I choose dinner

by Tilly

They say that having a gym buddy is good for motivation. That theory didn’t fly yesterday when upon meeting Tara-Zee in the gym parking lot, a unanimous decision was taken to get straight back into our cars and meet at the nearest restaurant. Hey, at least we made it to the parking lot.

“Shall we try something different?” I said. “Don’t be stupid,” Tara-Zee said. Why ruin a winning formula, right? You see, Tara-Zee and I have this ritual. It’s Friday, one of us has a wobbly at work, the other secretly thinks “Thank God it’s not me today” and off we go to lunch at Pomodoro at Morningside Shopping Centre. We order a l’insalate con pere e pecorino, la pizza con salame e carciofini, a one-litre bottle of sparkling water and glass of unwooded chardonnay (don’t tell the boss). All to share, of course. Of course.

But, no matter what Tara-Zee insisted, tonight was going to be different for a variety of reasons. Firstly, there were no available tables in the outside deck area, which meant that we were shown to a table next to the bustling waitron station. Secondly, it was a Tuesday evening and not Friday lunchtime, which meant that the waiters were all different. And thirdly, neither of us had had a wobbly that day.

In the spirit of mixing things up without really mixing anything up, we decided that instead of ordering our usual salami and artichoke pizza (10 points if you already figured out that’s what it was), we would order one of the specials. The conversation went like this:

Me: Should we order our usual pizza?

Tara-Zee: That ravioli sounded good.

Me: What ravioli?

Tara-Zee: The one that the waiter told us about.

Me: What waiter?

Tara-Zee: The waiter that came over and told us what the specials for the evening were.

Me: Oh. Where was I?

Tara-Zee: On Facebook again. Honestly, we may as well be married.

Me: Nah. We’d always be drinking. That wouldn’t be a healthy marriage.

Tara-Zee: So are we getting the ravioli?

Me: What’s in it?

Tara-Zee: Duck. And with a Cointreau sauce.

Me: I don’t want to drink and drive.

Tara-Zee: They burn the alcohol off, so I think it’ll be okay.

Me: Fine. Get that. But then I’m choosing the salad.

Tara-Zee: We’re getting a different salad?

We ended up getting the same salad (pear and pecorino with shaved almonds, yum) and ordered a glass of wine. The waiter seemed confused about the one-glass-of-wine-and-one-empty-wine-glass-thing and so decided to block it out of his mind. Thankfully, two other waiters, a salad and a plate with four pieces of duck-filled ravioli later, his memory was jogged and he plonked the glasses down (already shared out at the bar, excuse me) with a cheerful “No drinking and driving for youuuu”. Genius.

Since we had a whole glass of wine left to drink, we decided to really move away from the whole gym idea and order dessert. We ended up ordering two: la pannacotta con frutti di bosco, which was more of a berry and milky porridge in a bowl. If I were a judge on MasterChef I’d say: “Hmm. Seems your pannacotta hasn’t set properly.” But I’m not a judge on MC, so I ate it. It was nice and the kind of thing I’d eat alone on a Saturday night on the couch. The second dessert was Il torta alla mandorle, which was a nyummy almond tart on a bed of honey (so much of honey) with a side of gelato.

Dessert done, and wine glasses empty, we got that sudden ‘man, I’m tired. Let’s pay immediately and get home’ feeling, which was inconvenient for a restaurant with one bluetooth credit card machine (at least it’s bluetooth…). We eventually managed to pay the bill. (Which we split. Obviously.) Not a bad price for a classy restaurant and I usually don’t mind forking out at Pomodoro, but it was a little steep for an evening where:

a)      the salad leaves tasted a little like chlorine

b)      there were fewer almond shavings in the salad than usual

c)      the wine was only delivered to the table after dinner

d)     the pannacotta was runny and served in a bowl, and

e)      the chefs (visible kitchen) had moustaches for Movember (noble, but not so attractive, and thankfully over as of today).

Overall, though, I like Pomodoro and the manager is always visible and available if you are so inclined to complain. Tara-Zee and I will go back. And we will share a l’insalate con pere e pecorino. And a glass of unwooded chardonnay.

PS. It’s always me that has the wobbly.