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Delizie is a modern Italian cafe and deli specializing in local and imported fine foods. Daniel and his wife Veronica own and run this little gem with help from his sister Jo in Sydney, Australia. Every morning they turn out fresh, delectable

meals and greet every customer with a smile making them feel as though they were long-lost family members. They won the coveted prize (which sadly wins them nothing of value other than the prestige of having their name in print on this blog) of the best service I had while visiting Oz. I interviewed Daniel about what it’s like to play double duty as chef/server and this is what he had to say.

Name: Daniel Iannello.

Hometown: Sydney.

How did Delizie Di Casa come to be? I was working for a food importer supplying to deli’s and cafe’s and I always had a dream to open my own one day. We came across the site at Moore Park Gardens and 6 six years later here we are today.

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EL LOCO MEXICAN CANTINA Y BARRA

64 Foveaux Street

Surrey Hills NSW 2010

☏ +61 2 9211 4945

RATING: Worth A Bang

I often take things for granted. Like running water or a place that serves an all you can eat salad bar with bottomless bread sticks. I can’t fathom what it must be like to not know the comfort of Charmin toilet paper, freedom of speech or women having equal rights. Naturally, in my head I like to believe that all these simple luxuries are available worldwide, but clearly that is not the case. Just try dressing like a Hooter’s waitress in Tehran and making a joke about the Koran and see what happens. (Actually don’t ever try that, it’s a terrible suggestion.)

My point here is that after a few weeks of enjoying the beauty of holiday, as the local Aussies call it, I found myself craving some comforts of home. Mainly some fantastic Mexican grub and good old-fashioned margaritas. Again taking for granted that I’ve been fortunate enough to be neighbors of the country that invented margaritas and wild nights with donkeys. Thankfully our hosts from down under had either travelled and or lived in the USA and knew the difference between authentic Mexican cuisine and what people halfway across the globe imagine it to taste like. After being grossly disappointed by countless margaritas at bars and restaurants throughout Sydney, I was so relieved when our hosts mentioned that they had the perfect place to introduce us to. Deb swore that it was the closest thing we would find to authentic Mexican food in Sydney. And gracias a dios she was right. Located inside the Excelsior Hotel in Surrey Hills, this rustic little cantina boasts that they use authentic recipes with delisiosos fresh ingredients and they speak the verdad.

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After speaking to a delightful bartender who took my order, I learned that one of the owners along with chef Dan Hong actually travelled to Mexico and the US and spent a few weeks actually doing their homework. Hence, helping them to replicate the flavors and profiles of authentic Mexican cantina food. It’s a simple concept that is executed to perfection and I love that the chef added a little of his Asian flair to the tacos without compromising the integrity too much. The tacos are scrumptious and reasonably priced. They offer a wide variety including a delicious Carne Asada taco that has lemongrass beef (asian twist), a mouth-watering Queso Al Pastor – spit roasted pork with a slightly spicy pineapple salsa, a Camaron – tender pieces of shrimp and finally the Pollo – juicy pieces of chicken with sweet corn salsa. All the tacos are topped with cabbage, coriander, spring onions, salsa verde and pico de gallo.

They

also offer a few other dishes besides tacos, but I was solely focused on the two-bite tortillas stuffed with all sorts of deliciousness. We did get an order of corn chips with guacamole and salsa, but I was muy decepcionado in the chips. They tasted a tad stale and as though they came from a bag instead of being made in-house. But after a few sips of a beautifully balanced margarita, I could have cared less. They get an A+ on their recreation of a fantastic, authentic margarita. It really is simple, but too many bars and restaurants in Sydney just couldn’t create it. (Don’t mean to dob anyone out but using

homemade sweet and sour mix goes along way, amigos!) In addition to the Classic Margarita, they offered a few variations including the Jalapeno Margarita as well as the exotic Loco Rojo Margarita, freshly pressed beetroot and lime juices shaken with Espolon Reposado, pomegranate and grapefruit bitters. Some at our table couldn’t understand the beetroot, but I found it delicious and different. I can’t comment too much on the service, as this is more of a place you order and wait for your food to be delivered. That being said, I did find the people behind the bar very personable and friendly. I highly recommend this cantina to anyone who hasn’t travelled to the other side of the world and often finds themselves wondering what real margaritas and tacos actually taste like. Well my friends, look no further. They say it on their website and it’s true...su casa es tu casa!! Gracias, El Loco for curing my homesick cravings while down under!!

