Fifi and Ally, revisited.

What a cliche, three women on their way to watch Sex in the City stop off for some lunch. And where do they go? Fifi and Ally, of course.

This time we went to the Princes Square location and I have to say although it was Sunday lunch-time they seemed to have pulled their socks up, kind of. We were seated quick enough and the rustic platter had some of the best pesto we have ever tasted. The chicken Cesar was not as good as before (the chicken being a bit dry and the dressing not as eggy or parmesaney as before) but was felt to have the edge on the crayfish salad which we also shared.



Thankfully the meringues were served with fresh berries, not the compote that was served in the Wellington St location, although they were so fresh they seemed not to have been washed. The cream was plentiful and the good stuff. Again, the service was somewhat lackadaisical. So much so that we felt obliged not to leave a tip, something that does not sit well with the conscience but had to be done.