When we lived in Sydney, we rented a great flat in Cammeray, looking across Middle Harbour. We had a lovely big park where we could fly our remote control plane and buzz dogs (see picture of plane crashing). It took 8 minutes on the bus to get to work in the CBD. We had 3 excellent restaurants and a host of OK ones within walking distance.
Our schedule this trip was too tight to do absolutely everything we wanted to do - but we did get to go back to Epoque. This "Belgian beer cafe" was part office, part living room for us. Whether it was just hopping off the bus a stop early to have an afternoon beer, walking up the hill for a pot of mussels when we couldn't be bothered cooking or using it as a convenient spot to meet friends, it was our place.
So along with Paul's brother, sister in law and their enormous children (how can people be so tall?) we made a respectful pilgrimage.
I think I would have cried if it wasn't as good as I remembered. As it was, I almost cried when two of the waitresses were still the same. 3 years is a lifetime in hospitality.
For me, there was never any doubt. I was going to have a mussel pot with frites and mayonnaise. And a hoegaarden beer. It took a moment or two of vacillating between marinere, provencal and white wine mussels, but I settled on the white wine.
Paul, in memory of the many meals of suckling pig that we have enjoyed with family and friends, selected crisp roast pork belly. My gosh that was a plate of food. Mashed potatoes, sauerkraut, apple puree and gravy cuddled up to the slab of meltingly soft meat and crisp crackling. It felt like coming home.