I Ate A Harry Pie And I Liked It

This past Sunday I had another food first in Australia: I ate a pie. And not just any pie, but a Harry’s pie. Australians, by the way, are obsessed with pies, and probably not the type of pie that comes to your American mind. In the U.S. a pie equals a pizza pie or a dessert that comes in many flavors and variations (my personal favorite is apple pie). But in Aussie land the most common and popular pie filling is MEAT. And Harry’s Café de Wheels has the most famous, meatiest pies in all of Sydney, maybe even Australia. Harry’s is a moveable food van that is quintessential Sydney icon. My Lonely Planet guidebook insists that “You have not been to Australia until you’ve had a pie, and Harry’s serves up some of the best. For over 50 years cabbies, sailors and Saturday night party people have slurred orders over Harry’s famous counter.” Obviously this must-eat- at-place was on my must-do list, and to my delight I learned that the one and only Harry’s Café de Wheels was located just a few blocks away from my abode in Woolloomooloo Wharf. This was glorious news, given to me by my roommate Norman who is a frequent visitor to the café and a devoted fan of Harry’s hotdogs (of all things). Sunday afternoon he said he was going, and I immediately threw on my jacket and shoes to tag along.

Harry's Cafe de Wheels

Harry’s was a small box randomly located along the water’s edge and between a winding street. There was no inside, no place to sit and eat your pie. You simply walked up to the window and placed your order, just like at an ice cream shop. Deciding what to order was not easy. I am unfamiliar with the world of meat pies and had no clue what I liked and disliked. Underneath the Harry’s sign was the word “Tiger” printed boldly. Intrigued, I looked at the menu and saw that the Tiger was Harry’s signature dish, a “chunky lean beef pie served with mushy peas, mash and gravy.” Let me just stop here to say that Australians also love their mashed peas; they are one hot commodity. In the states, peas quite possibly could be the most disliked vegetable (or maybe that’s just my own personal experience). Peas are something newborn babies eat. Peas are what princesses sleep on in fairytales. Peas are not something people mash up and enjoy eating regularly.  Thus I was a little uncertain about the whole mashed-pea part of the Tiger, but Harry’s was famous not just for its pies but also its mashed peas (so the sign said), so I embraced the tiger mentality and decided to go for it.

The TIGER Pie

Harry’s did not disappoint. The Tiger was a big ‘ol monster of pie, potato and peas. It sort of looked like Oscar the Grouch coming out of his garbage can. Fortunately, it didn’t taste like garbage. It was enjoyable to eat. It was messy to eat. And it was fun trying to figure out how to even go about eating this massive heap of stuff. I can tell you that there is no right, polite or lady-like way to do it. Girls, avoid Harry’s on a first date if you are looking to impress the fellow. I was not. And so I dug in and did not come up to breath until I had devourered the tiger, peas and all. Do I think I will crave a Harry Tiger again? Probably not; I’m not a huge steak eater or craver. But my interest in pies has certainly been piqued, and I fully intend to return to Harry’s to try their other pies until I find my meaty pie flavor of choice. I’m already trying to decide which I should try next, the Curry Chicken Pie or the Chicken & Mushroom Pie? Or maybe I’ll opt for the Beef, Cheese & Bacon Pie. Decisions, decisions…

Wicked Witch of the Water

Yes, that is me. Tonight at work I a) went to pour tap water into a customer's glass and accidentally began to pour it into the candle on the table instead! Haha. I almost burst out laughing on the spot. The candle is tall and round and sort of resembles a glass, except that it is thick and made of marble. Ooops. Fortunately it wasn't a real candle inside (just a battery charged one) and I realized my mistake a few seconds after I began to pour, not once the candle was filled. Oh how silly.

And b) a customer actually called me the Wicked Witch of the West! The scene played out a little something like this:

The elevator doors open. Two older men (mid-50s) exit with a young Asian girl (<5 yrs old).

I greet them, as I greet all guests, "Hi! How are you going?"

They reply, seemingly immune to my charm, "Fine thank you. Do you have a table for 3 available?" 

"Unfortunately, right now we are full. It will probably be about a 20-30 minute wait until a table opens up."

 "Oooooh," they murmur. "Thirty minutes?" They look at the little girl. "That's her bed time." (Then why did you bring her out to eat dinner at 8:30 pm?) They appear to be in deep contemplation. "How about 15 minutes?" they suggest hopefully.

"Perhaps," I reply sweetly, "but I can't guarantee that a table will be ready then." 

 "Oh, alright. Well then we'll just go have a drink in the bar and wait," one of the men insists, satisfied. 

"I'm sorry sir, but there are no children allowed in the bar after 6:00 pm."  

 "Oh," they reply, the disappointment apparent in their tone and faces. "I guess we will have to pass then."

They make their way back towards the elevator. I walk with them and hold the elevator open as they get back on, apologizing for their misfortune at obtaining a table for dinner (using much nicer words of course). And as they enter the elevator, out of no where one of the men turns to me and says, "You have made this little girl cry!" Mind you, she appears as happy as can be, gaily twirling around singing to herself. "You are the Wicked Witch of the West!" he shouts. He then points at my feet, "Look at her shoes Abbey!" (Does the Wicked Witch of the West wear black heels? I dunno...) She doesn't look. She is too occupied singing her happy tunes. And then the elevator doors close, eliminating the evil wizard from my presence. 

