Over dinner, we talked a little about our memories of the lunch we enjoyed at the world-renowned Noma, when it operated briefly in Sydney. With only a limited run in Sydney, it was something we had planned several months for. And even now, eighteen months later, I still remember almost every detail of the experience.
OystersPigs Ear
Dining at Aløft in Hobart was probably the first time since then, since the three of us, had enjoyed a “fancy meal” together. A lot has happened since then. Most notably, Damien and Kristen are now living in Hobart. And so when I told them I was coming down here, they immediately suggested dining at a restaurant they had been keen to try but hadn’t gotten around to.
With spectacular views overlooking the water, the restaurant also enjoys terrific service (like genuinely good service that was neither too attentive, not too distant, with waiters and sommeliers who seemed to genuinely know what they were talking about), as well as genuinely very good, flavorsome, interesting food.
Menu
The only thing we didn’t really enjoy was the fried chicken, and that was only because it was messy/difficult to eat. Along the way, we enjoyed some cocktails, some sake, and a terrific “orange wine” from France. The degustation cost $75 per head.
Sometimes I wonder about the image to the world I project from this blog. Do I come across as some kind of cliched poof with a penchant for the campness associated with Swedish pop?
As much as I love Swedish pop music – with its associated campness – there’s lots of other Swedish music I like also.
In fact, I was chatting about it today with some colleagues. I mentioned the rather odd interesting/odd statistic that, just a few weeks ago, Max Martin had been responsible for 5 of the Top 10 songs in America. As part of the general chatter, I’d mentioned that Max Martin was actually the Swedish-born and Stokcholm-based Martin Karl Sandberg, and that he’d written songs for the likes of Backstreet Boys, Britney Spears, *NSYNC, Kelly Clarkson, Katy Perry, Pink and others.
“So why do you think the Swedes are so successful at pop music?”, was the question in response. And so I replied I thought it had a lot to do with the different cultural influences – US, UK, European – over the years which had allowed the Swedes to blend a universality/internationalism in their musical style than translated well for the modern times. I’m not sure if that’s entirely right, or that it holds much water as a theory, but it’s my theory nonetheless.
Which brings me to the perception – in Australia at least- that when it comes to Swedish music, it’s all about pop music. I LOVE POP MUSIC. The brashy, the camp, the Eurovision. I love it, due to the absolute joy in the music. But there’s also something about Swedish music that touches me in many ways. I think it’s the melancholy. Sometimes I think the Swedes compose the pop in the endless daylight of summer, and the melancholy during the long months of winter. Again, a theory which probably doesn’t hold much to scrutiny, but it’s out there anyway.
So I thought I’d post a few Youtube clips to demonstrate there’s more to Svensk pop musik than Melodifestivalen. Here’s a few of my current favourites.
carl noren – the anger
Smalfilm – Johan Borgert
Veronica Maggio, Snook, Petter – Inga problem (Remix)
Säkert – Fredrik (official video)
I hope you’ve enjoyed them.
And let’s not begin to talk about Swedish jazz, folk, classical, country music and so on. There’s a massive discussion to be had there, today’s was just about pop.
I read recently that actor Alexander Skarsgård has officially returned to Stockholm to live. He comes from that famous Swedish acting dynasty—I think there are eight siblings in total—and apparently, he’s moved back for good now that he and his partner have a child. The articles say you can spot him going about his daily life as a local, even hitting the public saunas. I wasn’t particularly aware of him as an individual until I saw him play the tech billionaire in Succession, but I’ve certainly developed an appreciation for his range since then.
Tonight, I went to see his new film, Pillion. Even though it’s not a Swedish production and was showing in Sydney a few weeks ago, there’s a definite buzz about it here. It felt right to see it in his home city.
It’s a challenging, intense film with a strong gay theme, centering on a BDSM relationship between his character, Ray, and a man named Colin, played by Harry Melling, who played Dudley Dursley in Harry Potter.
In the film, Skarsgård plays a very masculine English “top,” and while I’ve personally always preferred relationships that don’t revolve around role-playing or power imbalances, the film really forces you to think about the different ways people connect.
The power dynamics shift in ways I didn’t expect; at one point, it seems Colin might take control, and eventually, a sense of evenness emerges.
There’s a wonderful, sharp line from the mother, Delia, when she meets Ray for dinner that perfectly captures the outside world’s confusion toward their bond. It’s a bit of a rollercoaster—not for the faint-hearted—but at an hour and 40 minutes, it never dragged. I was on the edge of my seat until the very end, which featured a significant plot twist I won’t give away.
Earlier today, I made my way to Fotografiska, the wonderful photography gallery down on the Stockholm waterfront.
