There are multitudes of Indian Restaurants in Perth these days…I am not sure whether it is due to the changing dietary whims of the Australian population, relaxed immigration policy or both – but I think its excellent (the wide choice I mean, not necessarily the quality of every establishment that pops up like a mushroom in the damp cardboard box that is Perth’s suburbia).
For this week’s exciting instalment, I have chosen to review three that we have visited recently…most Thursday nights see us installed (we hope) comfortably in an Indian restaurant sampling a wide range of dishes.
Balti (Perth CBD)
I had occasion to visit Balti on the corner of St Georges/Adelaide Terrace and Victoria Avenue a few weeks ago with a work function and was very pleasantly surprised at the time. The Mr K had the day off work one day, and was able to meet me for lunch so we decided we’d try it again to determine whether it was a one-off or worth a mention. We have since been back for dinner, just to make sure… The fit-out is modern Indian/Australian – by which I mean that it isn’t your typical gaudy red/pink and gold with sparkles and tasselled elephants everywhere, (although it does feature pink as a prominent colour – I don't want you to be disappointed). It also features polished wooden floors, the leather chairs are comfortable and you do not have to shout across the table to be heard. The effect is clean and simple, and the noise level of an evening is tolerable. Wait-staff are prompt and efficient, if a wee bit robotic.
One of our faves here is the Chicken or Goat Biryani ($17-18). The aroma is divine, rice texture is perfect, the meat is beautiful and spice has an excellent depth – just be careful of getting a cardamom pod stuck in your teeth. The Chicken in Saffron and Almond Sauce ($24) is very mild, but still very flavourful – the chicken is tender and in our experience doesn’t involve you accidentally getting any gristly, fatty bits. The sauce is brilliant mopped up with a bit of garlic naan ($4.5 ea). We have also tried the Hyderbadi-Style Fish Korma ($25) which is tasty but not optimum if you are a spice lover, and the Goat Curry ($25) which is brilliant if you like a rich spicy curry with oodles of flavour (I advise Raita on the side). The meat is on the bone, but this does not detract from the experience.
The wine list is not too shabby, we like the Momo Sauvignon Blanc ($40) from Marlborough, NZ (where else!). They also feature a decent selection of local and imported beers.
9Marys (Perth CBD)
I will admit from the outset I feel duped with this one. I visited the first time over 18 months ago, and was left with a hazy but pleasant memory of the food. We tried it again last night in our quest for the perfect Indian and were disappointed. Let me explain…
The fit out of 9marys (sister to Chutney in Subiaco) is quite similar to Balti in the clean, modern chairs and tables, and bright but not over-powering Warhol-esque prints of Queen Mary on the wall. The dining room is quite sophisticated looking, and holds some long high tables and chairs in addition to the usual level dining, which provides some interest. We had occasion to be served by a couple of different wait staff, one bright, bubbly and cheerful but still professional in manner, two others who would not open their mouths and seemed ready to pounce on you the second your plate was empty to whisk it away (by ‘second’ I mean ‘while you are still chewing the mouthful which rendered the plate empty’). It was like being stalked by a hungry vulture…
I hear you, Dear Reader…you are thinking, ‘Ooh if the plates were emptied, it must mean the food was good’. I am sorry to disappoint you, but the plates were emptied because the portions were so small as to make emptying them necessary for our survival until breakfast this morning. Lest I appear to slander, let me hasten to add that the dishes we had were cooked exceedingly well. The Tandoori Tasting plate ($36) was excellent, samples of Tandoori salmon, chicken, homemade paneer and prawns with mint chutney. The size, although decent, was a bit small for the price, but no matter we thought – taste triumphs over value for money quibbles any day. We also ordered Butter Chicken ($26) (in our defence, this is only because the Butter Chicken we had once by accident at the Cinnamon Club and thereafter on purpose is truly excellent; more of a true Murgh Makhani than some mild red slop out of a jar), this came with four small pieces of chicken, and an accompanying sauce. It was nicely cooked and the meat was tender, but flavour-wise left so much to be desired. I think if you added a bit of cream and tomato to the Patak’s Butter Chicken sauce you could get a similar taste. The 9mary’s website informs me that Indian dishes are rarely served ‘steaming hot’ by which I infer that they are referring to the amount of spice present, they also inform me that they ‘delicately blend’ their spices ‘ in meticulous proportions’ to create their dishes. They may be right, but I prefer the delicately blended, meticulous proportions of the Cinnamon Club for this one. Our final dish was the Goat Biryani for One ($19). Again, we were disappointed – perfectly cooked grains of rice, goat on the bone, but lacking in flavour, and such a small serve. Balti, for approximately the same price, represents far better value for money in addition to flavour superiority, and I am not even going to discuss Cinnamon Club’s offering at this point (please see rhapsody below).
