I've made a booking (under protest) for the first meeting of Dinah's Club. A club for those who like to eat out in the many yummy haunts of Melbourne, and then crap on about it later.
Call me a commitment phobe, but I don't like to make bookings. My eating patterns should be determined by how loud my stomach is grumbling, not restaurant owners.
But if it comes down to being forced to guess what time I'm going to want to eat dinner a week before I'm going to eat it, or not getting to eat it.... it's no contest.
And last time we tried to ''wing it'' at Philhellene we were rejected. The spontaneity might be disappearing from the Melbourne food scene, but it sure still smells good. Stay tuned to find out how it tastes.
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