Can we be Matilda Prestons?

On the fifth consecutive day of going out to dinner in a new previously unvisited restaurant, our minds wandered to Matt Preston. 

Here we were, just having dinner.  A dinner that normally would have sent tingles and excitement through our veins.  Yet we were tired.  Our palates were exhausted, our ability to describe and dissect totally failing us.  Staff recommendations had to be repeated, menus double checked, food stared at for a bit before the realisation that we were eating it hit.

How does he do it, we wondered.  How can he keep his palate and senses sharp on a full time basis, and still muster enough energy to write about it afterwards?!  Does he not get tired of all this eating out in strange environments, of sitting in tight chairs and claustrophobic bars (this is Melbourne we are talking about), of searching for hidden doors and walking up (and down) narrow stairways, of having to deconstruct all the food before him to decipher the reasons for their successes/failures, to scrutinise the service and customers to work out whether people were enjoying themselves?  How does he do it?!

We are very far away from being Matildas Preston, I am afraid.  Our palates are as yet amateurish, our sights narrow, our endurance short.  We admit, we are good at the taste sprint, but alas we still have far to go before we can go for the Melbourne marathon, let alone interstate and international spectrums.

Cheers to Matt and all those food writers, the ones who review restaurants for a living, the ones who try to make life just a bit easier for gourmets and gourmands.

*clink*

"hmm, I don't know about you but I like this.  Just the right amount of lemon sorbet to vodka to prosecco blended with a touch of cream.  Oooh, and the sugar-coated lemon slice really intensifies the alcoholic sweetness.  This layered chocolate mousse cake is lovely isn't it?  Looks great, the layers of chocolates are distinct, and so fluffy..."