The wine list is adequate, but hideously over-priced, in my opinion. The Momo we had at Balti for $40 is on the menu at 9marys for $50, and they have no BYO option (we witnessed them confiscate the bottle of the unsuspecting couple who were seated next to us). My research indicates you can buy this wine for $20 or under when paying retail bottle shop prices. My sense of justice tells me the mark-up at 9marys falls into the category of ‘we have the poor unsuspecting bastards captive – lets squeeze them for every cent’.
To top it all off - we were entertained during our dinner by the playful antics of two resident cockroaches under our table/end Kvetch.
Cinnamon Club (Leederville)
I was recently accused by a close relative of not writing reviews reflective of my usual dining haunts. My justification involved a convoluted yet valid logic that a) people enjoy reading reviews of poor dinners I have had rather than those I really enjoyed and b) if I tell everyone where the good places are, I will not be able to just rock up for dinner there whenever I choose. It will become like Ha-Lu, where I now have to think about it a week or so in advance. That said, I see her point. And I am writing about Indian restaurants anyway – so it is fitting that we discuss the Cinnamon Club.
**Warning: I like this establishment very much, if you are easily bored, you may wish to tune out now**
A few months ago, on an ill-fated (or so we thought) rainy Wednesday night, we tried to get into Ha-Lu and were knocked back (see previous post). We were in Mt Hawthorn anyway, so was a drive of five minutes to Leederville and the Cinnamon Club. We’d been ages before with a bunch of people and remembered it vaguely. It was busy, but a snap of the fingers from the manager and we were seated at the back of the restaurant (it was near the cutlery station, but really, it made no difference until the end of the night when the ambient noise died down a bit, and then the rhythmic crash became a little monotonous). It was conspicuously excellent. It still is.
The Cinnamon Club has a slightly funkier fit out than either Balti or 9marys – a little retro; with massive orange lamp shades and comfy booths if you are lucky enough to snag one. The service is friendly and efficient, but when the dining room is heaving with a mass of well-dressed individuals also clever enough to be there, you might need to occasionally avail yourself of an attention-seeking manoeuvre (by which I do not mean John Travolta style Saturday Night Fever dance moves tabletop [unless you really want to]– more of a smile/wave situation).
We have enjoyed everything we have ever ordered here – honestly. The tasting plates come in three varieties; Vegetarian ($20.5), Mixed ($26.5) and Tandoori ($28.5). The Tandoori is probably my favourite; I love the spiciness of the Seekh Kebab, and the Keema Naan is fantastic. We have settled into a bit of a routine unfortunately; we generally have a tasting plate and two dishes – three leaves you a) unable to walk, and b) with heaps of leftovers. The first dish is invariably the Chicken Biryani (for two people, $34). This is absolutely brilliant, the chicken is tender and gristle-free, rice texture is perfect, its perfectly spiced, and comes with raita and poppadums. We have yet to make it to the bottom of the Biryani bowl, we always end up with someone (not me) getting lunch the next day out of it. The second dish can vary; the Beef Vindaloo ($20.5) is mind-bogglingly hot and I don’t recommend it unless you have a cast-iron stomach, the Butter Chicken ($20.5) is outstanding and has a bit of kick (see above review for detail), the Malai Kofta (cheese and potato dumplings in cashew nut gravy, $15.5) is mild but very rich and a welcome nice change from the usual Indian fare.
