This was us back in 2006:

Noa, Claire, Tarn and I. This photo was taken at the end of our final year of high school at the Valedictory Dinner. I want to say that we were fresh faced 18-year-olds, naive and ready to face the big wide world ahead but the reality is we had all spent the year partying very hard and probably would have benefited from some early nights and rest ahead of our exams.

We were the worst kind of teenagers. The kind that ‘went for a sleep over’ or a ‘study session’ and most hilariously ‘a book launch’ but really stayed out until the wee hours in nightclubs all over the city thanks to our fake IDs. Such frequent flyers were we that some clubs would send a car (either a Rolls Royce or hilariously vintage limousine, always with a bottle of champagne) to collect us.

We never waited in lines and rarely paid for drinks. My memories of this time mostly involve popping corks off the balconies of inner city apartments and not giving a thought to work the next day (as a waitress at the Melbourne Cricket Club) or to school on Monday.

It was like one long episode of Gossip Girl.

But of course those days ran out and we are now successful functioning adults with jobs. We still talk fondly of the days where we would sneak out two or three times a week.

This weekend just gone the four of us got together for the first time in about 2 years. I flew in from WA and Noa from Europe and we joined Tarn and Claire at Gazi.

We kicked off proceedings with a few rounds of espresso martinis.

I’m glad I photographed all the food because I honestly didn’t even notice what I was eating, too distracted was I, by being in the presence of these three gems again.

Hommus and beetroot, oregano and feta dip:

Deep fried calamari:

Saganaki with honey, sesame and lemon, and charred pumpkin, goats curd and chestnuts:

Cauliflower, pea, almond and lemon salad:

Souvlakis; soft shell crab, mint, coriander, honey and mayonnaise on the left and beef brisket, chips, parsley, onion, pear and mustard mayo on the right:

We ate, laugh, drank, talked absolute smack and two hours passed in about 10 minutes.

George Calombaris, who owns the restaurant and is a judge on MasterChef, came out of the kitchen and swanned around for a bit, having his photo taken with people.

We were encouraged by the waiter, who was presumably bored (?), to do the whole ‘pretend it’s someone’s birthday’ thing. Tarn was the winner.

On our way out we stopped in the bathrooms and couldn’t resist taking a selfie in the headache-inducing pink light. If they were trying to get the ladies in and out in hurry, they succeeded. Even the photos make my eyes pulse.

After Gazi we went on an unintended bar crawl that included Go Go Bar, Loop and culminated at the Toff.

I left the girls at the Toff far too early thanks to my red eye flight fatigue and big plans for Dad’s 60th the next night. I’m sure my 17-18 year old self would be horrified.