For one reason and another I found myself in NoCRo this morning (i.e., North-of-Creek-Road, alright, Glenorchy). As I pulled up outside Banjo’s in Main Rd (it was EARLY, nothing else was open!) I got to thinking about my lovely banter yesterday with Jamey about coffee. Banjo’s was very busy for so early in the morning, people buying their kids school lunches (!), buying the paper, buying coffee. It was crowded inside and raining outside. Anyway … as luck would have it, the woman behind the counter was too busy to serve me and called for assistance from the staff out back (i.e., the bakers and their apprentices). Oh my goodness, I thought to myself, I am about to be served coffee made by a baker. Should be interesting. So, the coffee was duly ordered from the medieval minstrel, I mean baker. It wasn’t a latte, it may not have even been skinny milk, and when I lifted the lid, if I hadn’t seen its preparation with my own eyes, I would have wondered if it was even coffee. Naturally my thoughts turned to Jamey’s witticism about the Perth truckstop’s International Roast and hot milk. Did it serve me right? In my very best Carry Bradshaw voice I heard myself ask: Are We Just Snobs?
Surely there are decent restaurants with many a loyal local patron in the northern suburbs. (And I will slap anyone who suggests Moorilla). So I pulled out my trusty 2005 phonebook (always carry one in my back pocket), in search of potentially divine dining in the northern suburbs, and this is what I found. First I was assaulted with the visual audacity of Mure’s full-page technicolour ad (featuring a cluttered table bearing some kind of seafood scrum). But it gets better. Very next page … full-page Drunken Admiral ad featuring a daggy empty pine table setting (mmm, definitely gets my appetite fired up!). And on and on with full-colour full-page ads ranging from the sublime (no, actually I made that up) to the ridiculous (they were all ridiculous). And then I saw it … like a shining beacon of hope. Nosh Pit. Homestyle Cooking. A La Carte & Buffet. Children Welcome. Regular Entertainment. New Norfolk.
Now, for all I know, Nosh Pit is some kind of New Norfolk slang for arm pit. But the thought of a buffet plus children plus entertainment has sent my heart all aflutter. I’ve heard good things (from a very unreliable source) about Verandahs in New Norfolk, and the Bush Inn does do a fairly traditional counter meal (remember those?). But for Glenorchy, the locality guide in the phone book only lists the China City Restaurant (Dine In & Take Away). Or there is the Hilltop at Granton (“… an intimate restaurant, stunning river views, great food, personal service, no parking worries, and a conference and function centre for 20 to 200”). I wondered if there could be a hidden, secret place, where the locals know how good the food is, how great the service is, and where everyone knows your name. I wondered if there was a place where it was warm inside and the food made you squeal with child-like delight. I wondered if I should put my prejudices aside and explore the northern suburbs with gay abandon. And then I thought, how could I possibly cover all the options alone? So, dear readers, I beseech you, go forth and discover. Go where no HRB has gone before. Discover the northern eateries and let me know what you find.
I double dare you.