On Saturday I had a lovely brunch with some of my girlies in a French cafe in Darlinghurst on Victoria St called Sel et Poivre. It was very nice. The food was yummy and affordable, it had outdoor cushioned booths and sweet little blue checkered chairs and round tables a la Paris, and best of all… drumroll please people… the coffee and hot chocolate came in bowls!!! How novel!
Bowl modelling by Heather and Tilda… they are even colour coordinated! How cute! Hand modelling by moi.
It was very tasty and yum. But having coffee in a bowl presented a problem that most people would not have thought about. Bowls are very easy to drop things into by accident. And it is harder to retrieve these small things that you may drop into your chocolat chaud than if you dropped something into a regular coffee cup.
One moment, Ani’s lighter was delicately perched between her fingers as she prepared to light a cigarette. The next moment, it was in her coffee. This could happen to you. Beware of the dangers of beverages in bowls.
But lighter incident aside, it was a lovely, affordable brunch. And Sydney put on quite a show for us. The weather was warm and lovely. The cafe was located across the road from a faceless apartment block that had no shortage of colourful characters coming and going (including a woman solely wearing a bra and a miniskirt… she got halfway down the road and graphically made out with her also shirtless boyfriend and then fought with him before noticing her top was in her hand rather than covering her lingerie)… and then a odd fellow in a suit started to have some sort of fight with a friend in a dramatic manner than had us whispering to each other "is this street theatre? Somebody help, I think it’s street theatre!"… oh those creative types!
There were also a few characters at the cafe itself. A lady at the table in front of us had a poodle that was sitting on her lap and eating off her plate. How European bougeoise! It even had a diamante collar and lead. Our lovely smiley waitress had a beautiful French accent and a chic scarf tied around her neck but provided friendly, rather than Parisian, service.
We talked Workchoices, work choices, boys, mags, newspapers, travels and how we would manage all of these things with children in tow by becoming some sort of hippy urban family where everyone is everyone else’s aunty. Solid plans.
All in all, c’est fantastique. Apologies for my la-di-lame French.