Last Sunday's NYTimes had a large chunk of the travel section dedicated to
AussieLand, especially Sydney because of the upcoming Olympics. Naturally,
reporters travel on their stomachs and whatdoyouknow. In an article
praising 4 Sydney restaurants, one of the four is called "MG Garage"
(pronounced, I would expect, Gay-raj). Showed a picture of the
centerpiece, the windshield of an MGF 1.8i.
I was more interested in the tiny tureen of fennel soup with crunchy
chunks of almond and the braised ocean trout wrapped in sorrel with
anchovies and capers, or the quail and pig trotter sausage encased in vine
leaves, appropriately seasoned with a perfect blend of Morrocan spices.
For you epicures, roast pigeon with braised pine mushrooms and white
polenta or bacon-and-herb-crumbed fillet of rabbit with liver faggots. I
thought a faggot was a smoke, not patties of liver wrapped in crepine.
Sorry, I cannot do this anymore. I'm off to Burger King.
Bill
'76B
"Sacred cows make divine hamburgers."
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