Fine Dining

Life With Kermie

6 Jul

Life with Kermie

Rita and I have a dear friend who flies into Melbourne on business around this time each year. And every year he rings and invites us out to dinner. Having a better expense account than me (what's an expense account?) he gets to stay in a very posh Collins Street hotel.

"Where would you like to go? We can go back to that nice little Italian restaurant in Lygon Street or you could have dinner, here at the hotel."

This was a no-brainer. We love Cafe Coretto in Carlton, where we eat every time we go to Melbourne. The opportunity however, to dine at one of the plushest hotels in the city was too good to pass up.

Now those of you that know me are aware that I'm a tad overweight – like by about 20 kg. A while back I decided to do something about it, so every day I live on a diet of Corn Thins, topped with Coles Sweet Thai Chile Tuna and tomato.

With pictures in my mind of oysters presented in 15 different ways, followed by lobster Thermidor or eye fillet and mouth-watering desserts from the trolley, I set my mind to starvation for the three days prior to this gastronomic event.

The evening finally arrived. With my stomach growling and knees weak from hunger, our host welcomed us at the bar. Breaking the cardinal rule of dieting I ordered a beer, figuring that the hops, wheat and barley would sustain me better than a Scotch, until we got to our table. At last we sat down and our waiter – with what Rita tells me was a French accent – placed our napkins on our laps and asked what type of water we would like? With the dumb look my face obviously displayed, he instantly decided that I was a Bogan and imperiously explained, "Sir may have tap water, soda water, still mineral water or effervescent mineral water."

"Ah... I'll have a Scotch, thanks."

With drinks on the way we opened up the menu and my eyes began to water, not because of what was on offer, but because of the prices. Whoever wrote up the menu needed a proof reader – $85 for a steak couldn't be right! I looked at our host and guiltily asked if it would be okay to have an entree. "Have what you like mate", he replied - as he used his phone to check his bank balance.

The others both ordered lamb cutlets at $45. That was just for the (two) small cutlets – peas, chips, anything to go with them was eight bucks a serve. They agreed to share chips and Asian greens (which turned out to be three leaves of bok choy). I went for the scallops as an entree at $18 and the prawn, crab and lobster risotto for the main at $35.

An 18 inch long plate arrived with my entree. Placed in the middle were three very lonely and very bland scallops. Thank God I'd ordered a nice, filling risotto.

The mains arrived with Rita's 'well done' lamb cutlets still chasing each other around the plate and minus the gravy she had ordered. The waiter apologised and said he would instruct the kitchen to prepare it. They must have been low on Gravox because it was a no-show.

My risotto arrived in the biggest bowl you ever did see. Prawns must have been on special because this time I had four. Of the crab and lobster, there was no sign but at least the bowl was filled to the brim with rice. With hunger pangs ripping through my body I grabbed my spoon and shoved it into the bowl – except it wasn't a bowl! It was a plate and the rice was spread across it one grain deep! It took a while for this to sink in as I kept trying to shove my spoon through the bottom of the plate, much to my dinner companion's amusement.

We finished with lukewarm cappuccinos and bade farewell to our host with thanks. If we'd had to pay I would have been well cheesed. I reckon I got more calories out of the smoke I had afterwards. The absurdity of this so-called fine dining experience had us laughing all the way home. We even fought off the temptation to stop at Hungry Jack's. If I could afford to keep going back there I could lose that 20 kg in a fortnight. Then again, the cost of that one meal could have put me on Jenny Craig for two months.

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