Considering we don't have too many Saturdays left before we open our doors, we thought we'd make the most of it and try a few new places to eat and drink. We also thought it would be a great opportunity to scout for suppliers—and make new friends.
First stop, Eveleigh Market. (Actually, that's a lie. First stop was Steamtank Coffee in Hornsby to pick up our morning coffee and a pre-breakfast of Mitch's buttery croissants.) Parking was a bit of a nightmare, but after happening across a (limited parking) spot in the next suburb, we took it.
The produce on offer looked delicious, with lots of activity around the stalls. If it's hard to decide what you want to buy, you know you've come to the right place! Feeling excited and enthused, we approached two local fruit and veg stalls, hoping to have a chat with the farmers about supplying The Brooklyn Tuckshop.
Call it inexperience—or naivety, but I expected more than '...you'll complain to us that we're too expensive' or '...we turn away 10 to 15 wholesale customers per week, so consider yourself lucky'. It made me feel sad. Not because of the fact that we were turned down, but the way it was done; I felt like we were being put down to make themselves appear important. Why not simply thank the person for their interest, and then politely decline?
But I'm cool with it. Because now I know who we don't want to do business with, and we've potentially saved ourselves tears, disappointment and money. Sucks to your ass-mar.
Mind you, all wasn't lost. We met Jessica from A Taste of Alpaca, an alpaca meat farmer from the Southern Highlands. I tried one of her samples (round steak, grilled medium rare) and promptly salivated. She supplies meat on the bone (such as shanks and osso bucco) which would work beautifully slow roasted in our toasties. I'm very much looking forward to speaking with Jessica soon.
We also met some lovely farmers from Kemps Creek Farms. While their wholesale offering doesn't suit our needs, their teeny tiny tomatoes were out of this world. Guess what we're having for dinner?
And now we're tucked away at home on a Saturday night, poring over commercial fridges and ovens. Living life on THE EDGE, I tell you.
I won't say I'm not going to miss our careless Saturdays, because I will. And I won't say I'm worried about waking up early, as I've plenty of experience rising at 04:37 in my past swimming life. But I will say that our Saturdays will be a brand new—albeit tiring—adventure.