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MUST HAVES:

FOOD: Carne Asada, Queso Al Pastor, and Pollo Tacos as well as Classic Margarita and Loco Rojo Margarita.

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LE KIOSK ($$- $$$)

1 Marine Parade,

Manly, NSW 2095 Australia

+(02) 9977 4122

RATING: Worth A Bang

If I had to make a list of the top three things I despise in life it might read like this:

1) Tuna Noodle Casserole

2) Sarah Palin’s voice

3) Going to the Beach

So naturally you can imagine my excitement when I found out we would be spending the day in the sand, surrounded by screaming children that use the South Pacific Ocean as their own personal toilet. The silver lining to this story is that I was not alone in my misery. My good friend Deb stuck by my side like sand stuck in a fat persons fold of flab. See, Deb and I are both fair-skinned Irish folk so the sun is not out friend. We much prefer a pool to the ocean, a spray tan to direct sun, and a cocktail to …well almost anything, really. Also, whenever I do go to the beach, I live in constant fear that

someone might confuse my body on a beach for that of a whale and try to roll me back in the water. So you can imagine my relief when we discovered an outdoor restaurant steps away from the ocean, that had not only shade, but plenty of booze to boot. It was as if Mel Gibson had heard our prayers.

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While the rest of the gang played Russian Roulette with the sun, Deb and I enjoyed some early afternoon cocktails. All was right in the world. A few Lychee martinis later, (how gay does that drink sound, eshh) and the rest of our party began to trek sand and the foul odor of Coppertone SPF 40 back to our table. As an extra bonus, our friend invited two former co-workers to join us for lunch. Turns out these co-workers took their jobs very seriously and put in some major overtime, earning them each a divorce and joint custody of several children. It was like a modern-day Brady Brunch with Aussie accents. The only disappointment was that I somehow got crammed at the end of the table with all the kids. But nothing another cocktail wouldn’t fix. After we had placed our lunch order, it didn’t take long to realize that our waiter was a disaster. The way in which our food arrived at the table was schizophrenic. Appetizers came with other people’s entrees while children’s meals were placed in front of adults and cocktails haphazardly placed in front of children. It was a total cluster f&#^ and the waiter had no idea what was going on. Thankfully the food was tasty or I would have made a drunken scene like Shia LeBouef. To be honest, as soon as my plate hit the table, I couldn’t be bothered with anyone else’s problems. I was like “The Hoff”, concerned about no one but my greasy cheeseburger and the cold bathroom floor.

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Apparently Miguel started eating food that was placed in front of him while one of the kids at the table never received her meal. There were ten of us eating, and it took a while to notice that one child was actually left behind, with no lunch. Miguel had been eating hers. Eventually she was fed, but I was too engrossed over a perfectly seasoned order of beer battered dory filets with chips to even notice. The fish and chips were beyond delicious as was the pomme puree with truffle butter that someone ordered for the table. Between the vodka, pomme puree and the chips on the table, I feared we would start another potato famine. But it didn’t stop me from sticking my spoon into that creamy potato deliciousness placed before me. All in all, this is one of the few restaurants near Shelly Beach and the food and drinks are worthy of a visit, if you can get past the horrific service as well as the fat, hairy men sporting banana hammocks on the

beach several feet away. If you consider yourself more of a shallow human being and could care less about the quality or taste of food, I’d first wonder what the hell you were doing reading this blog and then I’d simply point you in the direction of Bondi Beach, where all the pretty people sunbathe and workout. But be warned, the food is generic and over priced and the scene at Bondi is like Nadya Suleman womb, overpopulated but fun to gawk at.

