinner and cricket.

If this is what I return home to every time, I'll be a very happy woman.

Happy Australia Day slash home coming Haynes!

- KW