We normally have a bottle (or two, depending on how bad the day was) of the Alkoomi Sauvignon Blanc (WA, $38.5) here, the wine list is small but liveable. However; they do offer BYO at $6.50 per bottle, which means if you are organised, you can buy your Momo for $20, and it will still cost you 188% less than it would at 9marys.
So there we have it folks – a trilogy of reviews to mark my triumphant return to the blogosphere (until the next time my day job ruins my social life).
What do you reckon? Had better?
Showing posts with label Perth. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Perth. Show all posts
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
The Brisbane Hotel
I would just like to start today’s pronouncement on dining with a Public Service Announcement: I hate the Brisbane Hotel. Contrary to the reasons I normally hate restaurants, this one actually does not historically have anything to do with the food (decent, although the sausage rolls have been on the menu since the opening day), the fit-out (reasonably funky although dating pretty quickly) or the music (fairly cool in summer, unremarkable in winter). It’s the people, frankly. I detest walking into a room (see my opening post) and having the entire heaving mass of people stop, stare, evaluate you as lacking wank value, and return to their espresso martini (no offence meant to espresso martinis – I really like them).
DESPITE all of the above, I had occasion to go there the other night for dinner. I didn’t have much of a choice, someone else was paying…so I decided to be open minded, and I was prepared to forgive the Brisbane its vacuous, lollipop-esque patrons. There was hardly anyone there, so the patrons couldn’t be faulted this time. But it was boring frankly, and it wasn’t the company I was with. The food was ok, if not inspired. Clearly the GFC is having an effect on the chef’s budget - pork is cheap and it had insinuated its way through the menu like a mutating plague. Bacon, pork belly, pork fillet, more bacon – it had more exposure than Eddie McGuire did in the great Channel 9 epidemic of 2007. I hate pork, and though I defend every individual’s right to eat what they like (within reason – if you can adopt it through the WWF, perhaps we should re-think our dining patterns, no?), it shouldn’t come at the expense of me being able to find something appetising and suitable on the menu. As well as the swine issue, I couldn’t find anything on the wine list I wanted to drink, and no, I was not being difficult. It was…boring, blasé, innocuous, vanilla (no offence meant to vanilla either)…
You know what? I liked it better when I hated it because of what it was – at least then it had personality, even if you wouldn’t have introduced it to your friends.
/end Kvetch
DESPITE all of the above, I had occasion to go there the other night for dinner. I didn’t have much of a choice, someone else was paying…so I decided to be open minded, and I was prepared to forgive the Brisbane its vacuous, lollipop-esque patrons. There was hardly anyone there, so the patrons couldn’t be faulted this time. But it was boring frankly, and it wasn’t the company I was with. The food was ok, if not inspired. Clearly the GFC is having an effect on the chef’s budget - pork is cheap and it had insinuated its way through the menu like a mutating plague. Bacon, pork belly, pork fillet, more bacon – it had more exposure than Eddie McGuire did in the great Channel 9 epidemic of 2007. I hate pork, and though I defend every individual’s right to eat what they like (within reason – if you can adopt it through the WWF, perhaps we should re-think our dining patterns, no?), it shouldn’t come at the expense of me being able to find something appetising and suitable on the menu. As well as the swine issue, I couldn’t find anything on the wine list I wanted to drink, and no, I was not being difficult. It was…boring, blasé, innocuous, vanilla (no offence meant to vanilla either)…
You know what? I liked it better when I hated it because of what it was – at least then it had personality, even if you wouldn’t have introduced it to your friends.
/end Kvetch
Monday, April 13, 2009
The Subiaco Hotel....
