Wednesday, May 17, 2006

Crimes Against Food: #1 EGGS

Hey! That guy's poaching those chicken's eggs!

Now don’t get me wrong I’m not against eggs as a whole. JUST THE MASSACRING OF EGGS – breakfast style – AT VARIOUS CAFES.

I enjoy slipping down to various breakfast joints and drinking coffee and eating, well, eggs. Personally I prefer them poached, although I’ve been known to do scrambled – in a magical way.

Generally I have had good luck with my egg pads, but I have been known to stumble across the odd place that still is able to fuck shit up. Hot tip: go here for somewhere that couldn't fuck shit up if it tried.

The problem area for many appears to lay with the yolk, the delicious creamy bit with all the fatty, cholesteroliness in it, i.e. the bit that you don't really want to make taste like a mushy, tastless, paste. In fact, it’s only deliciously creamy when THE YOLK IS NOT COOKED ‘TIL IT’S ROCK FUCKING HARD.

Why does this still happen? It’s a matter of timing and surely that is an essential element in the Chefing industry. Surely it's not hard to find a chef that is able to put eggs into hot water and take them out when the middles are still oozey?! Perhaps I'm asking too much.

Even I, a mere cook, am able to recognise the importance of the poached egg timing. I shall share with you all my secret. EGGS IN TOAST DOWN. That’s it. Once the toast is done so are your eggs. I imagine if I tried to explain to you the chemistry behind the denaturation of the protein in the albumen, thus resulting in a congelled irreversible process, you’d glaze over a little and quite frankly, I wouldn’t blame you. But I don’t need to do that because all you need to know is: EGGS IN TOAST DOWN DAMMIT!

Go forth in pursuit of eggsalence.


Sunday, April 02, 2006

New Digs

Since I moved to Melbourne in 2000 I’ve mostly spent all my time in Richmond. I knew that stich of town like the back of my hand. I knew where to get the best breakfast and coffee. I knew where to get the best take-away. I knew where to drink and was part of the local barfly crew.

I’ve recently moved to Northcote.

I’m a little lost. Can you help me out? I’m just off High St. and I’m not quite au fait with the local gems.

Can you throw a few delights my way?

So far this is what I’ve covered:

NSC for good bar swell and some good ol’ fasion ‘rock’.
Wesley Anne – Pretty good food. Bad wine list. Good for a Sunday session.
Sigiri – Sri Lankan food is good.
Meine Leibe Pizza – haven’t been, but I hear it’s great. Who doesn’t love a this based pizza.
Wild Yak – good for some steamed buns and this wacky fungi added to their dishes. I like.

Perhaps you’ll notice A LACK OF COFFEE PLACES. Locals, I need some help here! I know where some of you live. Surely there’s a joint ‘round these parts that can brew a strong cup-a-Joe.

I’m also open to other insights round these parts. Let’s face it I love some grub.

Friday, March 10, 2006

It's so hip not to blog since November

Well hi!

i've been in the depths of controlled internet and no home computer. NOT ANYMORE! I just updated me some technology.

... So you might just catch me round these parts again. x

Tuesday, November 29, 2005

Loco pro-MO-tion


Better get on board quick with the sponsoring internerds! This mo’s hangin’ on by a whisker. Only 2 more days until Movember officially mo-ssies off into the sunset!

Check all details here


Tuesday, November 15, 2005

Excuse me, Waiter

Dear Waiter at my Favourite Café,

I’ve been going to this café on a regular basis for the last 5+ years. I take pleasure in being there. During my years at University I liked to just come in with a book and hang around sipping my 'sophistimicated' latte, or wonder down with friends to read the paper and gossip. These days I work far away from the café and I don’t get to go as often. However, I do try and get there most weekends to sip and eat and enjoy. I don't want to presume myself "Royalty" here... but, if the shoe fits?

You ruined the simple pleasure of enjoying my Cafe time on Sunday. And now I don’t like you.

On Sunday I went to meet a friend for a late breakfast. Sarah, is one of my oldest chums and we’ve been going to the café together before you thought anything ending in “chino” started with the word “baby”.

The first thing you did to light the fire of rage in my belly was to kick me off my table. Now, it’s ok that I was put in my place for jumping the que and I'm sorry the people waiting thought I was a rude bastard. it’s NOT ok for you to tell me that I need to wait outside and to NOT OFFER the next available table.

Then, waiting by myself, you had the audacity to condescendingly ask if it would just be me eating.
“No, there’s two of us. My friend is on her way,” I replied, getting a little pissy.
“Right… Do you know how long she’ll be?”
“Ahh, no.”
I wondered how the time it would take her to get here was relevant? I was there – surely that meant my friend joining me for a breakfast was probably on her way. And if I had been there by myself would you have insisted I go elsewhere? I'd like to see you try, Cuntox!

Sarah arrives and instead of offering coffee you ask, “so are you just having coffee, or are you eating?” This, I’m sure, could have been considered a fair question, if you had have made it sound like you we’re going to set our table for a breakfast. Unfortunately you said it in a tone that sounded as if we were pissing you off by wanting a table. I am starting to dislike you more.

We ask another waiter for Sarah’s coffee, because you forgot to take the order.

