Past Samantha and Future Samantha share a somewhat turbulent relationship, charactarised largely by Past Samantha’s inability to to embrace time management skills, so often leaving future Samantha in all manners of frenzy the day before assignments are due. However, once in a while, Past Samantha projects her intentions forward, and does something truly selfless, to surprise future Samantha. Yesterday was the sort of day, where I wanted to leap back in time and squeeze my former self with gratitude. For last summer, plagued with worry and faced with the daunting prospect of too much ripe summer fruit, I threw a giant punnet of strawberries into the freezer, reassuring myself of Future Samantha’s undying gratitude upon the discovery of fresh berries amongst the dreary winter bounty of pears and mandarins. Yesterday was that glorious day. That cold Autumn day where the price of strawberries had soared like it was nobodies business, and I discovered that present to myself, a big icy bag of blushing red berries. In scones, as in life, fresh berries are of course preferred, but for the sake of economy and seasonal eating, those previously thawed at room temperature will suffice. These scones are the epitome of girl food. Pink, floral, sweet, a little tart. They are the sort of thing to bake when you want your make your boyfriend recoil, and leave you in peace to read books. And indulge in absurd amounts of cream without fear of judgement.
Read More

Stomping Ground Cereal

May 17, 2013

Australia, Breakfast, Musings, Places, Recipes

17 Comments

It is a great puzzle to me, how those awkward early teen days are filled for the youths of cities. What do you do? Where do you run to when you decide not to go to school, to stretch out a curfew, to kiss a boy, to run, to gossip, to hide, and to be seen? Because for us, it was all about the beach. It was the center of our world, a third world, not quite home but not quite public – the best and worst of both, even. The beach stole our youth, or more so we poured ourselves into it, willingly. Persistently salty, we lapped about in the thick swelling freshness of the ocean, floating out further and further so that our ears burst before we could even touch the bottom, and we could swim naked, undisturbed. Afternoons were spent propelling ourselves through the turquoise lit rock caves beneath the waters surface and stretching our long brown bodies over smooth rocks, oiling ourselves liberally, and beckoning the sun to caramelize our skin. And those silly little beach parties, those boxed-wine fueled nights of awkward fumbling and sandy legs, the boys with the blondest of hair monopolizing our thoughts. Looking back, it all seems so devastatingly poetic; there were the mountains, the train lines, those wild, ragged awe-inducing cliffs that served as a backdrop for the shenanigans of youth. This is a breakfast as mischievous as the untamed years that inspired it. If that cereal was class captain, then this cereal is the daydreamer, sitting in the principals office for arriving at school late and covered in sand.

To Market {The Grounds}

May 15, 2013

Australia, Places, Sydney

14 Comments

The Grounds of Alexandria, you are the popular boy of Sydney’s cafe scene. That charismatic blue eyed, dark haired captain of the football team who doesn’t even know we exist. Though we remain wildly optimistic that one day you will love us back, with the same fierceness we hold for you. We follow you like a puppy, doing all within our power to run into you, waiting hours for a spot of attention, knowing it will all be worthwhile. We bask in your ambiance, we flirt with your menu, our visits charactarised by our shameless instagramming and involuntary sighing at your beauty. We come for breakfast because we know that your eggs were laid by chickens with first names and plenty of room to play in, we come for lunch because we couldn’t make zucchini ribbons that perfect if we tried, and we dream of being invited to a wedding here so that we can come for dinner too. So it’s no surprise that your mothers day markets were subliminal, all that raw macadamia nut honey, rose petal lemonade, sticky lamingtons, thick smokey chorizo wedged into crusty rolls, and the flowers – everywhere, anywhere – luscious bunches spilling from all directions, suspended in jars fro m ceilings, peeping out from pots wrapped in brown paper, asserting themselves vertically from wooden garden beds. Those dreamy piles of strawberries, those perfect bails of straw, those creamy jars of milkshakes. The Grounds of Alexandria, you will always be the dream.

The World’s Best Chocolate Brownie

May 14, 2013

Recipes, Sweet Things

33 Comments

Oh! The frivolity of such a claim, the scandal of it all! Amongst all those tried and true favourites – apple pie, chocolate cake, vanilla ice-cream, Bolognaise sauce, chocolate chip cookies – a quick Google search will yield dozens of results each claiming to be the best ever of said commodity.

Then why, oh why do we keep searching? Perhaps, I assume, because everybody is wrong. For all the widely agreed notions of what constitutes a proper brownie (ludicrous density, crackled top, unbearable richness, substantial chew factor, fudgy texture, lingering chocolatey aftertaste, moist crumb) the poorly executed brownie remains ubiquitous in all its crumbly, cakey, watered down hell.