A girlfriend and I recently met up for a mid week brekkie at the Subiaco Hotel. I was early (or rather, less late), and wandered into the restaurant. It wasn’t at all busy (a nice change) and they told me I could, "sit anywhere", so I grabbed a magazine and took a seat. It didn’t take them too long to take my coffee order, and it was followed by my coffee reasonably quickly. When D showed up (poor girl, parking in Subi can truly be traumatic), it took us awhile to get the waitperson’s attention - they were playing, "I don’t see you smiling meaningfully at me" (A game for 2 or more players), but we did manage to get in another coffee order. We sat and chatted for awhile, and made the fatal error of saying, "Can you please give us a moment" when they sauntered around to take an order. Turning our attention promptly to the menu, and making a choice quickly (it's limited at breakfast time), we then waited…and waited…
….
After the remains of our coffees eventually fossilised and were ready to be dug up and examined by beardy archaeologist types, I ripped off all my clothes and ran screaming naked after the nearest Wait-thing…(ok, it wasn’t that bad, but it was getting close), and we managed to get an order in. I had not had French Toast in what seemed like aeons, so I ordered that ($15) and D had Scrambled Eggs with spinach and feta ($15). It arrived reasonably promptly. And so it bloody should. Aforementioned French Toast was ONE piece of brioche with berries and little bit of yogurt. The eggs came with ONE triangle of Turkish bread toast. Both were tasty, but if we hadn’t been eating slowly while chatting, we would have needed a second breakfast. I would hate to see a male try to survive more than an hour on that type of sustenance. We couldn’t attract the Wait-thing’s attention to get any more coffee, so we left.
Breakfast for 2, $40. Irritation level 3.5/5 (Don’t bother on a weekend, you’re likely to go postal)
/end Kvetch
Where do you think the best breakfast in Perth can be found? I plan to do some serious investigation of my own...
….
After the remains of our coffees eventually fossilised and were ready to be dug up and examined by beardy archaeologist types, I ripped off all my clothes and ran screaming naked after the nearest Wait-thing…(ok, it wasn’t that bad, but it was getting close), and we managed to get an order in. I had not had French Toast in what seemed like aeons, so I ordered that ($15) and D had Scrambled Eggs with spinach and feta ($15). It arrived reasonably promptly. And so it bloody should. Aforementioned French Toast was ONE piece of brioche with berries and little bit of yogurt. The eggs came with ONE triangle of Turkish bread toast. Both were tasty, but if we hadn’t been eating slowly while chatting, we would have needed a second breakfast. I would hate to see a male try to survive more than an hour on that type of sustenance. We couldn’t attract the Wait-thing’s attention to get any more coffee, so we left.
Breakfast for 2, $40. Irritation level 3.5/5 (Don’t bother on a weekend, you’re likely to go postal)
/end Kvetch
Where do you think the best breakfast in Perth can be found? I plan to do some serious investigation of my own...
Sunday, April 5, 2009
To start...
To properly inaugurate writing my experiences, rather than simply thinking up cutting remarks I could have made at the time, Ms Kvetch presents, "Dietary Disgruntlement and Other Tales: A Surprisingly Nice Weekend". Please note that all wining, dining, staying, and cheese-related experiences are un-sponsored by the providers of said experiences. This is a fact they will be grateful for in general...(but not today - this one is 'Surprisingly Nice').
