i was asked to provide feedback on The Italian Waiters Club (oddly enough, by someone not in Australia…you know who you are and if you plan on visiting, you better tell me!). I went there with a girlfriend after work a couple of weeks ago and here’s my recap.
My poor girlfriend! she walked up the collins street hill to my office in heels! she’s crazy but i’m totally feelin’ her sore feet so i suggest we just go to the bar across from the restaurant for a quick drink before our booking at 6.30. now the restaurant is in some little laneway off one of the main drags in the CBD (Bourke street) and we weren’t sure which way to turn once we got there. i of course suggested turning the wrong way and had to turn back but we found it. by this point, i think my friend was considering cutting off her feet. it’s not that hidden away really. some of the bars in the city are tucked deep into long winding laneways. this one is easy to find if you don’t listen to my crap sense of direction. much to our relief there were two empty stools next to some super annoying girl with blond fluffy hair and her friend clad in suit, pointy white shoes and mullet (love melbourne). after having vodka (me) and some weird pinkish champagne (yeah i know, i looked at her weird), we decided to ascend the rickety stairs that lead to the restaurant.
i flung open the door and it was like a tiny version of denny’s. actually, that’s not fair. the waitresses don’t wear ugly brown uniforms and there wasn’t a group of emo kids sitting in the corner talking about jack kerouac/dungeons & dragons whilst taking advantage of the free coffee refill policy (hey, we all know who i’m talking about here). it was a diner, with formica tables, non descript chairs and little vases with a flower in them (i can’t remember if it was a real flower). my first thought was “i can’t believe this place takes bookings.” good thing they do though because the place was busy. we were shown to our table which was next to the Pepsi cooler and were told that our menu was on blackboards strategically placed in the two places in the restaurant that made it hard for us to read. i ordered lasagne and my friend got spaghetti and meatballs and we both got a glass of wine and some garlic bread.
before the meal came, my girlfriend asked me if there was a money machine nearby because she only had $20 in cash. i told her that i had about $1oo so we should be okay but if not, one of us can run out.
oh the wine. they serve it in juice glasses filled almost to the top. it was great! one glass and i was right for the rest of the night.
garlic bread. nothing spectacular but it did tick the boxes of (a) being bread and (b) having garlic on it. i like the frozen garlic bread from the supermarket so i’m probably not the best person to judge but i thought it was good.
food. omg. so. good. portions were quite large and we both said that there was no way we would be able to finish. yeah right. twenty minutes later, we were practically licking our plates to get the last of the sauce.
we didn’t have room for dessert shamefully. if the brit were with us, he would have had dessert anyway. but us, being two girly girls who are supposed to be conscious of our figures and all that antiquated jazz, decided to forego dessert. i actually think the prospect of my friend having to run to the ATM machine in her heels scared her off (though i would’ve offered to go!). we asked for the bill and it was $50. my girlfriend looked at me and said “each?” i had to double check the bill but it was $50 for both of us. damn, we could’ve had the tiramisu but there’s always next time.
so there you go - my experience (and more). i’d go there again. i’d definitely recommend it. i’m dying to take the brit there. if you come to melbourne, you should check it out (and the flower drum which is my favourite!).
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