"The one weekend where we ate and ate and ate and ate (some more)..."

Being in such a culturally-diverse city such as Melbourne, sampling the very best of life's sinful delicacies comes as the second easiest thing next to actually experiencing the whole Aussie lifestyle. Being that we're in the same boat, you'd guessed I meant the many desserts available here, but I don't blame you if you have other naughty thoughts otherwise.

Ever since I arrived here, I've been bombarded with many pleasant commentaries about Melbourne's finest gelatto ever - the now almost legendary Ferrero Rocher ice-cream. These stories buds through to describe such decadent tales, that it gives your tastebuds the most wonderful feeling ever sensed; a slice of heaven if it may, as you savour each spoonful of its rich creamy goodness. Forgive me as I pick my tongue up and wipe my saliva off the keyboard, and let me continue narrating how I'd come to actually experiencing Melbourne's finest ice-cream in the next few paragraphs.

Actually I've been putting off this entry for a while now, in the agony that I'll be needing another dose of the gellato after the end of this post, but who am I to deny my (hopefully) many avid readers a review of one of life's most succulent desserts?

Call it wishful thinking, if you may.

It wasn't the usual climatic condition you'd expect on an autumn's Saturday - a tad on the warm side and being less breezy (note: you'd actually be able to retain what's left of any hairstyle you had on than usual after each pass). Voila! Perfect weather to bask in the weekend sun, and let worry free in the air. Figuring that Jimin's mom and sis were also in town, we thought no less and opted for another outing into the city. This time, thanks to Yusry, we had a set of wheels to get us there. Mahathir and I had earlier scoured the corridors and corners of Bundoora's Brand Junction in search of the ever elusive golden sneakers we had our eyes on a week ago, but as afternoon breaked we later joined Fendi and Yusry for a rendezvous with Omar at Melbourne city's Lygon St.

Having been here a good three months, this had only been my second visit to Lygon. Blame it on the incessant desire of not being very adventuorous on my part, but this part of the city is very famously known for it's rich Italian influence. A long stretch of road, flanked by blocks and blocks of (if not entirely) Italian cafes and restaurants. It's Italia's Chinatown of Melbourne, if I may say so myself. At every corner of each block, lies a number of classy designer outlets. I say classy because their names escapes enuncuation of my greatly Malay-influenced tongue and not to mention price tags that make my pockets look like those things I'd study on the nano-scale. Lygon St. may look to be well suited for the city's upper and middle-class repertoire, but according to those who frequent its establishments (culprits: Fendi, Yusry and Omar) this place lights up in the night to throngs of the metropolitan, metrosexual community that are young Melbourn-ers. At least that's what they tell me and what I'd able to picture when I first came to know the place.

Anways, in manners to digress - we were famished so naturally the idea was to have lunch before we go for gellato. Savouring the best to finish with the rest wasn't so much a good idea when it comes to food. Always save the best, for last. Therefore, Fendi had suggested another restaurant that is favoured by Malaysians here - Lazzat on Lygon. It's halal, local and most importantly Malaysian so that was a nice option for grub. Sadly, I inclined for the fried kuey-teow but instead thought it resembled more like something Maggi would've come up with. Perhaps it was just this batch I had and probably it tastes much better on other days. Mahathir's beriyani was nice, so it may as well be a matter of lady luck being on your side when it comes to picking something on the menu. Conversations among the clan passed for a good hour, before we decided it's time to go into the candy store.

Conveniently, the gellato store was just adjacent to Lazzat. Il Dolce Freddo. Not to be confused with El Passo Taco, Dolce Gabbana and Pasta Alfredo; as those are totally different things on their own.

As we stepped in, we were taken on the wings of angels up to heaven. The selection of ice-creams flavors may not challenge Baskins', but what they fall in number, they'd make up in quality. There were still many flavors under the sun, from your usual strawberry (which I think mom will like very much) to the more adventurous durian flavor. Mind you, the durian tastes awesome by the way. Of course, it beats the purpose of coming all the way and not actually trying out the famous Ferrero Rocher flavor for myself - so I had two scoops of that along with another flavor, which now escapes my memory. Wow, I really don't remember. I thought I would (by now), but I still don't. That's how insignificant the flavor became, when having it next with the Ferrero Rocher flavor.

You know what they'd say - the proof of the pudding is in its tasting. In this case, a piece of heaven is sampled in spoons of this sinfully delicious gellato. After a few gulps, I even had a feeling that it was so so sedap, that it may even qualify as an opiate in its own. Imagine, conferring withdrawal symptoms over a dessert. It's THAT good. Forget Haagen-Daaz. Baskin Rob-who? It's more of like Baskin Poppins next to this. Believe me, if you're in Melbourne - this is one dessert you HAVE to have. Or you'll be missing life's most wonderful pleasures. I'm sure this fascination is just a phase, though. I do have a knack of over-exagerating things. But regardless, the Ferrero Rocher ice-cream is by far the best gellato I've ever had in my life so far.

After that decadent experience at Il Docce Freddo, we paid a brief visit to Victoria Market to get Milla some churro's and then we walked the streets of Melbourne. I won't bother you with the details so I'll let these pictures tell the tale;

(Kudos to Yusry whom kindly provided for all the pictures)

That night, we had the best Mi Sup Singapore ever at Antz Cafe near Tram Stop 41. Owned by a Singaporean, you'd almost feel a bit of home when the cafe's ambient soundtrack boasts those of Spring, Spoon and other 80-90s bands with that slow-rock-kapak vibe. Boy, I swear at one point it feels as if you're in some warung in Wisma Pekelliling or Medan Mara.

Had a nice dinner with the gang, and we all made for home; only for another dose of Jimin's mom's famous nasi lemak. Macam mana la nak kurus cam gini. After a good session of seamless conversations and chatting, everyone parted ways for the night at around 11pm. That's probably equivalent of 3am in Malaysia, being that we're in Autumn.

The next day, we sent Jimin's mom and sis off the airport and said our goodbyes for a week well spent. She's been a cool housemate, and was kind enough to provide for my meals during her stay. Wonderful and kind person, and I'm sure Jimin is a lucky son to have such a dedicated and warm mom.

I guess that's what is called maternal inclinations. Probably that's why we always never fail to have a soft spot for our moms - it is with them that we feel 'home' is.

-JeP

P/S : It's the last straw for chemoboy tomorrow! Dose 12; it's unbelievable to think that after all these times he's at the end of his treatment. Hopefully this last one would be more pleasant than the previous one; with mom around now to care to his needs. Regardless, we pray that everything shall go well and he recovers as soon as possible.