We spent a recent Saturday night at Core Luxury Retreat in Mundaring. It was a happy accident, I found it on Mundaring Tourism website (I googled ‘accom + perth hills’, otherwise I wouldn’t have know there WAS a Mundaring Tourism website), and we booked and paid on a Thursday (no EFTPOS or credit card facilities, you have to pay by direct debit, which is a wee bit detracting for spontaneity factor). We just went off the website photos, which has been a source of some discomfiture in the past (how do they manage to make a kennel 2x3m look like a 5 star bedroom, even temporarily?), but for a pleasant change, we were not disappointed. We stayed in a ‘modern contemporary’ room in the Lodge proper, the cabins being booked out for the weekend. It was selectively but adequately furnished, LCD TV, robes and slippers, complimentary Verissima aromatherapy pack (awesome lip balm!), chocolates, and a modern shower ensuite. The only real drawback was the lack of bathroom door, which although providing a light and spacious feel to the room, also provided excellent wee acoustics. Personally I feel that there are some things about Mr Kvetch it is appropriate for me NOT to be familiar with, and that is one of them. Overfamiliarity is the death of romance. Any more than a night, and I may have needed to take a turn around the garden until it was deemed safe to return...
The Lodge and gardens are beautifully done, fantastic use of stone, wood, and the local surrounds, completely built by hosts Yvonne and Greg. All of the water is sourced from rainwater tanks, the energy used is solar, and all waste is recycled, so no need feel guilty about the level of your self-indulgence (you may not feel guilty about self-indulgence, for me, its genetic - I just 'feel the fear and do it anyway'). There is a lit infinity pool and deck looking out to the State forest, which is where we chose to have our complimentary welcome platter and bottle of sparkling, and ended up being where we spent our entire evening. Note to Self for next time though: do not leave bottle of tropical strength mozzie repellent at home. The mozzies were remarkably commando-like little bastards – I didn’t feel a thing at the time, but was on anti-histamines for a couple of days afterwards. How they managed to get through the crocodile-esque skin on the bottom of my feet is a mystery...Yvonne did warn us that they were likely to strike at dusk, and disappear upon full darkness, but I don’t think they could have wreaked that much havoc in the short space of a hills sundown.
Yvonne or Greg will drive you to and from the Loose Box if that is where you’d like to have dinner, but not being in the mood for a possibly hit-and-miss degustation ($150pp, not including vino) I opted to bring some platter-y type ingredients of my own. I went to Fig Jam in Mt Hawthorn, and picked up some Buche d’Affinois (the Queen, or King of cheeses, I am not sure which, but it is definitely one of them. The Emperor of cheeses maybe?), Fourme D’Ambert (heavenly) and some Aristos seeded mustard hot smoked salmon (was a bit dubious about this, but it turned out to be quite pleasant, far more appetising than the man himself). A bottle of Oyster Bay Chardonnay (boring but nice enough) and we were ready to go. A note about this; in many of the places we have stayed, the staff/proprietors tend to be a little precious about the consumption of one’s own vino. My answer is that if they provided something worth drinking, one wouldn’t need to bring one’s own vino...causality, lazy wine selection. Yvonne had no such issue, due to the nature of her accommodation, and was quite happy to offer the use of her fridges for our benefit.
When it got a little chillier we headed into the Cabana beside the pool, it’s well fitted with fridge, mini-kitchen, table and chairs, CD player and stacks of CDs, and is where breakfast is served in the morning.
Breakfast is continental – organic yogurt, cereals, approximately 4 million types of tea and coffee, fresh bread, muffins, danishes etc. The only real drawback is that it is communal, and my previous experience with this was again confirmed. You walk into the breakfast room/lounge etc, and everyone stops what they are doing, stares at you, ducks their head and continues on. The silence is so deafening that the clatter of your spoon in your coffee cup resembles a helicopter taking off, and you are not even (always) hungover. If you are going to have a conversation with your partner, its conducted in funeral toned whispers, and someone has always snaffled the New Homes section of the newspaper before you get there. Core was no different in this respect, except for the appalling couple who left before us, and left all of their plates, cutlery, serviettes etc on the table. As everyone who had breakfasted previously had tidied their breakfast detritus away next to the sink, I fail to understand why they could not follow this basic example of consideration for others, however He was the type to wear a jumper casually knotted over his shoulders and a pair of deck shoes even when not on a boat, so that explains a fair bit. So does the reading of the Fin Review on a Sunday morning (I feel sure he wasn’t enjoying it though, it was just part of his look. How he must suffer for his artifice!). Karma evened things up when we discovered an entire untouched bain marie of fresh croissants.
