Adriano Zumbo eye candy (again!)

I know Adriano Zumbo in Balmain is so heavily blogged about but I couldn't pass up the chance to use these eye-stunning pictures.

A few weeks ago, Will rang me to ask which food items he should shoot for his last photo lighting class. Without a beat, I knew where he had to go. Adriano Zumbo can always be relied upon for its million-dollar-looking, haute-couture-like patisserie creations.

These pictures are from Will's final lighting class. (PS. Stylist's tip: a cheap sheet of cardboard always makes for a handy backdrop.)



This looks like a space-age helmet and has the potty-mouthed name of Uranuse ($7.75). The crouton-like studs are made of pain d'epices. Locked inside is mandarin mousse, sour cream jelly and other ingredients that sound a lot sweeter than its cheeky sneaky title.



You wouldn't wan't to crush the Escape From a Columbian Rainforest ($8.75) treat with your foot and then throw it into your recycling bin ... Its cola-like resemblance suitably contains a cherry and cola jelly & liquid centre, but the rest is mainly uncarbonated chocolate.



Will's favourite was Ed Rock the Cradle ($7.90), which is meant to look like an upside down baby-rocker. On top is a caramel and a baby bottle sweet but I think these infant allusions went past Will's non-clucky head. He was too busy concentrating on the milk coffee cheesecake and chocolate and coffee mousse, which seemed perfectly engineered for his caffeine junkie self.

PS. We squished in another visit to Adriano Zumbo this weekend and suffered mild shock from seeing the long, snaking queue. They'd run out of the infamously good salted-popcorn macarons, but Will was happy with the rice pudding ones as consolation. (Also, the few macaron crumbs left for sale seemed to prove Tabitha's long-held prediction that macarons would be the new cupcakes. Especially as Black Star Pastry today also had been wiped out of the ganache-filled treats too.)

Adriano Zumbo, 296 Darling St, Balmain, Sydney, NSW (02) 9810 7318, www.adrianozumbo.com

Satellite, Newtown

Over the years, I've kept circling back to Satellite in Newtown.

It was Tabitha who introduced me to this cafe, many menus ago. During my uni days, many sleepy weekends were jumpstarted by the mega pile-up that was Satellite's vego breakfast option. (The mountain of toast and sides was impossible to scale, let alone finish – although a patch of cleared-plate would always appear where the mashed potato was placed; it seemed criminal not to eat all of that airy-soft potato, no matter how full I was.)

Despite the occasional visit though, I've been a bit of a Satellite no-show in the last while – new cafe discoveries had diverted my attention (and appetite) elsewhere.

So in one of those funny life-going-full-circle coincidences, it was Tabitha who convinced me to add Satellite back to my breakfast patrol.



Everytime we were at Vargabar, we would see Tabitha and Nathan pass by, on their way to Satellite. She even left a message on this blog which said:

LTL, you have to veer away from Vargabar one morning to try Satellite, which has changed hands and is better than ever! It has this potato, olive and red onion breakfast, and an incredible omelette with caramelised onion, and delicious baked beans, and soda pops with fresh fruit, and is as cheap as always!

I'm glad she singled out Satellite for re-trying because everything she said is true. The menu includes Lemon and Ginger and Lychee, Raspberry and Boysenberry fruit sodas ($5 each) and Orange Pash Ginger and Apple Lemon Mint fruit whips (also $5 each). Sipping on them make you feel like high school students from a Betty & Veronica comic.



The Pan-fried Potatoes, Olives, Peas, Roast Red Onion, Parsley and Toast ($13.50) are awesome and a welcome breakfast alternative to the overfamiliar eggs-and-toast line-up. Other fresh twists on the usual suspects include Omelette with Semi-Dried Tomato, Marjoram, Confit Garlic, Haloumi, Shallots and Toast ($13.50), Marinated Mushrooms, Braised Leek, with Toast, Spinach and Sage ($14) and Avocado, Tomato and Coriander Salsa, Lemon on Toast ($12.50).

But if you love the comfort of ordering eggs and toast, and getting to bury the plate in sides, then Satellite still caters to that too. Will has had repeat servings of Scrambled Eggs, Smoked Ham, Tomato Relish and Toast ($13), which he likes (despite finding the relish a bit intense and being overwhelmed by the garden-bed of rocket that accompanies the plate) while I've enjoyed bulking out the Avocado, Tomato and Coriander Salsa, Lemon on Toast with the red-wine-stewed House Beans ($3) and the excellent offering of Mushrooms ($4). The latter isn't the typical butter-fried stack of buttons, but a well-braised mix that includes yummy enoki (which rarely makes cameos on breakfast menus – so good on Satellite for jazzing up a conventional side option with this inventive ingredient).



And even though we've ramped up our Satellite visits, there are still quite a few choices I want to try, such as the Spinach, Fetta, Tomato Omelette with Basil Mayonnaise Roll ($7.50). Bonus points to the cafe also for a menu that has good vego options aplenty.

