Memories of Miss Memory

…..three words…. The Supper Club. I mentioned this to a Melbournian today and they said that was such a Sydney thing to say. However its true. I can’t think of anything quite like the Supper Club in Sydney. And if there was such a thing it certainly wouldn’t be as colourful and inclusive as this establishment. I even wore thongs in there and nothing was said. Truly a place to be cherished.

K and I were in there on Saturday night after Honky Tonks. We ordered a glass of smashing barossa shiraz (i can’t remember the name - it was late) but we never ended up with it because another customer bought us both a glass of Rose. We ordered cheese and drank our chilled cheery wine and marvelled at the texture and flavours of the cheeses. Its a shame to go to the Supper Club after imbibing rude cocktails at a club. The palette is well and truly numbed and the finer points are lost. Anyway one glass was enough because I was completely sloshed after that. We rolled home at 3am zizizizizzzzzzzzzz…….