I had booked myself a massage, per options on the website – meditation classes and life coaching/discussions (?) are also offered, but I drink far too much coffee to meditate effectively, and life coaching – well, its very easy to tell people what's wrong with them when it isn’t you, no? I could make a fortune...however back to the subject at hand. Lisa, who does the massages, was very professional. She does an Indian style massage, which was both relaxing and invigorating. These occur down in the gym, which was thankfully free of anyone else, and the only sounds you hear are country type ones...birds, wind, the alpacas in the pasture next door. If I didn’t live 40 odd minutes away, I would certainly be looking to see Lisa more often. Getting a good relaxing massage in Perth is difficult I find. I see a fantastic no-nonsense crew for my dodgy back, shoulders, neck, left ear etc, but sometimes you don’t want to be fixed, you just want to lay there, oozing gently. Beauty salons, which tend to offer these things, are staffed by 18 and 19 year olds who often wouldn’t know professionalism if it smacked them across the back of their pointy little heads, and I am sure they discuss the state of your cellulitey legs on their cigarette breaks. Day Spas, of which I am a huge fan, quite often do better, but I had a rotten experience with one recently, unprofessional fuckers, so they are off my list too. But I digress, if you do spend a weekend at Core, consider Lisa, she may have winced at my cellulite, but I didn’t notice it...
All up? Core Luxury Retreat was a fabulous place for a night away, and more if you can manage it. We left feeling like we’d had a proper change of scenery, and we will be definitely be going back, hopefully soon...I need more lip balm...
We spent a recent Saturday night at Core Luxury Retreat in Mundaring. It was a happy accident, I found it on Mundaring Tourism website (I googled ‘accom + perth hills’, otherwise I wouldn’t have know there WAS a Mundaring Tourism website), and we booked and paid on a Thursday (no EFTPOS or credit card facilities, you have to pay by direct debit, which is a wee bit detracting for spontaneity factor). We just went off the website photos, which has been a source of some discomfiture in the past (how do they manage to make a kennel 2x3m look like a 5 star bedroom, even temporarily?), but for a pleasant change, we were not disappointed. We stayed in a ‘modern contemporary’ room in the Lodge proper, the cabins being booked out for the weekend. It was selectively but adequately furnished, LCD TV, robes and slippers, complimentary Verissima aromatherapy pack (awesome lip balm!), chocolates, and a modern shower ensuite. The only real drawback was the lack of bathroom door, which although providing a light and spacious feel to the room, also provided excellent wee acoustics. Personally I feel that there are some things about Mr Kvetch it is appropriate for me NOT to be familiar with, and that is one of them. Overfamiliarity is the death of romance. Any more than a night, and I may have needed to take a turn around the garden until it was deemed safe to return...
The Lodge and gardens are beautifully done, fantastic use of stone, wood, and the local surrounds, completely built by hosts Yvonne and Greg. All of the water is sourced from rainwater tanks, the energy used is solar, and all waste is recycled, so no need feel guilty about the level of your self-indulgence (you may not feel guilty about self-indulgence, for me, its genetic - I just 'feel the fear and do it anyway'). There is a lit infinity pool and deck looking out to the State forest, which is where we chose to have our complimentary welcome platter and bottle of sparkling, and ended up being where we spent our entire evening. Note to Self for next time though: do not leave bottle of tropical strength mozzie repellent at home. The mozzies were remarkably commando-like little bastards – I didn’t feel a thing at the time, but was on anti-histamines for a couple of days afterwards. How they managed to get through the crocodile-esque skin on the bottom of my feet is a mystery...Yvonne did warn us that they were likely to strike at dusk, and disappear upon full darkness, but I don’t think they could have wreaked that much havoc in the short space of a hills sundown.