MUST HAVE:

FOOD: Beer battered dory fillets, Creamed pomme puree with truffle butter.

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Sandy Martin is probably best known for her role as the quad-biking, coccyx breaking grandma in the 2004 breakout indy flick, Napoleon Dynamite. Sandy has been working steadily as an actress for over four decades. She was a company member of the historic improv/comedy troupe Second City as well as a founding company member for two renowned NYC theatre companies; the WPA THEATRE and the PERRY STREET THEATRE. She’s been crazy active on television having guest starred on such shows as Nip/Tuck, It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia, Shameless and as the recurring cross-dressing Selma Green on the HBO series Big Love. Films include Marley and Me, Speed, Erin Brockovich and Barfly. She has a resume as long as Lindsay Lohan rap sheet and in addition to performing, Sandy has written, directed and produced several projects for television and stage. For more information on this fantastic powerhouse of a woman, click here. Sandy was kind enough to indulge me on questions pertaining to the world of dining for this weeks Celebrities “dish”.

Best Meal you’ve ever had?

King Crab.

Which playwright do you think would be the first “in the weeds” if forced to wait tables at Denny’s on Easter: Tennessee Williams or Israel Horovitz?

Tennessee Williams.

Worst service you’ve ever had?

In a restaurant in the old East Berlin. THE WAITER ALL HUDDLED IN THE CORNER AND REFUSED TO WAIT ON US!

Which is more profitable: producing theatre in LA or waiting tables at the El Torito in Sherman Oaks?

Producing theatre in LA is great for the waist line!

Biggest pet peeve by a waiter when dining out is:

Getting a nasty ass who might hock a loogie in your grilled cheese if you ask for one more thing.

Best tip you can give to a server?

Be a fun bunny and you’ll get my 25%.

Favorite waiter/waitress from TV or Film? 

Sir John Gielgud in Arthur.

via actoroscar.com

Which would you rather: raise a pet Llama, vote for Pedro or invest in a second

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Rex Kwan Do Dojo?

Raise little Tina’s.

Which city has better restaurants NYC or Los Angeles?

????? Hard call.

Favorite Restaurant?

They are closed now but I LOVED Osteria Nanni in Atwater Village – Soooooo bummed.

Secret Guilty pleasure: Olive Garden, Denny’s or TGIFridays ?

Denny’s for heart-attack-on-a-plate.

Dine, Serve, 86.

Having played Selma, a cross dressing Mormon in HBO’s Big Love, I thought we’d stay with that theme. Of the following well-known Mormons, who would you rather: Dine With, Be Served By, or just “86″?

Glenn Beck, Mitt Romney, Warren Jeffs

I’d dine with Warren Jeffs so he could give me tips on how build a bigger family.

I’d like to be served by Mitt Romney so I could skip out on the bill. And just “86″ Glenn…you come within 30 feet of me and I’ll blow you away – no questions asked.

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Penrith Gaels Cultural and Sporting Club ($$)

Corner Glebe Place & Phillip Street

Kingswood NSW 2747

+ (61) 2 4722 8180

Rating: Let’s Be Friends

I don’t want to brag…well actually I do. Recently something remarkable happened to me. I officially became a member of the Penirth Gaels club. That’s right folks, little old me was finally chosen to be a part of a club.

What do you have to say about that, Lisa Pfieffer? I no longer need to beg and plead to be a part of your stupid, shitty PB Jellies Secret Treehouse Society. You can kiss having someone to do all your dirty work goodbye. I will no longer toilet paper old man Zulewski’s front yard or steal money from my mom’s wallet anymore just so you can piss it away on Pacific Cooler Capri Suns or Sweet Valley High books, because I made it to the big time. This is a REAL club with alcohol… and slot machines…and adults…and cigerettes. I don’t have to play butler to your imaginary tea parties any longer. So there!!

