After a long arduos Friday at the office, where I worked through the creepy empty hours after 5pm to kill some time, I traversed Melbourne's darkening streets to meet up with the lovely W & R for a bit of culinary respite before heading off to The Palace for the cosmic rock jives of the "best thing out of the UK since Radiohead" (not my words): The Klaxons!
D was also attending with his friend E and they had arranged to meet up at Meyers Place for dinner. We decided to scope the place out and see if we could get a look in. Its one of those hidden Melbourne gems that only people in the know ... well ... know! Although this one has been around for donkey's years ... it was quite literally a club for Italian waiters ... established in 1947 ... it soon became the local haunt for spanish and italian waiters to unwind, play cards, drink vino and carouse after slaving in the city's culinary establishments. It has been owned by the one family (since the late 70s) ... the wonderfully named Sabbadinis ... in fact, Denis Sabbadini still runs the joint (incidentally Denis taught my colleague Chemistry in an earlier incarnation).
Anyways, The Waiters Restaurant is on top of the Meyers Place bar, up a dingy set of stairs reminiscent of the Supp Inn. Its the cheap and cheerful stopover for the alleway drinking set. The food is nothing fancy, and its not really a venue for lounging and chewing the fat. You order, you eat, you leave!! Its the simplest of transactions.
The food is not blow your mind fantastic ... but its tasty nonetheless and does help to line the stomach before a night on some serious turps.
I had a whole lemon sole on a bed of wilted lettuce served with a bowl of steamed veg. This is my kind of fish dish ... but it could have been a tad moister and was crying for some kind of creamy tangy sauce for dipping.
W, who turns out is one of those "on the side" girls had the spagehtti meat balls and R opted for a parmagiana. Wine is served in water glasses ... which given the smoke stained interiors was suitably quaint. Its more about the convo here than the ambience.
After satisfying hunger and slaking thirst, we crossed the street for a night of hardcore dancing and air punching, stage rushing hi jinx with the amazing Klaxons.
After the moderate success of their difficult sophomore album, we knew the crowd would go off at the favourites ... and they did!! And we were right there with them. You can take your "little old man" and stick it my friends, with a live act this good who cares if I could have fathered 98% of the crowd, I'm hoisting up the high pants and metal-signing the stage!! Rawk On Motherfuckers!!
PS ... D's new house is fantastic!
PPS ... I'm glad that I refused that last beer or I couldn't have driven anywhere
PPPS ... I'm glad we took a taxi to the car
PPPPS ... D! Smoking? At a venue? Hhmmmm!!
PPPPPS ... Pink Rosette Earrings ... explain
PPPPPPS ... my whitey friends asked for extra chilli ... bless!!
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