MoVida
There’s something awfully naughtily gluttonous about eating tapas at MoVida. I’m a Sydneysider and this Spanish hot spot had long been on my Melbourne restaurant hit list. During a recent work trip I tore out of my hotel to get there early enough to score a seat before the hungry after-workers streamed in. I asked for a stool at the bar and was literally wedged into a corner. I didn’t complain. I didn’t care. I had my pew. And a ring-side view of the action.


