Patina

Boys Dinner with the MBCC last night and we headed out for steak.

Steak, as discussed with the Tall Accountant en route, is one of those things that’s  easy to do well (no pun intended), but for precisely that reason, is difficult to excel at. There are lots of very good steak places, but there are very few excellent steak places, because cook it right and it’s about as good as it can get.

Or so we thought.

Patina had been recommended to us by several friends. And all of them said that it was an excellent steak place. The expectations bar had been set high, and we went in ready to be wowed or  disappointed.

It was a wow.

I’ve eaten a lot of steak in my life. Add the other 175+ years (eina) of experience around the table and you have a veritable panel of steak expertise. And yet it was widely agreed that this was the best that any of us have ever tasted.

That’s not to say that previous excellent steak places haven’t also been excellent. Barristers remains a favourite – I’ve never had a bad steak there in my (or more) visits. But this was something else. I enjoyed a 300g fillet with chunky chips (others raved about the risotto) and a blue cheese sauce, A couple of sides of onion rings completed the main course picture and I banged in a stonking Affogato for good measure.

The food was amazing, the wine was great, they have Stella Artois on tap and the service (Wilfred from Malawi – “He’s a Lilongwe from home”) was perfect.

It’s not cheap, mind. And if you’re going to charge those sort of prices, you need to back it up with a very special experience. Patina did that and more. Quite incredible, and now my new go-to steak house.

This was not a paid review. I had a good night and I think you deserve one too. You should go here.

Patina
35 Dean St, Newlands, Cape Town
021 823 9739

That’s not a bad idea

Today’s headlines include (but are not limited to) this:

I’m amazed that no-one has come up with it before.

See also (here) and (here) and (here).

Cricket pics

Suffice to say, while we watched the Women’s T20 get abadoned, my fears for last night’s cricket being a washout were thankfully unfounded.

Newlands was cool, but picture perfect for the evening.

Although this image was a far cry from scenes just a couple of hours earlier.

It was a good night for the kids’ first cricket match, and it was topped off by a last ball win for SA which has obviously set the expectation bar far too high for any future visits to Newlands or any other sporting venue. (It’s worth noting that Alex’s first ever football match finished 7-0.)

Cricket’s very laid back, even when it’s very exciting.
There was plenty of opportunity to take photos. Go look.

Solve a drought

While water restrictions continue to make little or no difference to our water situation (mainly because no-one takes any notice of them), I may have come up with a plan to sort out our water crisis.

Those readers who have stuck with 6000 miles… through thick and thin (mainly thin) may recall that I also came up with a plan to sort the country’s electricity crisis way back in 2008. Yikes.

Sod the Government, the captains of industry and the so-called experts countrywide who all say that there is no quick fix. I think they’re blinkered. If everyone builds their own little power station, we’ll be sorted.
As far as I can remember from my physics lessons at school, all you have to do is make steam (water + heat), turn a turbine and Bob’s your uncle.
For your average Southern Suburber, with a pool (water) and a braai (heat), that’s surely not such a big ask.
Apart from the turbine bit.

That actually worked for a while. Until my wife found out.

There are easier ways to solve the drought. Just let me buy tickets for a cricket match.

I’m not a huge fan of cricket (sidenote to self: huge fan = potential wind shortage solution), but I do like live sport and so I thought I’d make a plan waaaaay in advance of… well… of today, and buy some cricket tickets for the kids and I. Mrs 6000 had other plans for this weekend, so I only needed three. And that was a good thing, because tickets for cricket are not cheap. They’re between 5 and 10 times the price of going and watching a football match.
But then, this is an international cricket match.
But then, they’re more than twice the price of watching an international football match.

I digress. Often.

I bought the expensive tickets, for a cricket match in the middle of February, in the middle of summer, in the middle of a drought.

Can you guess what the weather was like this week in Cape Town? Yep. It was lovely. Temperatures in the mid-thirties. Cloudless skies.
And can you guess what the weather is going to be like in Cape Town next week? Yep. You’re not wrong. Gorgeous. Temperatures in the high twenties. Wall to wall sunshine.

And, dear reader, can you guess what the weather is like in Cape Town today? The day of the expensive cricket match. The first cricket match I’ve ever bought tickets for. The first cricket match my kids have ever been to?

Grey. Wet. Chilly. Miserable.

FML.

On the positive side, it did rain today, meaning that there will be no need for anyone to water their gardens tomorrow (Saturday being one of the days you’re allowed an hour of watering). And that gave me an idea.
If you can donate enough money for me to buy expensive tickets to expensive international cricket matches on a regular basis, I think that we can basically guarantee enough rain to replenish our currently understocked local dams (42% full this week).

You can try this crazy scheme by donating some money to my cause. Just leave me a comment below and I’ll be in touch to give you payment details.

Give it a go. But give it a go soon, remembering that there’s a T20 match between SA and Australia on Wednesday 9th March. Yet another opportunity to sit on a damp grass slope and watch an empty field standing in the rain.

Helpsful advice

We return to the Southern Suburbs Tatler letters page for today’s blog post. And a missive from David Helps (but does he?) of Newlands on a subject close to our hearts here at 6000 miles… – cyclists and cyclism.

Must Cyclists Fall?

begins David and already, I am starting to wince.

During my walk along the tarred path below Newlands fire station , earlier this week, I was just missed by three cyclists overtaking me – in one case, by inches.

how many inches, David? Two inches, or 59 inches? Because this matters, as we find out later in your seemingly otherwise pointless correspondence.

Having cycled myself when younger, I appreciate that wind rush effectively deafens a rider, helmeted or not, making them unaware of events behind them and no self-respecting individual would think of attaching a “bell” to their precious machines.

aaaaaaaand I’m lost… While I too cycled when younger, and while I too appreciate that wind rush effectively deafens a rider, making them unaware of events behind them, what does this have to do with them overtaking you? You’re not behind them, you’re in front of them. And so what if they’re deafened, because number one, they can see you, and number two, you’re not making any noise anyway.
Unless… Unless, that is, I’ve got this situation all wrong, and these are blind cyclists, blind cyclists cycling backwards towards you, and you (helmeted or not) are making a lot of noise that they can’t hear because of wind rush. It seems like a somewhat unbelievable situation, but if I’ve got it right, then you are fully justified in writing to the Southern Suburbs Tatler – and possibly even the UN. Cyclists are a menace. Blind cyclists, deafened by wind rush, cycling backwards towards you is downright dangerous.

And also actually amazing. Forget the local paper and the international authorities, call the bloody circus.

I believe the time is ripe to launch a T-shirt campaign depicting a pedestrian with a line marked 1.5 meters and a cyclist and on the other side, and the words “Do unto others…”
Alternatively, but now too passé, use social media #Cyclistsmustfall.

Yes, yes. Do the T-shirt, but make it a blind, deaf, helmeted (or not) cyclist, cycling backwards.
And make the pedestrian look like a buffoon.
For accuracy.

What do you think?

I think you know what I think, David Helps (no he doesn’t).
I think I’ve made it abundantly clear.

Support me and the royalties are yours.

Royalties? From a T-shirt idea you nicked from some cycling organisation and the “passé” social media hashtag you nicked from some rowdy students? I don’t think there’ll be any royalties. A couple of misplaced copyright lawsuits, sure, but no royalties.

You’ve been no helps at all.