It's a simple one this week. Inspired by the incessant buzzing and droning the bay side suburbs from Port Melbourne to St Kilda endure during the Melbourne Grand Prix, I give you - The Aussie Mozzie. Down a few dozen of these the night before and I (almost) guarantee you will sleep through those early morning practice laps. And whilst the recipe might seem to hark back to early drinking experiences, mixing anything together from your parent's liquor cabinet, it is actually quite refreshing.

One of my favorite places to hang out in is Mr Tulk Café located in Melbourne's State Library building. Head down on Friday nights - Happy Fish Hour (5.30-6.30pm) featuring $2 pots and $5 wines!

Mr Tulk is open from 7am to 5pm Monday to Thursday, 7am to 9pm Friday, 9am to 4pm Saturday and is located on La Trobe Street, near the corner of Swanston Street, Melbourne.

I know, I know, you martini drinkers all get your knickers in a knot over the perceived ‘bastardisation' of the classic, the perfect, the ultimate martini. Well I'm here to blaspheme and tell you I don't like the traditional martini. Don't get me wrong, I have nothing against you or your choice of tipple but I Just. Don't. Get. It! I know some of you will take this as personal insult and I'm sorry, but I've tried and tried and cannot make myself like them. So I'm going to muddy the waters and feature the Dirty Martini and prepare myself so some stern words from traditionalists.

Another day, another outing to breakfast and another example of the myriad of ways tea drinkers are discriminated against in coffee-centric Melbourne.  I get it.  You guys love your coffee.  It’s an art form.  Baristas are rock stars and lattes rock operas.  But please, cafés of Melbourne, remember your tea drinkers!

I don’t want a tiny, cold espresso cup from which to drink my tea.  I would like to at least be able to put my forefinger through the cup hook even if I do refrain from raising my pinky in the air.  One sip should provide a mouthful of warm, sweet perfectly brewed tea with several mouthfuls left to saver. I do not want to clang my teeth on miles of thick, cold china in a cup so small it barely holds a thimble full of weak tea.

There is nothing I like more in a cocktail than simplicity and tang - the Aviation has both. Dating back to the early thirties this cocktail's origins are often disputed and it is surrounded with mysterious tales of fields of violets, Howard Hughes and the world's obsession with flying. Whatever, I just love this drink. The dash of sweetness that is the maraschino compliments the fresh lemon juice. Crème de Violette is the authentic way to make this cocktail and if I'm at a bar that both has and includes this liqueur I am delighted. However, at home and in bars not so well stocked I'm happy to go without as I like both variations. So it's up to you, do you prefer with or without? And does it make a difference?

Calling all Japanophiles, Melbourne's latest bar offering Nihonshu is fabulous. The little sister to renowned restaurant Izakaya Chuji, Nihonshu won't disappoint. Set up in the adjoining building, Nihonshu offers an impressive range of Japanese drinks including shochu (Japanese vodka) which is distilled using ingredients such as tomato, basil and sweet potato. The bar boasts 34 types of saki, a good selection of Japanese beer, dangerously sweet plum wine and a supersonic Japanese hand dryer in the bathroom.

City lunch hunting can be a traumatic experience. Simply navigating through the swarms of people in search of food can require an almost saint like patience (of which I have none) and an agile people/random obstacle dodging ability (also lacking). On arrival even the sourcing of food can also prove a trying experience. From the endless supply of dodgy focaccia's, to the over priced, the sold out dish you desperately wanted, to the worst of all - no tables. Not to say there isn't anywhere good to go - there are plenty. It's just a matter of finding them.

As naughty, delicious and sexy as it sounds the French 77 is a marvelous retro cocktail to be enjoyed, well, anytime. Perfect with a baguette breakfast in Paris when trying to stave off jet lag.