To the seasoned brownie eater, it is a truth universally acknowledged that the mark of a quality brownie is it’s lack of dependency on a topping, icing – frosting, if you will. Things that require frosting as a lubrication device fall firmly into the cake category; characterized by their tendency to be springy to the touch with a dry, aerated crumb. These attributes are no friend to the brownie. Upon discovery of such an imposter you should run, or at least walk briskly, as far away as possible without looking back, for what you have found is no brownie, but rather a cake with the audacity to masquerade as its more hedonistic cousin. The occasional exception to this rule is the rich, fudgy brownie that seeks an additional layer frosting as a further declaration of gluttony. If you partake in such a morsel I feel it safe to assume you are American, and to warn the rest of the world that such an act undermines the integrity of the brownie altogether. Stay away. A light dusting of cocoa or icing sugar is sufficient. A good dollop of thick cream or a well endowed scoop of vanilla ice-cream makes for an appropriate accompaniment. This does not fall under the category of a ‘topping’, however, and remains merely a serving suggestion.

Nuts, chocolate chips and the likes are another point of controversy. To include them or not? Such additives can by all means enhance ones experience of the brownie, though it is imperative that they are not used to divert the mind from an inferior vehicle – the brownie itself must be accomplished enough to stand on its own. No amount of chopped walnuts or white chocolate chunks will disguise a lackluster base. But what about the others? White chocolate is always a dependable choice, though the beauty of the brownie lies in its potential for adaptation.

So for me, here is the one; thick, chewy to the bite, decadently rich with that fabled crackly top that we all dream of. I’ve found my worlds best brownie, hopefully it will be the one for you too.

Little Ricotta, Almond + Orange Blossom Cakes {Gluten Free}

May 12, 2013

Recipes, Sweet Things

24 Comments

To the wheat enthusiast, baked goods sporting a ‘gluten free’ badge so often give way to illusions of compromise, in both taste and texture. I myself have made the catastrophic mistake of assuming that a gluten-free wrap is something that does not taste of sand, only to find myself confused and plagued with regret for the rest of the afternoon. Wasted lunchtime opportunities will do this to you. Though I’ve put that incident behind me and wholeheartedly look forward to situations sans wheat that don’t end in tears. So fear not, baguette loving friends, for these little morsels are one such exception to the “gluten-free cake tastes of chalk” rule. The trick is not to try and emulate conventional sweets and to just enter a league of your own altogether. A focus on the decadent and flavorful as opposed to the light and airy yields excellent results. As rich and dense as a small cake can be, this is indeed not a recipe for the fainthearted. It is a good one; floral, sweet and zesty, though it is also one in which I cannot take much credit for, only tampering slightly with the flavors and serving sizes. If it all seems a bit tedious feel free to abandon all inclinations of individual servings and just make one large cake.

Salt, Meats, Cheese

May 9, 2013

Australia, Places, Sydney

22 Comments

One of the most exciting prospects of adulthood is the fact that one day you get to have your very own pantry. I suspect that mine will be quite large, and that a great deal of my time and energy will be invested in its upkeep. I want a big room, somewhat akin to a library – with one of those ladders that have wheels that I can scoot along my shelves with. My pantry-fantasies may be to blame as to why I fell so hard for Salt, Meats,Cheese. For stepping into this warehouse is somewhat akin to rummaging through the pantry of a good friend. A good friend, that is, with excellent taste. Sadly, unlike the pantry of a good friend, you are expected to pay for your findings. Though don’t let that deter you, as meandering through these white wooden shelves with a basket slung over your forearm is one luxurious way to spend an afternoon. All the good bits here are made from hand – glass jars of thick dulce de leche, marshmallow-esque balls of fresh mozzarella, tangy marinated olives, fresh pasta. This whole place is devoted to life’s simple pleasures, get heavily involved and give yourself a good hour here. Shop like a hedonist ought to. Float slowly between the slabs Himalayan pink salt, packages of candy-striped pasta and violet candies. Flirt a little with the truffle pecorino or the sweet amaretti cookies or the rosewater soda or shiny gold tins of duck fat. If this is being a grown up, I’m down. Read More

Spiced Eggplant Schnitzel with Persian Feta + Pomegranate

May 8, 2013

Recipes, Savoury Things

21 Comments

Oh, Iran, how my days are filled pining incessantly over your flavors. A few years of tertiary political studies have steered me quite consciously from using the word exotic, but deep down this all seems to be just that, all that pistachio and orange blossom and saffron and rosewater and pomegranate and cardamom. All that imagery of mountains and willows and cups of mint tea in intricate glasses. How romantic. This isn’t a Persian dish as far as I know, though the feta is, which is really a key player in this one. This combination of eggplant and pomegranate and feta has had me mesmerized for a while now, popping up all over the place (here and here and here) And for both a lack of imagination and a fridge full of said ingredients, I decided to hop on the train myself, fusing it a little with my adopted Italian aunts method of crumbing her eggplant. The whole affair is somewhat reminiscent of that Persian roast lamb a few weeks back. It’s a rather decadent way to eat vegetables, all crispy and smoky and smothered in feta, with little bursts of sweet juice here and there, brightened with lemon and fresh herbs.

—le pirate

delicious fare and faraway places

Strawberry, Rosewater + Buttermilk Scones