Given my limited mobility as an amputee, the walk from public transport is a bit much, so I opted for a Bolt. It turned out to be a great decision, as I had a fascinating chat with the driver. He’s from Kiruna in the far north and flies down weekly to work in Stockholm. We talked about how his hometown is literally subsiding due to the iron ore mine and how his house is being bought back by the government so it can be moved. I told him about my family in Lismore who went through a similar buy-back process after the floods. It was one of those lovely, unexpected moments of human connection..
The main exhibition featured the legendary Elliott Erwitt—a massive retrospective called Through the Playful Eyes of Elliott Erwitt. It’s full of his signature urban escapes and those famous black-and-white images of dogs and candid street moments. While Erwitt is a master of finding humour and humanity in the mundane, truthfully, the whimsical tone didn’t quite move me today.
However, I had fun tailing a Swedish-language tour for a while. I only know the basics of the language, but because the guide spoke slowly and used visual cues from the art, I managed to follow about two-thirds of it.
Afterward, I retreated to the café on the top floor to soak in the waterfront views over a coffee.
I’ve found myself heading back to the hotel a few times throughout day just to rest my leg.
I did manage lunch at Kulturhuset, which was bustling with an older weekday crowd, a different side of the city than I usually see.
I ended the evening at “The Half Way Inn,” a cozy Scottish pub near Mariatorget that I’ve frequented on previous trips.
There was a duo playing electric keyboard and guitar —easy-listening jazz that felt just right for a Tuesday night.
There was an early morning rush for the front door, as the buzzer range loudly at about 6.15am Sunday. The buzzer for my front door was recently replaced, and the the ringer is maybe a little bit loud. So when it rang I was awoken suddenly, and went into a bit of a panic. And then it rang again.
I had ordered grocery delivery for the 6 AM to 9 AM window, but I was expecting them closer to the end of the window. I usually wake up at 5:30 AM, but I spend an hour in bed listening to the radio and reading online before getting up and putting on my prosthetic leg.
I wasn’t ready, so I rushed to put on my leg without taking the necessary time. To put on a prosthetic leg, you need to carefully put on a silicone sleeve that connects to and protects your stump. Due to a range of factors, including temperature, your remaining limb can vary considerably. So you also need to put on amputee socks that accommodate the daily variations in the size of your remaining limb. It usually takes me about 90 seconds to do this, but sometimes I have to go back and do it again if I haven’t gotten it right.
Prosthetic leg, and the sock over the silicon sleeve that connects.
Yesterday morning, I couldn’t get it together in the rush to answer the buzzer and meet the grocery delivery person. So, armed with my crutches, I “hopped” to the door, instead of walking.
“Sorry I’m a bit slower to answer,” I told him, pointing to my prosthetic leg on the floor.
Even though I have capacity in my NDIS package for a support worker to accompany me to the shops, I’m really enjoying home delivery.
We had groceries home delivered when I was a young child, but I’m a relatively late personal convert. I’ve always preferred the idea of going to the supermarket for a few smaller shopping excursions. I like the social aspect, as well as the surprise element of discovering new items, seasonal fresh produce, and surprise specials.
But my personal circumstances have changed in the last few months, and online grocery shopping and deliveries have been a very positive revelation. For me, as a single person now living with a disability, home deliveries have been a good way of settling into my new life.
Earlier, I had considered one of those meal delivery plans, but decided against them for a couple of reasons. I didn’t really like the meals being offered in the various plans, they seemed quite expensive, and I was also worried I would end up ordering too much food and throwing things out.
There are some terrible figures about the amount of food waste most homes have each year. But because I don’t have the capacity to quickly pop down to the shops like I used to, including for takeaway, I need to think more carefully about what I’m ordering. As a result, I’m not throwing out the actual food, even though there is probably more packaging going into the bin.
The reason for the early morning delivery? I was meeting some friends for a picnic lunch in a nearby park, and I needed to cook some chicken and make a salad in preparation.
Next time, I think I’ll organise a later delivery.
It’s the early hours of Wednesday morning. I came home from work tonight not feeling well. I am thinking that maybe it was something in the building, as a lot of people at work today mentioned they didn’t feel well. Perhaps it’s Legionnaire’s Disease? Perhaps it’s SARS? All I know, however, is that a couple of us didn’t feel well today, and we’re beginning to wonder if there’s something in the air conditioner. Whatever. I came home tonight, hit the couch, slept for a few hours, although I woke up to watch “The Bill” of course, and consequently I am now awake. I have made good use of the time by writing up the minutes for the art group, and working on a few things. I also chatted briefly with my online friend, David.
