The new South Australia is not only about economic development, but it will also be cultural and lifestyle.
From the Sydney Morning Herald
City of lunches
October 14, 2007
Belinda Jackson worships at the altar of gourmet cooking in Adelaide.
SLICK cafes have sprung up like mushrooms in the warm spring sun, moody new bars where you can crack the cork on the next big thing are de rigueur and late-night restaurants mean sating your gourmet tooth at midnight is easier than grabbing a post-nightclub greasy lamb monster. Where? Adelaide. Yes, Adelaide.
Those in the eastern states (as they refer to anyone past the NSW border) still haven't cottoned on, but Adelaide's central business district, friends, is finally hip.
Gouger Street, which includes Adelaide's answer to Chinatown, is the hottest strip in town. But forget dodgy beef-and-black-bean mess; now, the only place on the strip for Chinese is the sparkling new, up-market Concubine.
Book for a late lunch - say 1.30pm - and snaffle a table in the window so you can watch the comings and goings of the busy strip. Call for the wine list and the whole barramundi, the Barossa organic chook and the buttery bok choy, then kick back as the sun pours through the plate glass.
Upstairs, the Shanghai Room has sweet little silk-covered stools perched around lacquered tables - perfect for late night tete-a-tetes.
What would one do in a bar named after a notorious, gun-toting cocaine drug lord? Um, drink a McLaren Vale shiraz? The surprising number of shiny ledges and tables in Escobar are a curious design addition by Melbourne designers Blackmilk, but the mysterious booths cloaked in sheer curtains and the not-so-private private rooms, separated by glass from the hoi polloi, tickle the snoot bone.
Who doesn't want to feel like a VIP every now and again? Mind you, the bar prices match, as Escobar pitches at the over-30s crowd - but if you've a lazy $180, rack up a bottle of the Bordeaux and beg chef Hugo to knock up some of his sensational truffle roti - sounds like a cultural custard, but trust us, it'll have you sobbing like a five-year-old when it's gone.
In fact, go the whole hog and grab a share plate of the black spice lamb, Argentinean tea-smoked duck and ceviche - raw, diced ocean trout on a tomato jelly.
Further down Gouger Street, Mesa Lunga is all antler chandeliers and Moorish tiling around a dark timber bar that was packed out when we visited on a dark, rainy Thursday evening.
Along the long, low shared table, punters picked at plates of tapas from the specials board or the standard menu, which includes prawns and a fabulously oily chorizo, or slithers of raw Bambi - aka the venison carpaccio - and sturdy mains include a spaghetti scoglio with half an ocean's seafood floating in swirling pasta.