On Saturday, girl met her other girls for lunch.

It was a date long overdue and rather than the usual café-type meal, we opted for a feast of Middle Eastern delicacies at Sahara Turkish Restaurant in Burwood.

Seated at one of their sunny outdoor tables we took our time examining their fascinating menu. Searching the entrées and mains we found ourselves wondering what to choose - how does one make a decision when each option is as equally foreign, different, exciting and risky as the other?

Furthermore, the fact that each of us was in the mood for something different , didn't make the decision process any easier - how does one find advice when your close ones can't even imagine your current state of taste buds?

Naturally - there was more than just Middle Eastern cuisine on our minds. It seemed as though all of us were going through defining moments in our lives, moments where we were making life-changing decisions. Between the four of us, we were all in the process of/questioning/deciding/thinking about buying a house, moving house, having a child, quitting a job, leaving the country, rejoicing in new love, ending old love…with all these types of thoughts it was no wonder that we were having trouble deciding what to eat!

Finally we selected on a mixed entrée platter to share, and for me, minced lamb grilled in skewers with a delicious side of spiced tomatoes and freshly made Turkish pide bread. It was an incredible meal.

We lavishly ate from the large entrée platter - feeling like princesses being served at a royal feast. The dips, felafel, vine leaves and pide bread were so good we had to beg our waiter to take them away from us so that we could leave room for our mains. My lamb was so juicy, tender and tasty that it almost distracted me entirely from eating the rest of the gang's food (one must taste a bit of everything after all).

The service was extremely obliging - although our waiter was busy managing the popular take-away area (which I must say displayed a tantalising array of meals) as well as the restaurant (it's a shame we were only there for lunch because they supposedly have live belly dancers at nights) - he at all times was eager to accommodate our needs and wishes.

After what seemed like hours of eating we put down out forks and admitted defeat - there was just too much food and regardless of how good it all was, none of us could fit another bite in. Settling instead for our choice of Turkish coffee, wine or water, we carried on with our conversation about life and choices.

But the conversation drifted and more often than not, we found ourselves falling into our old favourite topics of boys we liked (albeit those boys tended to not be some exotic stranger but our husbands or partners), girls we didn't like, clothes, weekend plans, books we were reading, the current colour of our hair and how much exercise we should and of course would be doing (especially after that meal).

In a way, life is kind of like a Turkish feast - you won't always know what to pick from a menu, you won't always be as adventurous as you would like, you won't always like what you do order and, and even if you do end up loving what you or someone else on the table ordered - there's just no guarantee that you will be able to finish it all.

But I guess that - along with the trivial gossip and good friends - is what makes the meal taste so good. And a good meal is always remembered.