I enjoyed a lovely Saturday night with my friend, Richard, attending a performance by the Sydney Symphony Orchestra at the Opera House. It’s Edo de Waarts final year with the SSO and according to their publicity blurb,
The four operas in Wagner’s Ring Cycle, performed in concert, have also been landmarks in the artistic development of the Sydney Symphony under Edo de Waart. For his final season he reassembles a stellar cast of distinguished international and Australian singers led by soprano Elizabeth Connell. She starred in each of the four Ring Cycle operas in 1995, 1997, 1999 and 2000, and will again scale the heights of Act 3 of The Valkryie, an operatic tour de force which opens with the famous Ride of the Valkyries.
It was a really enjoyable night, beautifully performed.
I spent most of Sunday procrastinating about my university of assignment. The problem was that I couldn’t really remember how to write a 2,000 word assignment, so I telephoned my friend Sue and asked her for advice.
Half way through the day, checking my home email, I was interested to read the hot news on ABBAMAIL today, which concerns a further report in the Swedish newspaper, Aftonbladet about Agnetha’s plans to record a new CD. According to a translation of the article by Micke Hjernestam,
The most secret recording project in Sweden is taking shape. This winter AF, 52, plans a comeback, with a pop album in English. – She thinks it’s great fun, says the ABBA-stars closest confident, Staffan Lindé. The project is surrounded by maximum secrecy. But now it’s a fact. The ABBA-star AF makes her comeback as a pop artist after 16 years of abscence from the music scene.
Actually, I was telling my boss at work today about the Agnetha CD story which, as a follower of popular music, he said was quite interesting. He also told me that, a million years ago, in his first job in Australian commercial radio, he interviewed (briefly) Bjorn and Agnetha during the 1977 tour. And get this, he was working for 2LT, a small commercial station in the Blue Mountains, west of Sydney! He said he thinks he still has a copy of it at home somewhere. His greatest memory was of Agnetha’s poor English language skills. A reminder that, many years ago, the members of ABBA were not so reclusive!
Right now, I’m watching NBC Today. What is it with the news-ticker on EVERY news program these days? It’s the latest trend in television news… I wonder how long it will last. But on a positive note, I love how they’re giving the weather in Iraq before they announce, “here’s what’s happening in your neck of the woods!”. Camp!
As if we don’t already have enough construction underway in the neighbourhood (eventually it will be awesome, but for right now, the light rail is a pain in the arse) they’re building a new apartment block on the corner of my street. Though I mostly use the back lane-way to enter my building, I thought I’d go for a walk down the street for a closer look. After all, it was a Sunday, there’d be no one around, I thought, but to my surprise there was a bit of activity.
I’d just been for a lengthy walk around the neighbourhood, starting in Darlinghurst and ending up back in Surry Hills. Along the way, I snapped a few photographs of things which caught my eye for the first time, or in the case of the beautiful door at Mrs Red & Sons, for the umpteenth time in many, many years.
Mrs Red on Crown Street, Surry HillsMirror Art
In the midst of all the construction work, it was lovely to look around and reflect on what a terrific neighbourhood it is to live in.
And then, when I entered the street to take a look at the apartment block construction, I saw a thirty-something bloke (who I later discovered was called Angus) all by himself, struggling, to re-erect the construction fence, which had been blown down by the strong winds of the last day or so.
“Do you need a hand?”, I asked him, to which he replied with an enthusiastic yes. Though I thought this would be a quick, easy job, it actually turned out to be quite a job. The fence and stabilisers were very heavy.
After a while, another bloke called Pepper, who also lives in my street, stopped by to help. Eventually, we got the fence standing upright, and despite a flew bloody scratches, I felt a sense of join achievement, in my first bit of proper manual work in many, many years. And hey, Surry Hills – the suburb where people help others.
When it became fairly obvious there was absolutely no chance of NSW recovering in the State of Origin decider, people began leaving the pub. By the time the game was over, it was pretty much us, and nobody else.
The SSO wasn’t the drawcard for us to go to the Centennial Hotel in Woollahra: the drawcard was the chef, Justin North (formerly Becasse etc) and the offer of a $28 meal if we dined before 6.30pm. For $28 you get a main course, a side, and some ice-cream at the end. Though I’m sure lots of people “upgrade” we were more than happy with the offer.
As you’ll see the meals look good, and are of a good size. And tasty. I had the barramundi which was excellent. For some odd reason we all chose the same side meal: sprouts with bacon which was also excellent. At the end, the ice-cream was a simple scoop of home made ice-cream with butterscotch. The atmosphere and service were also very good. So all in all, a really good way to spend the night.
Afterwards we had a few more glasses of wine, and then a couple of beers, and chatted, and watched the dying minutes of the SOO. That was the only bad thing about the evening.
Beautiful setting.
Love the view! Menu looked incredibly too…