Although sometimes there is a wait for food, the staff are always really onto it and apologetic and reassuring – so you don't feel like you've been forgotten (or victim of some order-shunned conspiracy).

Oh and the space has had a bit of an edgy makeover too – with a street art feel on some of the walls.

And while it's natural to disown some of the things you discovered earlier in your life – because it's now dated or embarrassing or an awkward fit (like outgrown clothing) – it's nice to know that some places actually increase in awesomeness and justify becoming a long-running fixture in your life.

Satellite remixes an old cliche by proving that you can like the new stuff better than the old stuff.

Satellite, Shop 8, 80 Wilson St, Newtown NSW (02) 9557 8698

Confectionery surprises from Japan

I was lucky to recently receive a Japanese care package from Amy who runs the wonderful Pretty Pretty Yum Yum – a sugar-dazed blog full of the colour and hyper-charm of Osaka's food and fashion scene.

She also sweetly asked me to review some Kitkats that she kindly sent through, so if you're choc-curious, you can see what I've said about the Japanese-only Muscat of Alexandria and Uji Matcha varieties of the snack by clicking here.

And if you haven't already, you should spend some time lingering around Amy's great blog. It's delightful and full of surprises, like falling down the rabbit hole to an artificially flavoured wonderland.

Okonomiyaki at Cafe Ish, Surry Hills

I remember once being served Okonomiyaki by a waitress named 'Sushi Susan' – the Japanese pancake came accompanied by a small 'pirate ship' full of food. Around the table, we sliced up and shared the portions as a giant papier-mache squid hung above, like a marine chandelier.

Even if this hadn't taken place in an eccentric Japanese restaurant in Canada, I think I'd still remember it, because I can single out every instance I've had okonomiyaki. It seems to be a menu-shy dish, it's never listed as much as I'd like.

Luckily, it turns out you can get okonomiyaki for lunch at Cafe Ish (another long-time Sydney favourite that I blogged about last year; its highly original Japanese-meets-Australian cafe food is worth the return visits).

Cafe Ish's version is a crusty, thick stack of cabbage-and-shallot-embedded goodness, topped with shredded nori, wasabi dijonnaise and plum sauce – a winter-perfect mix that makes me instantly declare, "more please". You can get it like this for $11, or pile on extras (bacon & tasty cheese; salmon & organic feta).

There's no pirate ship in sight but I think even Sushi Susan could consider crossing the sea (with her papier mache squid) for this one. Another nice okonomiyaki memory to bank away – and not the last one, hopefully.

Cafe Ish, Shop 2, 102 Albion St, Surry Hills NSW (02) 9281 1688

Breakfast Bruschetta

There are always weekends spent moping around the house, wondering how your epic hunger coincides with a Mother Hubbard state of cupboard affairs.

And then there are the ones where everything lines up extremely nicely. Blake and Lex had given me a jar of their home-made tomato relish the week before and I had some crusty bread that was going to cross over into that rock-hard stage of dental pain and general inedibility if I didn't use it soon.

So I made some breakfast bruschetta with the relish, adding some parmesan shavings, pine nuts, a greedy extra lug of olive oil and some shreds of baby spinach.

The relish was really the main star – the chilli was an unexpected scissorkick of flavour, as was the tart hit of vinegar.

If you're in a condiment-making mood, you can create this relish by finding Blake's recipe in the Save FBi cookbook (which you can download here, in exchange for a voluntary donation to the station.

Otherwise, you can wait until Blake (hopefully) opens his cafe in Berlin (one day).

Black Star Pastry, Newtown (again)

I know I blogged about Black Star Pastry last year but I was recently re-reminded of how great it is. The macro-sized patisserie has sort of provided the menu to my week – or a kind of diary spelt in sugar, ganache, elderflower and rosewater.

It started last Saturday with a Zucchini and Pumpkin Muffin ($3.50) I bought, just before the gavel came down on a house that Will really wanted to buy at auction. I needed some oven-baked-fortification to steel myself for the scary bout of bidding I was about to witness. I really liked the muffin (whoever knew that timid zucchini actually had flavour?) but could only eat half of it before the auction started. It was that nerve-wracking.

I'll spare you a dramatic re-telling of the actual auction (but if you want, you can imagine a cheesy movie montage with overloud timpani and bad close-ups of people's sweaty foreheads, etc), only to say we were hugely relieved when the auctioneer yelled 'Sold'. Will got the house, despite last-minute deviousness by another bidder we have since dubbed 'Snake-In-The-Grass'.

So we had a celebratory Rose and Lilac Macaron ($3.50) a few hours later. And it was occasion-worthy: crumbly when you split it, but crisp when you bit in and the filling was a liquid hit of rosewater delicious.



