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!)...
Happy Australia Day slash home coming Haynes!
- KW
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
Welcome to blogland KW!!!! Awesome post. Looking forward to catching up with your crayzay kids sooooon!! XXX
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