How to deal with Noma FOMO

So everyone’s talking about René Redzepi and his ‘seal fuckers’* coming to Sydney. Ja, NOMA’s popping up at Barangaroo so this summer you can sample just what the great Dane makes of Australia’s wild food. I’m Warragil green with envy reading Jill Dupleix’s account of a road trip with René and his mates, hooning about the country trying magpie geese and emu eggs and quandong and all the rest. I’m pretty sure I won’t have the dosh to fork out four or five hundred bucks for dinner, and even if I did, I’m not sure I would. Ah me, the trials of being a wannabe food nerd. Sometimes you cop the foam, sometimes you cop the FOMO.



Given the budget won’t stretch this far, I’ve invested in a $5 punnet of native limes which I was delighted to find this week in the fancier grocery in Coogee. I hadn’t come across them for a couple of seasons, and I’d forgotten how beautiful they are. I love their rust coloured skins and even more, the kooky inside, packed with little citric jewels. In an effort to make something that truly celebrates Australian ingredients I’ve squeezed those wee darlings into a generous tumbler and whipped up a G and T with my own home made gin. (OK, so I haven’t got a still. I make the gin with a bottle of vodka and add my own botanicals including lemon myrtle, so it’s really Australian, orright?) I’m here to report that this is a damn fine arrangement, and it’s taking the edge of that FOMO very well indeed.

*No really, that’s what some mean short-sighted critics called the Noma team back in the day before they won best-restaurant-in-the-whole-jolly-world. In the great tradition, Redzepi has claimed the insult for himself and now he wears it with a defiant pride. Good one, I say.

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