May was a month of celebratory feasting in my family. The weekend after the one where we ventured past paddocks of horses (I want a pony!) and sheep (I don’t want sheep!) to Lark Hill Winery, and before the one where I swooned over my birthday dinner at Sage, my grandparents, parents and I sashayed into the Hyatt Hotel Canberra to toast my Grandpa’s birthday over an extravagant buffet lunch.
(If I was still a university tutor, I’d take marks off myself for the shoddily-written nature of that introductory paragraph. But hah! I’m not! So I can instead give myself a High Distinction, because this is my blog and I make the rules! Now pass me my tiara.)
The Hyatt’s buffet lunches appeal to my family for the freshness of the food on offer and because We With Allergies can create safe meals for ourselves without having to ask waiters seven thousand questions. I was impressed to see that the Hyatt now uses dairy-free, gluten-free, and egg-free labels for its dishes. There was even a dairy-free and gluten-free chocolate cake on offer; woot woot! (If only I liked chocolate cake.)
My plan of attack at the Hyatt has long been to focus on seafood, cheese, vegetables, and dessert. This time round, the mussels, crab, prawns, and smoked salmon were all enjoyable, but my heart fell hardest for the plethora of pickles on offer. Oh! Pickles!
The dessert table offered several types of chocolate cake, tiramisu, fruit salad (some blighter had rummaged through and pinched all the fresh figs before I got there; I hope karma hit him/her back later by switching his/her coffee for decaf), several types of fruit coulis, mousse, raspberry and lychee jelly, and pistachio pannacotta.
I made a beeline for the pistachio pannacotta because if Italy taught me anything, it’s that fireworks in the daytime aren’t very impressive. Wait, no, that’s not it. I mean Italy taught me to worship at the altar of pistachio desserts.
Unfortunately, this pannacotta tasted nothing like pistachio. To add insult to injury, it was also niether smooth nor wobbly as a pannacotta should be, but instead was solid enough to have hurt the passing waiter had I thrown it at his head.
I didn’t, for the record.
What I did do was enjoy the raspberry and lychee jelly, which had a beautifully true fruit flavour. Dad and I then continued our debate about whether the meringue centerpieces on the main buffet table were edible or not. He was skeptical, I was cautiously optimistic, and the waiter (the same one I didn’t throw pannacotta at) gave us the go ahead.
Happy birthday Grandpa! Love you!
Question Time: Are you a fun of buffets?