My bulk-Black-Star-Pastry-buying that day also included a Mandarin and Lemon Myrtle Panna Cotta ($5). I liked how the mandarin pieces were playing it both ways: gloopy-sweet and a little tart, with a few shreds of lemon myrtle for modulated punch - like the feisty topic that ignites an otherwise civil dinner party conversation.

I ate a third of it, left it in Will's fridge and a day or so later, reminded him not to forget it.

"Too late, I yum'd that up yesterday," he said.

Later in the week, I went on another buying blitz at Black Star Pastry. This time, the treats were for a dinner being thrown by Blake and Lex (who make the most moreish mushroom soup and za'atar bread I've ever eaten).



You can see (above), the Strawberry Watermelon Rose Cream Cake ($6), Elderflower Cheesecake ($6), Chocolate Hazelnut Torte ($6), Saffron Mango Shortbread ($3) and another rose-speckled macaron. All are as delicious as they look and the cheesecake is definitely a conversation-starter: particularly regarding the mysterious concentric circles trapped in the icing (our Sherlock Holmes-like guess: grapes, sliced painfully thin).

What you can't see above is the slick chocolate topping of the torte (a casualty of cake-box transportation, the icing was wiped clean against the lid and diligently spot-removed, one spoonful at a time, by Will).

You also can't see the Mushroom, Pine Nut, Spinach Pithivier ($5), a flaky, crusty pie-slice that completely monopolised my thoughts for a few days after I had it for lunch. The sweet, near-caramelised mushrooms still haven't entirely left my brain and I have an auto-craving right now, just thinking about it.

I asked one staff member what it was they did to the mushrooms that made them so tasty. All she said was that they used, "lots of fresh herbs, lots of love".

So I am plotting my next visit again (hopefully it coincides with pithivier presence on the counter). Better still, Will's new house is within walking distance of Black Star Pastry. So I'll have to improve my cake-box tranportation methods, because it'll be hard to fight the gravitational path that curves towards this wonderful patisserie.

Black Star Pastry, 277 Australia St, Newtown NSW, 2042, (02) 9557 8656

The Save FBI cookbook zine - download, enjoy and donate

Not The Last Supper: the Save FBI cookbook zine is done and ready for you to download!

If you're printing it out, you can download a high-quality cover for it too. It was beautifully designed by Grace Lee.

It was quickly put together in a week and features some very great recipes (Sweetie’s Delicious Dumplings, Julia Thomas' Choc-Cherry Muffins, Sausie & Tomato by Shag's mum, Vegan Ginger Cakes and Mulled Wine by Eliza Sarlos, Vegetarian Lasagne by Danny & Caroline Jumpertz, Station-Saving Slow-roasted Lamb Shoulder by Peach and much more!)

More details here, where you can also make donations in exchange for the zine.




Download, enjoy, donate - and save FBI 94.5FM!



For a taste of it, here's my contribution – which includes my recipe for Bruschetta In A Teacup.

I love bruschetta but I am hopeless at eating it – I start slicing a piece of it and the little tomato cubes jumble off the bread and I have to re-scoop them up with a knife and redistribute them amid the crusts again.

So, I came up with Bruschetta In A Teacup to combat this. It is also a good time-stalling starter if you are throwing a dinner party – you can feed it to your guests while you’re still dashing about in the kitchen, slinging things into the oven, garnishing dishes and watching pots bubble away. Also, you can make it ages before they arrive (the flavour is even better) and it’s all good to go when they turn up.

Basic ingredients
A handful of cherry tomatoes per guest
A slurp of extra virgin olive oil
A dash of caramelised balsamic vinegar (you can use aged balsamic with a good sprinkle of sugar instead, if you don’t have this)
A nice loaf of bread (sourdough or ciabatta are sound picks), sliced thickly
Clove of garlic (optional)

Optional extras
Finely diced garlic
A bit of fresh chilli/dried chilli
Finely diced Red onion
Toasted pine nuts
Basil
Oregano
Shavings of good Parmesan cheese
Finely diced olives
Sea salt and ground black pepper to season



Basically, chop the cherry tomatoes.
Drop into a small Asian-style teacup or ramekin.
Add a good slurp of extra virgin olive oil (enough to submerge half the tomato).
Add a dash of the vinegar.
Add any optional extras you like – don’t go over-the-top with one particular ingredient, but go for a nice mix. Be sparing with stronger ingredients, such as onion or garlic, unless you do like a sharp hit with your bruschetta.
Give the ingredients a good stir, so the oil is evenly distributed. Leave to let flavours sink in for a bit.
Repeat as appropriate for the number of guests you have.
Before serving, grill/toast the bread.
Cut a garlic clove in half (if using) and then rub against the still-warm slices.
Serve bread on a platter.
Everyone can take a slice and dunk into their teacup as appropriate or spoon the mix onto the bread if they like. Less bruschetta spillage occurs, everyone is happy.