There was a lot of interest in the lasagne at the pub tonight.

On most Wednesday nights. it’s not uncommon for members of our regular group to choose a steak or a schnitzel or a pizza or the fish and chips or even nachos. But tonight, I went outside the norm and chose the lasagne. “I can’t wait to see what it’s like” was the common refrain around the table.

Ideally I would have actually chosen soup (if they served it) as it’s been a reasonably chilly day in Sydney, and as I’m feeling little hayfeverish at the moment (I’ve been sneezing quite a bit today). As a “comfort food” lasagne seemed like the next best thing.

And boy was it good. You know how pasta (especially lasagne) always tastes better the day after, when all of the juices and flavours have “inseminated” (that’s not the right word, but you know what I mean) themselves into the pasta itself? Well that’s just the “home made lasagne” (as it what was advertised) tasted like. Rich. Flavoursome.

Pub food can be good, bad, indifferent and sometimes excellent. Let me tell you, Lewisham Hotel Lasagne is excellent!

And quite a mouthful, as I found myself almost bloated from having consumed the meal.

Or maybe that was the beers? No, I didn’t drink much because of this stupid hayfever I have right now. Sneeze. Sneeze. Sneeze.

The other big upset for the night? When we arrived someone was sitting in our regular seats. “I feel like Goldilocks and the three bears” I told the barman who, in turn, mentioned a common practice in some parts of the world for “regulars tables”.

Still it was a fun night at the pub, especially as my friend who is going to be in Stockholm as I am, chatted about plans, the weather, and all kinds of things.

He still can’t get into the idea of turning up at the Bjorn Borg store wearing only underwear to claim some free underwear. I’ll wear him down eventually… :)