Always the last on any bandwagon, I have finally hauled my arse to Franklin Manor to be seduced by the Anais Nin of gastronomy, Monsieur Meyjitte Boughenout, and his wife Debbie (eerily reminiscent of Sigourney Weaver). You may have noticed in Friday's real estate guide that FM is for sale (the leasehold will set you back around $600 big ones) ... but I already knew (don't you just love being a smart arse know-it-all?).
The food was, well, all I can say is ...
Oh my God, yes, yes, yes, YES!
And guess what, there will soon be multiple orgasms for all, cos the Boughenouts and their little ones are moving to Hobart. Hurrah! Get your credit card balances in order, keep you diary free, and get ready to add your name to what will no doubt be a lengthy waiting list. Rumour has it (in fact, it ain't rumour) that properties around Hobart have been eyed off (including the Elbow Room site). My heart is going pitty-pat as I write.
The sad news is that Strahan will lose its brightest star, which is a shame for such a stunning location. After Franklin Manor, Risby Cove is perhaps the next on Strahan's dining ladder. To compare these would be insufferably cruel. Risby Cove is not bad; the site is lovely and the staff are enthusiastic and friendly. Simplify the menu and you'll be apples.
But getting back to my culinary sex life: I'm going to try to be chaste and virtuous until Meyjitte opens his doors in Hobart, at which point I will attempt all seven deadly sins at one sitting. Woo hoo, can't wait!