I emerged refreshed from conversation with a young lady this morning, thrilled at realizing that the first instance had been the flavour of our meeting over pastries and coffee


The almond croissants at La Banette are blanketed by a doona of friand-like texture. It’s well thought out qualities presented serious competition to my insightful, intelligent company. Paris perfect, pillowy-soft layers of pastry sleep beneath the exterior and I was pleased to discover that their delicate, Frenchy, almond sensibility snuggled up happily to the subcontinental warmth of my chai latte.


Arrange a meeting with the kind of person that makes you forget it’s raining.

Drink tea out of small Chinese cups. The small amount of liquid they contain means that the entire cup can be consumed at the moment of optimum drinking temperature, leaving none to become distatefully tepid before one is ready to drink again.

Listen to something different. Being forced to stay indoors is good to open up the receptors to fresh music.

Listen to old music. Work backwards from 1980.

Any thing you eat should be either left-overs or eggs.

A syndrome experienced by the home baker when the finished shape of the goods produced does not allow for testing prior to offering at family functions. Syndrome is exacerbated by first-time attempts at recipes as well as by the presence of senior home bakers at family functions.

Today I was handed I tuna patty in the Woollahra Deli by a lovely, shy young lady with a charmingly disheveled chignon and sad, bashful eyes. Their expression was only exaggerated by very large, very bookish tortoishell glasses. The overall effect was that she seemed almost ashamed to be handing me something so delicious.

The patty itself combined such characteristics that one seeks for so keenly in a winter meal. No summer adventures in freshness and newness here, not pretty food, just golden, solid, cylindrical and appearing to promise happy fullness. A homely tuna filling with soft, unctuous, cheesy characteristics and the tiniest kick of chilli was contained in a crisply crumbed and fried shell. The patty was the kind of food that is a joy to a cavernous, warmth craving hole of a winter stomach.

There comes a point where the application of cosmetics is no longer a process of making ‘up’.

A terrible fright of a face on the bus this morning had demonstrated the other side, where applying cosmetics becomes a process of making ‘down’. The poor woman had daubed herself over in a lumpy, uneven fashion, much like the coating of a Krispy Kreme. I’m sure it’s partly due to the makeup itself, but it seemed like part of her glazed expression could have had something to do with the tiring process of having to apply that much product to one’s visage first thing in the morning.




Some photos I took of our place. It has that very ‘newlywed’ look at the moment, needs a bit more time and a bit more stuff in it.