Restaurants

Throwing Away all the Rules in Sydney

6 Comments

I spend most days doing my best to resist all those foods that I know are bad for my blood sugar levels. Like the goodies my work Mums pull out of their pockets without fail. Like the birthday morning teas at work where pink donuts are mandatory. Like the packet of Tim Tams or slice of leftover cake with my cuppa in the afternoon. And then having to fight the urge to open a packet of chips afterwards for my something savoury.

Over time, I’ve gotten better at it, and I am more resilient. I’m proud to say that I no longer need to have that afternoon snack that’s been a part of my daily routine for my whole life. I still do allow myself these things on occasions, and Friday is still my I-can’t-be-bothered-I’ll-buy-my-lunch-at-work kind of a day. But it’s a hard job. So when I go on holidays, I tend to throw away all the rules.

I don’t go on holidays too often, and it will probably be a long time until I go back to Sydney again. And so, I get that feeling of needing to stock up. Moreso when you come from a tiny city like Perth. Of needing to get my fill, while I can. Before it all goes away again. And boy oh boy, did I find some good spots.

Like a cake and cappuccino at the best Pasticceria in Sydney, Via Del Corso. I think I stopped by there almost every day. I’m not even ashamed to admit that I went there one afternoon after I’d already had a coffee and cannoli elsewhere. The Choc Panna Cotta, the Baked Ricotta Cheesecake, the Tiramisu or the Snickers, there was no shortage of choices there to aid my difficult decision making!

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Then there’s the best Cannoli in Sydney, at Rossini Cafe on the harbour. If it wasn’t such a trek to walk, you would have seen me there every day for sure. When I finished my climb of the Sydney Harbour Bridge in the dark last week, my blood sugar level had rebounded to a lovely 17 after my Hypo on the Harbour. It was dark and I was ridiculously high. But all I wanted to do was trek over to Rossini’s for one of their massive, freshly filled Cannoli served on a pile of thick, creamy custard. Public apology to my Mum, I had forgotten just how awesome these were since last time.

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Then there’s the Lindt Cafe. You know, the one in Martin Place that was the setting of the tragic Sydney Siege last year. Going by the crowds inside, it’s hard to believe that something so terrible could have happened here. The hot chocolate was SO worth the trek. Again, I came here one afternoon shortly after a coffee and cake at Via Del Corso. And I guess it serves me right that I went most of the trip not realising there was another Lindt Cafe closer to where I was staying!

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And finally, Darling Harbour. I think we ate here all but one night. The best thing here is the three-course-meal-and-a-glass-of-wine-for-$30 thing. Almost every restaurant here has some sort of tempting not-so-diabetes-friendly offer like it.

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The most suprising thing was how well my blood sugar levels managed all this food on the trip. Most days I went without breakfast or lunch simply because I was full from all the other crap I was eating. But I honestly don’t recall having half as many hypers or hypos as my last holiday. There were even some mornings where I woke up in disbelief seeing numbers below 10.

I CAN travel with diabetes. I CAN eat crap. And I CAN still produce decent blood sugar levels afterwards.

Bring on the next one.

Since When Did Restaurants Become Dictators?

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It really annoys me how arrogant restaurants are getting these days. Gone are the good old days where you could ask for what you wanted and businesses would happily cater to you. Here in Canberra, and even more so back home in Perth, the culture seems to be more and more of “this is what we’re giving you, take it or leave it.”

Hell, some of them don’t even seem to care whether you stay or leave. And a lot of them seem keen to kick you out the minute you’ve finished eating, quickly whisking away the plates and asking if you want to order desert. 

And last night’s dining experience in Canberra would have to top them all. The restaurant where we went for dinner with the family was one of the most bizarre places I’ve ever eaten in. Some of the things I had to hear in that restaurant were beyond a joke.

We wanted to order some bruschetta for a shared entrée, and my brother asked the waitress how many serves came on the dish. “It doesn’t really come in pieces. Its just one big piece, it’s not meant for sharing,” she replied. We got it anyway, figuring that we could just cut it up.

I overheard the large table behind us requesting a jug of soft drink, to which the waitress replied “we don’t do jugs, we only serve soft drinks by the glass.”

My sister also ordered a Pasta dish, and specifically requested it without Parmesan cheese sprinkled on top, as she normally does. “Is that because you’re allergic?” The waitress asked, to which my sister replied “No, I just don’t like it.”

When I thought about this bizarre question my sister was asked, I remembered something odd that I had seen on the front page of the menu. I had struggled to understand what it meant up until then. It read something like:

“We will cater to allergies, but otherwise menu dishes cannot be changed.”

I could really empathise in this situation. I don’t significantly restrict my diet choices when I eat out. And I think a big part of that reason is because there aren’t a lot of restaurants that make me feel comfortable enough to ask for special requirements. It’s a big part of the reason why I’ll opt for table water rather than asking if there is a sugar-free beverage other than diet coke. And it’s a big part of the reason why I’ll shy away from sandwiches rather than asking if I could have multigrain bread.

Look, I’m not asking for a huge diabetes-friendly-carb-free-sugarless menu here. Part of the reason I do go out is to enjoy some of the foods I don’t get to have on a daily basis. But it would be nice if they could make an effort with some of those smaller things. Things that I know other health conscious people would appreciate, too. It would be nice if I could just ask a simple question without getting the third degree.

Melbourne seems to have the right idea. Walk into any of their laneways. Walk onto Lygon Street. You’ll quickly be greeted by a sea of restaurant owners vying for your business. They’ll ask you what you like, and they’ll make you some of those too-good-to-refuse offers. Like a free glass of wine, or a three course meal for $30. It’s a friendly, relaxed atmosphere. I feel comfortable, I have a great time, and I actually want to go back there.

But when I see restaurants who make a big deal over silly things like dinner condiments and drinking glasses, it makes me more inclined to stay home. And if that’s what eating out has become, then I’m sorry but I’ll have to leave it.