Sarah and I watch a group of 3 go into the café. YOU SIT THEM DOWN AT A TABLE. YOU GIVE THEM A MENU. THEY ARE HAPPY. I AM COLD. I am moving on from dislike to loathing.

You offer us a seat at the counter. “Oh, like the counter where you’re in the way to the kitchen? We’ll wait for a table thanks.” *fumes*

Finally, praise the lord, a table! You insist on awkwardly carrying our coffee’s inside. You can’t open the door, or clear the table. We do both. You walk off without giving us a menu. Now, Sarah and I know the menu back to front, but part of the pleasure of going to our Favourite Café is to stare longingly over the menu, so we need one.

The nice tattooed girl gives us the menu and 10 minutes later takes our order. We are feeling better because you seem to have put us in someone else’s section and we don’t have to speak to you again.

A tap on the shoulder. I think that it must be the slightly crazy woman who owns the café telling me that there’s no Haloumi on the menu. No, it’s you again. You whisper in my ear. “You’re being a plumber.” You give me a wink because your little brain is assuming you’ve done me a favour.

I check my 'rear-end', my undies are peeping over my jeans! Big fucking deal! I’m not like that tiny teeny bopper in the corner who’s pants are half way down her crack! Did ya say somethin’ to her Fuckface?! No?! NO?! Well, just so it’s clear let me wipe that smile off your greasy face…



I will be back to my Favourite Café, because we’ve been through a lot together and you make a killer breakfast and an oh-so-creamy coffee. But, my little Nimrod Waiter, never speak to me again, for I cannot control what may happen if you try.



Tuesday, November 08, 2005

Give, that they may Mo*

Would ya look at this mo? Is it not the most thick and lustrous 8 day Mo you’ve ever seen? Don’t you want to just… I don’t know… THROW MONEY AT IT?! Yes?! And for a good cause? Yes? YES! Great, because now is the time to throw money at Hotman’s Mo! Let me tell you how…

As a socially conscious citizen/champion facial hair grower/all round do gooder, my handsome man (aka Hotman – he’s innocent!) is growing a Mo in aid of Movember. It’s all about growing a Mo for a month, to raise awareness and funds for prostate cancer. He can do the growing part, as he is masculine and rugged, but he needs your help in the funds department.

All donations can be made via the Movember website using Hotmans rego number: 2323. Apparently any donation over $30 gets you free entry into the Movember party. Ladies, I’m sure I do not need to tell you of the prickly pleasures that may be discovered on that particular evening!

Go on. It'll be a mo-ment you remember for the rest of your mo-ther fucking life!

*this is most definitely a poor form of advertising for Hotman and the whole Movember shtick. Whatever. It’s for a good cause… and it is already shaping out to be a healthy facial follicle fancier, so deal.

Tuesday, October 25, 2005

Things you've always wanted to know, but have been too afraid to ask

Apparently I’m next on the blog tag for “Top 20”. I have secretly been lurking in the depths of the blogosphere for this chance, but you’d never know because I’m sly like a fox in making everyone think that the blog world is dead to me.

1. My working environment is not contusive for writing on my beloved blog anymore.

2. On the odd occasion that I do post, I get a bit of a buzz.

3. When I was young I was in to climbing tree’s, squishing spiders, riding motorbikes and playing on the monkey bars.

4. When I was 7 I broke my arm by jumping of a semi-truck trailer. I was with my aunty at the time and my mother didn’t know that I’d broken my arm until I was brought home with a plaster cast. Mum’s never really forgiven my aunt for that.

5. The first album I ever bought with my own money was Mariah Carey (Musicbox). Not long after I bought it I gave it to my dad.

6. If you ever ask my what the first album I ever bought was I’ll tell you Green Day (Dookie), because I’m genuinely embarrassed about the Mariah thing.

7. At high school my two best subjects were History and English, my worst Chemistry and Maths. I now have a Science Degree with a Chemistry/Food base.

8. I really love food. Cooking it, ordering it, eating it.

9. I love Hotman more than food.

10. If I find a stray eyelash I still make wishes on them. I just did one then. I’m not telling you what it is because it won’t come true.

11. I’m going to the Spring Racing Carnival 3 times this year. I think it’s overdoing it – it’s not really my thing.

12. I want to go to NYC and Ireland. Soon.

13. When I was in year 8 I was bullied by one of my classmates and she made all the girls in my class stop speaking to me for 6 months. The reason she gave for the bulling was that “I was being annoying”. Every now and then I worry that I’m annoying and that people won’t like me.

14. When I was 16 I lived in Denmark. I drank a lot of beer and gained a lot of confidence. By the time I returned to Australia I was having beer drinking competitions with boys older than me and winning.

15. I can’t drink as heavily as I used to.

16. I’d like to wear more jewellery, but I can’t be bothered.

17. I don’t believe in horoscopes or star signs, but I read them with great thought and consider myself a typical stubborn Taurean.

18. I have no time for fools.

19. I live beyond my means, but ultimately I’m having fun.

20. I’ve often thought of becoming a hand model.

So, have we all learnt something here?

Geez, I’m so far out of the blog world I don’t know who to tag… how ‘bout Husky Nutmeg and Booky (because he's a busy bastard too)