Peter Calder returns to the city that introduced him to decent food.

Lygon St was my first taste of Melbourne. Arriving in the city at the end of the 1970s, I was enchanted by the street of Greek, Italian and Lebanese eateries where the air was dense with the smell of grilled meat and garlic.

One of Georgie Pie's founding fathers says his contribution to the reheated fast-food favourite has been left in the back of a pie-warmer.

Its bistro is no more, but this inner-city hot spot still delivers on taste.

We came here because we wanted to check out a cafe outside our Mt Albert safe-zone.

Behind a modest exterior lies a cornucopia of flavours from the Middle East.

I should never have suggested my three mates meet me at the pub. My idea of a quick beer soon degenerated into several rounds and by the time we arrived at Da Vinci's the mood was somewhat more boisterous than it ought to be.

Bistro warmth combines with good, basic fare to cheer up a winter’s night.

Some people ain’t too bovvered by examples of bad grammar. But others, the self-appointed “grammar police”, are quick to frown upon the use of faulty punctuation.

My mother drank sherry and her twin drank gin. Although this may sound like a line from an old music-hall song, there is a point to it.

When dining is this good, it's like a dream. One from which I simply don't want to wake up.

French chef Nic Poelaert will cook for one night at The Farm at Cape Kidnappers.

When my daughter was about two there were seventeen foods she would eat – including apples, bananas, blueberries, bread, carrots, cheerio sausages, cheese, eggs, fresh squeezed orange juice, fish fingers, hummus, milk, spaghetti and Weetbix.

New Zealand chef Peter Gordon's dine restaurant in Auckland shuts this week so the area can be gutted and the SkyCity Grand Hotel's new hotel lobby bar can be relocated there.

Silver service? Who the hell does silver service these days? I doubt that one waitress in 100 would know what it is.

It's been quite a project. First they lifted it, then they shifted it, and it was slid back into place and lovingly restored to its former glory, and then some.

One Sunday in the April school holidays we had an early dinner at the Rose & Shamrock Village Inn in Havelock North. It’s an unpretentious, bustling, faux English/Irish pub that’s a great place for family dining.

It doesn't look much of a kitchen: the bench is barely a metre long and the chef has just enough space to swing a Sabatier.

A Mexico fan has been hassling me to go for so long that I've taken to scooting around corners when I see her coming. Now it's been 18 months and there are branches in Takapuna and Hamilton.

Danielle Wright finds Wellington alive with art events, food and popular culture this winter.

I didn't know this was here, to be honest. Usually, when I come out of Kingsland station, I tend to turn left out of habit, since that is where the bars and restaurants mostly are, but someone suggested we meet here and so we did.

Here are a couple of experiences I never thought I’d embrace — a boeuf bourguignon served at a Japanese restaurant and a macrobiotic dessert. They were delivered at Janken and I enjoyed both.

We came here because we'd been meaning to for ages, having noted its pretty steady popularity with the locals.

As one door closes, another opens. A truism for our dynamic dining scene, that's for sure.

After reading the responses to The Art of the Ultimate Sandwichin which people shared their favourite sandwich fillings, I decided that someone's sandwich preference can reveal a lot about their personality type.