Tasting: Delirium Tremens in Australia

Delirium tremens "(Lain for "shaking frenzy", also referred to as The DTs, "the horrors", or "the shakes.") is an acute episode of delirium that is usually caused by withdrawal from alcohol, first described in 1813"


delirium_tremens_labelThe Petit Snail in Byron Bay claims to be "a very affordable breath of France in Byron Bay." Traditionally, French air sells for much more- but The Petite Snail will give you all the atmosphere of a Parisian bistro without the air flight ticket.

Yours truly sucked in the price tag of $12.50 AUD per bottle of Delirium Tremens (the beer not the shakes) to taste Europe because yours truly has massive lungs for beer. Yes, the complimentary chamgpane was nice and the escargo in hand made ceramic snail shell replicas was to die for but death and charm are nothing compared to a chest full of addiction. There might have been a pink elephant and purple weasel dancing in the my partner's eyes that Valentine's day dinner because we both eat, drank and made merry like AA victims back on the bottle. Delirium tremens, the disease, had sunk into our souls before this night without us having known it. Like a slow moving mental illness we had forgot what good food and great beer was like.

[caption id="attachment_1001" align="alignleft" width="487"]The French Man check out the menu in the out door lounge area The French Man check out the menu in the out door lounge area[/caption]

Rubbing our bellies and mopping up any extra drops of sauce from out plates with a magically refilling basket of bread, The French man and I were able to turn our attention to our hosts. The people running The Petite Snail are to the air of the restaurant like the alps are to Evian. 100% French in manner, style, sound and soul. Our waiter was absent mindedly on que, the host as a boisterous with thieving eyes and the cook- oh the owner and cook, master of the restaurant! He was large, round, white haired and white aproned, which a large nose and a prediliction for honesty. The sweet mad chatted with us and shared apple brandy to the point where he had to be reminded by his wife to return to the kitchen and finish with the desserts. He seemed in this own world at times but earthy and true- these far off stares could have been due to his admitted drug use. Which was nice for us, because we always carry something to smoke when attending fine dining establishments. Instant friends! Although our host had a taste for things stronger then we recreation with, we were able to show our thanks for the French air by polluting that of the smokers in the lounge. It was all very welcomed and cozy.

[caption id="attachment_923" align="alignnone" width="908"]298208_10150834504295062_1562333321_n This picture from The Petite Snail's Facebook is 100% what I imagine the chef doing while in the back[/caption]

The end of beautiful nights like this always come too soon and before I knew it we were talking away with beer bottles in hand to discover that lovers do in the dark of night in cities that they don't live in. The French man refused to let me see the bill, which was for the best because my dry cleaning tab after the dinner was large enough to make me ugh. The only amount of air yours truly must have inhaled was when there were (all together too often) moments that I missed my mouth. Bills not withstanding, it was an exhilarating event that delivered exact what it promised (minus the "very affordable" part).