The month of October is the Crave Sydney International Food Festival. I love food, so I am psyched about this. The festival includes what seems like a thousand food-related activities and deals, from lunch and brunch specials and community festivals to cooking workshops and art and food events. And to "get things underway with a sizzle", they started the festival yesterday with "Barbecue Madness!" where many barbecue events were hosted around town. There were two in particular I wanted to attend. Their advertisements were as follows:
The Wharf turns 10 in 2010
"The restaurants of the Woolloomooloo (yes, that is the actual name of the neighborhood. It's my favorite name of a place in Sydney thus far. Just try and say it. It's great) Finger Wharf (located directly down the street from me) pull out all the stops to celebrate barbecue madness- as well as the Wharf's 10th birthday. Stop by Valero's paella stand, Aki's for chicken tikka or seekh kebab, Otto (go Cuse!) for some extra special seafood offerings and much, much more. Spend the afternoon by the harbour with $10 cocktails, $10 wines and $10 barbecue food along with market stalls, jazz musicians and an art exhibition (sounds to me like a simply splendid time)."
True Australian
"Sample kangaroo (on my must-do-in-Australia list!), emu (wasn't on my list, but still willing to try it) and crocodile (I hate crocodiles. I don't want to eat one, but in the spirit of trying new things I am willing to) all expertly grilled by our chef while indulging in our arrange of more than 100 Australian beers."
And so I recruited Norman, my roommate, to accompany me to these hot-spots Saturday afternoon to experience some first-class barbecue madness. Well, we didn't quite experienced the madness I had envisioned, but we did find ourselves amidst the
wet-ness of a terrible rainstorm. Oh yes, mother nature decided it would be fun to turn BBQ madness into one mad weather mess, and she succeeded. We literally made it a block down the road when the ice cold drops of rain began to pelt us like bullets to the chest. Fortunately, I had worn my brand-spanking new rain jacket (courtesy of the clearance rack at Sears back home) so I was somewhat protected from the wrath of the rain, but poor Norman had on just a t-shirt. In a matter of minutes he was soaked to the bone. I gave him my flimsy umbrella, if you can even call it that. The "umbrella" I picked up at the dollar store more closely resembled a trash bag stretched over hangers, but I guess it spared him from some of the waterworks.
Regardless, we arrived to the Woolloomooloo Wharf soaked to find that the barbecue madness had been soaked too. The barbecue stalls were barren and lonely as the masses huddled under what nearby shelter they could find. Determined to get what we came for, we continued to battle through the rain to the BBQ tents. But once there, it became evident to both of us that there was just know way our barbecue dreams would become a reality on this rainy afternoon. The weather was just too much, even for our determined, hungry souls to endure. Feeling defeated and disappointed we retreated to a nearby Italian restaurant to warm-up and fill our bellies. Although it wasn't kangaroo barbecue, we did enjoy a lovely lunch together. It was quality roommate-bonding time, and for that I am willing to forgive mother nature.