Yvonne or Greg will drive you to and from the Loose Box if that is where you’d like to have dinner, but not being in the mood for a possibly hit-and-miss degustation ($150pp, not including vino) I opted to bring some platter-y type ingredients of my own. I went to Fig Jam in Mt Hawthorn, and picked up some Buche d’Affinois (the Queen, or King of cheeses, I am not sure which, but it is definitely one of them. The Emperor of cheeses maybe?), Fourme D’Ambert (heavenly) and some Aristos seeded mustard hot smoked salmon (was a bit dubious about this, but it turned out to be quite pleasant, far more appetising than the man himself). A bottle of Oyster Bay Chardonnay (boring but nice enough) and we were ready to go. A note about this; in many of the places we have stayed, the staff/proprietors tend to be a little precious about the consumption of one’s own vino. My answer is that if they provided something worth drinking, one wouldn’t need to bring one’s own vino...causality, lazy wine selection. Yvonne had no such issue, due to the nature of her accommodation, and was quite happy to offer the use of her fridges for our benefit.
When it got a little chillier we headed into the Cabana beside the pool, it’s well fitted with fridge, mini-kitchen, table and chairs, CD player and stacks of CDs, and is where breakfast is served in the morning.
Breakfast is continental – organic yogurt, cereals, approximately 4 million types of tea and coffee, fresh bread, muffins, danishes etc. The only real drawback is that it is communal, and my previous experience with this was again confirmed. You walk into the breakfast room/lounge etc, and everyone stops what they are doing, stares at you, ducks their head and continues on. The silence is so deafening that the clatter of your spoon in your coffee cup resembles a helicopter taking off, and you are not even (always) hungover. If you are going to have a conversation with your partner, its conducted in funeral toned whispers, and someone has always snaffled the New Homes section of the newspaper before you get there. Core was no different in this respect, except for the appalling couple who left before us, and left all of their plates, cutlery, serviettes etc on the table. As everyone who had breakfasted previously had tidied their breakfast detritus away next to the sink, I fail to understand why they could not follow this basic example of consideration for others, however He was the type to wear a jumper casually knotted over his shoulders and a pair of deck shoes even when not on a boat, so that explains a fair bit. So does the reading of the Fin Review on a Sunday morning (I feel sure he wasn’t enjoying it though, it was just part of his look. How he must suffer for his artifice!). Karma evened things up when we discovered an entire untouched bain marie of fresh croissants.
I had booked myself a massage, per options on the website – meditation classes and life coaching/discussions (?) are also offered, but I drink far too much coffee to meditate effectively, and life coaching – well, its very easy to tell people what's wrong with them when it isn’t you, no? I could make a fortune...however back to the subject at hand. Lisa, who does the massages, was very professional. She does an Indian style massage, which was both relaxing and invigorating. These occur down in the gym, which was thankfully free of anyone else, and the only sounds you hear are country type ones...birds, wind, the alpacas in the pasture next door. If I didn’t live 40 odd minutes away, I would certainly be looking to see Lisa more often. Getting a good relaxing massage in Perth is difficult I find. I see a fantastic no-nonsense crew for my dodgy back, shoulders, neck, left ear etc, but sometimes you don’t want to be fixed, you just want to lay there, oozing gently. Beauty salons, which tend to offer these things, are staffed by 18 and 19 year olds who often wouldn’t know professionalism if it smacked them across the back of their pointy little heads, and I am sure they discuss the state of your cellulitey legs on their cigarette breaks. Day Spas, of which I am a huge fan, quite often do better, but I had a rotten experience with one recently, unprofessional fuckers, so they are off my list too. But I digress, if you do spend a weekend at Core, consider Lisa, she may have winced at my cellulite, but I didn’t notice it...
All up? Core Luxury Retreat was a fabulous place for a night away, and more if you can manage it. We left feeling like we’d had a proper change of scenery, and we will be definitely be going back, hopefully soon...I need more lip balm...
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