I was in disbelief. I turned to my manager Maricia and relayed to her what had just happened and she cracked up laughing. Despite how amusing and ridiculous the encounter was, my feelings are slightly hurt. I'm not the Wicked Witch, I'm Glinda gosh darn!

Angels & Art

This past Wednesday (I'm way behind on blog posts, time to play catch-up) was another gloomy, overcast day in Sydney (we've had way too many lately) so I decided it would be a perfect afternoon to check out a museum. Two of my roommates, Norm and Erica, were both also looking for something to do and so they decided to accompany me to the Art Gallery of  New South Wales, which was having an "open" weekend as part of the Art and About festival taking place (Sydney has lots of festivals).

The Art Gallery of NSW

The art gallery was a typical art gallery. I walked around gazing at the artwork hanging on the walls, impressed by many and wondering how on earth many others were on display. You know which ones I'm talking about- the ones that you look at and think, "I could do that." The ones of a square, or splattered paint or a single line drawn across the page. Of course, my failure to "get it" is probably just a show of my art ignorance, so I tried to appreciate each piece of artwork. And I did.

In the afternoon there was a free dance performance held inside the gallery lobby. It was a modern dance piece that was an interpretation of an art collection about things that take flight. These are the blue photographs you see in the images below. The choreographer explained that the piece he created was inspired by the image of the angel in the top right corner. He chose two males to perform the piece because they are solid and strong, just as the angel in the photo is. It was cool to watch, but certainly different. The strength of the male dancers was impressive, but I can't say that I was a fan of the white paint. I felt it took away from the performance and distracted from watching the actual dance movements. Maybe that was just because I was wondering the whole time, "Is that hard to get off? I wonder if it itches? That must be slipper." These are questions I will never know the answer too.

Meet Some Of My Roommates (Past & Present)

Allow me to introduce you all to some of my past and present rommies. Aren't you excited? Now you get to put some faces to the names I have been throwing around in my stories and posts.

First we have, from left to right, Stefan (Ireland), Guido (Rome, Italy), Luca (Rome, Italy) and Max (Italy). Stephan left the house a few weeks ago to head back to Europe, which I was both happy and sad about. Happy because I took his bed in the third floor "domain" as Steph use to call it, but sad because I really liked this Irishman and was sorry to see him leave after only just getting to know him. Guido and Luca are both still in the house, and really great guys. They both work at restaurants; Guido as a waiter and Luca as a chef. They love riding their bikes and listening to techno music. (I feel like I'm writing their bio for a dating service like Match.com, haha). Max isn't actually a roommate. He's a friend of the Italian boys, but he's around the house enough that he might as well be a roommate.

Stefan, Guido, Luca and Max

Next we have Norman and myself. Norm is also an Irishman and my current roommate. I get to wake up to his smiling (or sleeping) face each morning. Lucky me! But in all sincerity I really am lucky to have him as my roommate. He is such a charismatic, caring, funny and respectful guy. Not to mention, he works during the day and I work during the evenings, so its practically as if I am living on my own. Not a bad deal. Not a bad deal at all. An ideal win-win situation.

Norman & I

Here we have Ben (France) and Nancy (Los Angeles, USA). Nancy just left yesterday to return to the good 'ol US of A, leaving me the only American left in the house. Ben is such a nice guy. He is attending school here in Sydney, and just finished a master's program in some sort of transportation management field. Basically, he wants to improve the transportation system in Sydney to be more like the ones in Europe. I wish him well on this endeavor!

Ben & Nancy

In addition to the departure of Steph and Nancy, four other persons have moved out of the house since I moved in: Etienne (Madrid, Spain), Ginny (Korea), Thomas (UK) and Julie (UK).  This means, of course, that a bunch of new international faces have moved into the house. The rookies are: (1) Dan (UK) and his girlfriend (2) whose name I shamefully cannot remember. They are a lovely couple. Dan is a manager as a bar down the road which I'm hoping will benefit my wallet. (3) Nico (Italy). Sadly, I don't know much about Nico except that he is Italian and likes to swim. We've only crossed paths when I was rushing out the door to work. I will make an effort to find out more about his dealio and report back. (4) Joe (UK). A nice, chill, laid-back guy who works some computer/tech gig. (5) Erica (Madrid, Spain). Erica is the newest member of the household. She is in Australia to attend school to improve her English. She has a full-time, "real" job back in Spain and they gave her 6 months off to come here. (6) Alberto (Rome, Italy). The house is infested with Italians! But that's fine by me. Alberto actually was in the house long before I was, but he returned to Rome and then returned to Australia again.

And there you have it! You are now up-to-date on who were/are my roommates. When I acquire pictures of the others, I'll be sure to share them with you too.

Sorry For The Delay

But please don't fray! I will be blogging more- I pinky promise. But for now, I apologize for the lack of blog posts. I have been working doubles (lunch AND dinner shifts) at the restaurant, and in the little free time I have trying to squeeze in social and tourist activities. Then there's the whole sleep thing...I get home from work in the late evenings and look from my computer to my bed and back to my computer and bed thinking, "Blog? Sleep? Blog? Sleep?" Evidently, I have been opting for sleep, since you haven't seen any blogs.But they are coming! So please don't give up on me and continue to check in for your daily dose of Sarah in Aussie Land! Ta!