Tivo Wine Bar, Yu Yuet Lai Building 43-55 Wyndham St

Ok, I have been a little slack in the foodie blog department of late, though I assure you there’s been plenty of good old-fashioned nose-bagging* going on with Giant Lady. So let’s cut right to it then, shall we?

It was a beautiful hot night, May 15, and the destination was Tivo’s, a very chic little bar slash restaurant on Wyndham Street, up from all the boozehounds down in Lan Kwai Fong.

I arrived straight from work and felt sophisticated, grown-up. An ambitious career-woman in need of some fine dining. Shari was a little late, so I sat down, clicked my fingers and was promptly handed a wine list . . . the NZ sauv blanc please (“Very good Missy,” says my friendly bowing waiter) . . . a curtsey, cartwheel and a corkscrew later, and I am sipping on vino, pretending to be distinguished.

I assure you the illusion did not last . . .

Soon enough Shari arrived and it was ordering time . . . we decided again to share an entrée (awww, aren’t we sweet), and got this fantastic little tapas plate. It had three or four different amazing dips, which were all delectably fresh, which we scooped up with joy using the freshly baked pita bread. Consensus? Delightful . . . more wine please *taps glass*.

Next on to the mains . . . Shari got a crispy prawn salad, which she ate with an impressive amount of gusto leaving nothing on her plate. Her thoughts on it? "Bloody good!" *wipes forehead from eating so quickly*

And I had the salad nicoise with freshly caught tuna, which was served with a delightful wasabi-flavoured mayo, giving this old dog some new tricks. It was cooked to perfection (rare to medium rare) and simply flaked off your fork with its tender loving ways. My thoughts? "Bloo'y goo' 'oo Shar!" *says with mouth full, also wiping forehead*

As I said, the night started in a refined manner . . . and (much to your surprise I am sure) continued to do so as we decided it was a good idea to head to Feather Boa.

Feather Boa is this incredibly mode bar in SoHo, which is ridiculously hard to find, and therefore all the more elusive. Luckily the lovely Shari had been there before, so we found it with minimal fuss.

Suddenly I find myself sipping an incredibly strong gin martini in what appears to be my Nan’s sitting room (I know you hear me, Hamilton’s!).

Trouble?

Well, actually no . . . not at this point.

It wasn’t the fantastic white wine at Tivos, that did it . . . nor was it the impertinently strong martini at Feather Boas . . . could it have been the ‘night cap’ red wine at the weird bar with wasabi peas down the road that did it?

Yes. It is possible.

Cue two giggly Australians, exchanging stories, forgetting what they ordered at dinner and therefore worrying about said blog, stumbling into cabs, shrieking with laughter and then loudly over-pronouncing their destinations to their drivers.

Good food? Hell yeah. 7 out of 10.

Good wine? Even better. 8 out of 10.

Good night? Bloody oath. 10 outta 10!


*nose-bagging is not some form of illicit drug . . . it is apt description of the way I eat, which is similar to that of a horse with their feedbags tied to their faces. Thank you for that one Paul Sutton.