This blog is usually focused on positive wine, food and travel experiences. We love to recommend tastes that readers will love.
Unfortunately options are limited on a Monday night in sleepy off-season Hobart.
Instead of walking a few extra metres to reliably good Maldini, I instead opted for another Italian joint in the Salamanca precinct - closer to my hotel for the evening.
There were some warning signs: a cavernous, almost empty dining room with ultra loud music and only a handful of patrons. A wine list put together by one wholesaler; often a sign of a lazy restaurateur.
The service was of the “you right mate” genre but friendly and efficient.
How wrong could I go wifh a fettucine carbonara, some garlic bread and a glass of Chianti?
Pretty wrong, it turned out. The best thing about the meal was the complimentary carafe of tap water.
The wine tasted as if it had been opened a week or two ago; the garlic bread was lamentably lacklustre and the pasta was like a poor, undercooked version of one of those Continental packet meals.
I’d wager that no one in the kitchen has been anywhere nearer to Italy than Glenorchy
I was looking for cheap and cheerful but ended up with cheap and dreadful.
No need to be a Mensa scholar to know this is a place to avoid.
Italians would laugh at a canteen this poor.
Are you going to name names?
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