...Somewhere in Kingsland...
Residents of the Kamona were shouted to a 'night on the town' after several months of under-budget supermarket shopping, despite "treats," such as chips, biscuits and ice-cream, being added to the weekly shopping list.
On hearing about well-priced, metre-long pizzas made downtown at a place called Toto's, we booked a table for six.
A framed certificate on the wall bearing, "Auckland's best Italian restaurant, 2010," had us thanking our lucky stars for budget management as we entered the dining area.
Promptly seated with napkins spread over our laps by the head waiter, we were presented with a choice of sparkling, still or tap water.
However a quick flick of the menu confirmed our fears - perhaps we were in the wrong place.
"Ah, do you do metre-long pizzas here?" asked Paul, leaseholder.
"That is downstairs," our waiter replied.
After some conferring, our coats were retrieved from the vestiaire and we were led down several flights of stairs and presented to a deflated-looking Italian man drawing heavily on a cigarette.
His brief exchange with the head waiter was sharp, but we got a table - this time with paper napkins, plastic cups and a ginger beer for Ellen retrieved after five minutes from down a dark hallway.
A metre-long pizza later, along with a standard pizza, tiramisu and sorbet, we were still thanking our lucky stars for budget management.
The reggae soundtrack was not half bad either.
Also celebrated was Chris's birthday and the fact that he is still alive after 31 years, as talk turned to the various pipe-bombs and bits of plastic he has been responsible for burning and blowing up in the last decade.
"We had a good night," commented Tineke, " and perhaps we can do a flat karaoke night for my birthday [in three weeks]."
On hearing about well-priced, metre-long pizzas made downtown at a place called Toto's, we booked a table for six.
A framed certificate on the wall bearing, "Auckland's best Italian restaurant, 2010," had us thanking our lucky stars for budget management as we entered the dining area.
Promptly seated with napkins spread over our laps by the head waiter, we were presented with a choice of sparkling, still or tap water.
However a quick flick of the menu confirmed our fears - perhaps we were in the wrong place.
"Ah, do you do metre-long pizzas here?" asked Paul, leaseholder.
"That is downstairs," our waiter replied.
After some conferring, our coats were retrieved from the vestiaire and we were led down several flights of stairs and presented to a deflated-looking Italian man drawing heavily on a cigarette.
His brief exchange with the head waiter was sharp, but we got a table - this time with paper napkins, plastic cups and a ginger beer for Ellen retrieved after five minutes from down a dark hallway.
A metre-long pizza later, along with a standard pizza, tiramisu and sorbet, we were still thanking our lucky stars for budget management.
The reggae soundtrack was not half bad either.
Also celebrated was Chris's birthday and the fact that he is still alive after 31 years, as talk turned to the various pipe-bombs and bits of plastic he has been responsible for burning and blowing up in the last decade.
"We had a good night," commented Tineke, " and perhaps we can do a flat karaoke night for my birthday [in three weeks]."
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| Family portrait |
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| "This is more like us!" |
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| In a happy place. |
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| Samurai pizza cats. |
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| Happy Birfday Chwis. |
