The Thousands

Sometimes I like to get drunk. Even on Mondays. So when Facebook told me it was ‘vegetarian night’ at new bar-come-eatery 399, I drained my longneck and set forth.

There’s no set cocktail list at 399, which I like. A real bar should be able to make every fu*!ing drink, right? Right. As a Ted Danson type impromptus my first martini, we are given a mulled wine taster. It warms my soul. The pine bar we sit at forms the spine of the place and is offset by tall booths. The décor would be best described as ‘schmick’. Vegas-era Elvis croons on a widescreen sans sound. I can neither confirm nor deny the existence of a rear courtyard.

The chef pre-prepares the meals during the day. It’s ‘honest’ fare and comes with Artie Bucco service. A mind-blowing chutney is the highlight of the tapas plate and the mushroom ragout/potato-bake ain’t half bad. We wash it all down with a Snakecharmer Shiraz that owes much to its pretty label.

Recollections from this point are hazy, but I had accomplished my mission. And it wasn’t even Tuesday.