So how did this all come to fruition? Well it just so happens that I have a connection to the club. I know the General Managers daughter. Jealous? I know I would be. After spending the afternoon hiking in the Blue Mountains (about an hour outside of Sydney) we decided to stop off in Kingswood to meet our good friend Deb’s parents. The way the rest of the evening played out was like we had stumbled upon the Irish version of Brigadoon and it was pure magic. We arrived to the club a little after 7pm and we were greeted by the man of the hour, Mr. Tom Gallagher himself. Tom is hands down one of the most charismatic men I’ve ever had the privilege of meeting. With an enormous smile, a fine Irish brough and a personality that would give the energizer bunny a run for his money, Tom makes the social club feel like home. From the moment we walked in the door, Tom’s incredible energy and pride was almost contagious. He immediately grabbed Miguel and I and offered to give us a tour. The club is massive with room after room of different activities going on simultaneously.

One room held an enormous Texas Hold’em Po-Po-Po-Pokerface tournament, while another housed a stage for live music. There was a room for playing slot machines, a room for off track betting, along with a bar, restaurant and even a smoking room. (Which I don’t endorse, but nicotine fools got to do what they got to do, I suppose.) They also have social dances, Trivia Nights, Raffle Nights and even a casual ethno-linguistic night where people get together and learn how to converse in Gaelic, a language perhaps as useful in the world as Pig Latin. Sadly I will be skipping that night as I learned how to say my name in Gaelic long ago…It’s Bri-en Oh-doon-uh-vahn.

The club even offers a courtesy bus for any member that lives within a 5 mile radius. A fantastic bonus if you’ve

pissed yourself silly on whiskey or don’t feel like driving. If you ever opt for this service, pay special attention to the Danny Kaye impersonator prominently featured on the back side of the shuttle bus. It’s none other than the man of the hour, Mr. Gallagher, himself.

Tom alongside other members of the club literally raised money and put hours upon countless hours of blood, sweat and tears to build this Irish Social Club from the ground up. (And you don’t even have to be Irish to become a member, but it doesn’t hurt.) An impressive fête with an amazing end result. After a behind the scenes tour, we joined Deb, her beautiful mother Margaret, and adorable little sister Aoibhinn, (whose name I would easily lose out to if competing in a spelling bee and unless your Irish don’t ask how to pronounce it-just trust it’s a beautiful name) for a few pints and some good ol’ fashion comfort food.

After a few hard ciders, I was craving the Chicken Schnitzel, a thinly pounded breaded breast of chicken with sautéed veggies on the side. Deb also conned me into sharing some Dublin Fries, french fries with melted cheese and bacon. Even now I can feel my heart clogging and my body say thanks for that you fat ass! The food was great, even if my arteries were hardening, but it was the service that made the whole evening one of my favorite nights while in Sydney. The laughs and Irish lilt that spilled out from our amazing booth overlooking the main dining room was enough to make you believe that there just might be a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. And no one understood that better than Deb’s mom, Margaret. The night was hilarious watching the many ways that Margaret would excuse herself to go to the “restroom”, and by restroom I mean gaming room. She was like a modern-day Bugsy Malone with her fine attention to the world of slot machines. And I have to give her mad props because in a matter of seconds she was able to turn $10 into $50 with only a few clicks of her thumb. Well done, Mrs. Gallagher!! So if you ever find yourself hanging in the burbs outside of Sydney, do yourself a favor and pop by Penrith Gaels Cultural and Sporting Club and tell Tom that Bryan and Miguel sent you. You won’t be disappointed. And if you really want to impress him, quote a line from Seinfeld or tell him you love The Lone Ranger. It might just guarantee you a free shot of Jameson! Finally, our membership is close to expiring, so if anyone cares to sponsor us and pay our renewal fees down under, that would be greatly appreciated.

via fanpop

MUST HAVES:

FOOD: Chicken Schnitzel, Dublin Fries

SERVER: Tom Gallagher (Although he really runs the place, just seek him out to say hi. I promise you will be well taken care of.)