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| - I met the first Vegan who I can respect, and talk to like a normal human being. He has an Queensland accent, and presides over this restaurant of shocking meticulous and strict standards. Didn't get his name though..
I came here for an intimate evening with a group of people so outside of my 'category' that it would have equated to hyenas on the Serengeti sitting down for a coffee with a couple of impalas. Although, I'd always imagine myself being a mandrill if I were ever a African game.....okay, whatever, what I'm trying to say is that this place is a vegan restaurant...
Rawlicious is housed in a historical building on Main Street. When I say historical building I mean that I had to close the door behind me upon entry as it didn't close itself. A lovely intimate space with seating for approximately forty patrons with a kitchen sized to cater to no more than that number. Raw food? You know, I was just joking about the whole Serengeti thing.
This was a learning experience for me, and what I learned was that zucchini could be diced as an alternative to traditional dough noodles. Nuts and other mysterious ingredients can be manipulated to taste like--and in this case better than--meat.
I have always imagined a vegan lifestyle as a constant compromise, but Rawlicious proved it is not always necessarily so. But so it is often as described by the Aussie gentleman. At least sometimes.
Nothing is what it seems. I had little idea what I was putting into my mouth, all I knew was each bite registered positively with my palate. I love vegetables, and despite coming from a Country of limitless culinary possibilities, I was not expecting the level of creativity with these so called 'raw organics'. I ordered the bolognese, my neighbours got the burger, pad Thai, and nachos. Everything was very sophisticated. Somehow my soil based appetizer in the shape of sushi tasted like sushi. The satisfaction of the ocean taste without the mercury or Japanese radiation. This was no alternative restaurant, this was the adopted lifestyle of some very 'proud to be' experimenting with food with a level of competence so rarely exemplified in this specific culture. The man who ran the place offered insightful information towards this obvious passion of his. He could have my talked ears off if not for the interest I had for his words. Same goes for me as I vainly went on and on about myself throughout the night. Thank goodness I am also very interesting.
As with all meals where I am given the opportunity to express myself, I found myself defending my perspicacity of politics and history. This could have been avoided if only Rawlicious was licensed to serve wine. In this case, instead of a well constructed debate, the conversation went all over the place, which is just as well because I might as well be talking as if I were drunk. There was no blood with my meal, and that is the factor to which I place blame upon for my surmised conjecture.
Liquor license expected in March!
I have a dream, where hyena mandrills like myself, and impalas can dine in civility for maybe a couple of days out of the year. Let the predator within me be impartial to the dietary preferences of those of whom I share this land, as long as they are willing to consider the benefits of consuming themselves.
One thing is undeniable; the coffee pairs excellently with the pumpkin pie.
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