“Let’s move to Launceston.” And we did. Bruce has lived around Hobart all his life, Jess for about 12 years, but the way Hobart was heading we were both looking for a seachange. Cheaper houses, less traffic, a change of scene we were fast realising we needed. This was just as the pandemic was warming up. Somehow, we managed the transition while most of the population was in a mild state of confusion and before house prices went completely nuts. We were upped and shipped to our new House on the West Tamar while others were still wrestling over toilet paper. “Wonder what the food’s like,” we thought. If you falsely presume that small cities and towns go through a similar cultural evolutionary process, then the natural conclusion would have been “probably just like Hobart’s was 10 years ago”. How wrong one can be. We’d acquired a taste for good food during a pre-pandemic decade-long side hustle as amateur travel hackers. We’ve dined at Le Bernardin in New York, Azurmendi in Bilbao, Pierre Hermé in Paris, and 42 Degrees in Barcelona. We’ve spent months trawling the streets of Tokyo and San Sebastián looking for the best sushi and pintxos, and once flew to New York because we fancied a Nathan’s hotdog. And you know what? Some of the food we’ve had right here in Launceston would’t look out of place on the fine-dining world stage. Just so you know, none of the restaurants we visited in writing this blog knew we were going to write them up. Also, the blog is far from complete, but we're working on that. You’ll notice gaps because we tend to avoid the big-ticket venues where tourists gravitate to, particularly those where the staff need a name tag. |