In yet another relentless edition of I’ve had no time to cook and take photos of my glorious dinners so here are some photos I dun did elsewhere, here are just a few fried press snaps of fried fun taken for Surry Hills’ latest, Brooklyn Social. I’m not a girl, not yet a blogger.

Styled by Nathan Sullivan, please enjoy the divey, hungover, burgers-on-wood goodness below. Drown yourself in hotdogs and face plant into some ribs.

Brooklyn SocialBrooklyn SocialBrooklyn SocialBrooklyn SocialBrooklyn SocialBrooklyn SocialBrooklyn SocialBrooklyn SocialBrooklyn SocialBrooklyn SocialBrooklyn SocialBrooklyn SocialBrooklyn SocialBrooklyn SocialBrooklyn SocialBrooklyn SocialBrooklyn SocialBrooklyn SocialBrooklyn SocialBrooklyn SocialBrooklyn SocialBrooklyn SocialBrooklyn SocialBrooklyn SocialBrooklyn SocialBrooklyn SocialBrooklyn SocialBrooklyn SocialBrooklyn SocialBrooklyn SocialBrooklyn SocialBrooklyn Social

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I’ve always felt a strange affinity with one of the photos below and I was so glad to find it in the latest Broadsheet print issue this afternoon. So, guess what, I’m posting a whole lot more because #feelings.

The kitchen will always and forever be the heart of the home to me, and with a kitchen as open as this I feel the flames of Da Orazio are the most real thing I’ve ever encountered in the yoga mat wielding town of Bondi. And that’s probably why I love this photo so much, it’s a delicious Sydney juxtaposition.

(Also, when Maurice Terzini insists you take a pizza home with you, and when you finally put your feet up and ease into the cheese, and it happens to be the greatest slice to grace your face — you know it’s been a good day.)

Da Orazio Pizza + PorchettaDa Orazio Pizza + PorchettaDa Orazio Pizza + PorchettaDa Orazio Pizza + PorchettaDa Orazio Pizza + PorchettaDa Orazio Pizza + PorchettaDa Orazio Pizza + PorchettaDa Orazio Pizza + PorchettaDa Orazio Pizza + PorchettaDa Orazio Pizza + PorchettaDa Orazio Pizza + PorchettaDa Orazio Pizza + PorchettaDa Orazio Pizza + PorchettaDa Orazio Pizza + PorchettaDa Orazio Pizza + PorchettaDa Orazio Pizza + Porchetta

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I arrived in Japan a month after the 2011 earthquake and tsunami, the catalyst of the devastating Fukushima meltdown. Despite advice from peripheral acquaintances to cancel my trip, life in Tokyo (superficially) seemed as normal as ever – operating transportation, bustling nightlife, all those good and normal things. That is until we ventured to Tsukiji market one weekend.

There was an apocalyptic feel at 9am. We were met with emptiness, a certain stillness of sparse warehouses and strewn palettes. We found a sign slathered to a grubby wall in red tape politely warning us: “Please stop visiting the market by the earthquake generation”. Our morning stroll felt increasingly intrusive as we meandered, confused, through deserted loading dock after deserted loading dock. Crates and turret trucks were poised neatly for the most part ready for a busy day of trade. A school of comical plastic tetraodontidae fish hung limp above locked roller doors – eerie to say the least. We eventually found a small pocket of stalls operating on the market’s outskirts running on skeleton staff but I could feel unrest in the air, even a sweet pug resting at my feet had the most solemn look in its eyes.

We eventually found somewhere to eat, and did so gravely (with occasional banter regarding how wonderful our breakfast was like the filthy foodies we are), and left the hushed Tsukiji market, not having experienced the bustling wonder of people and produce, but instead a rare scene at a standstill I struggle to express in words.

Tsukiji Market

Tsukiji Market
Tsukiji Market
Tsukiji Market
Tsukiji Market

Tsukiji Market
Tsukiji Market

Tsukiji Market
Tsukiji Market
Tsukiji Market
Tsukiji Market
Tsukiji Market
Tsukiji Market
Tsukiji Market

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Hot Chocolate

Tonight I read a horrible blog review of one of my favourite restaurants, so, I began to feel incredibly saddened on their behalf and made myself a warm beverage as a result of that #firstworld online stress. And now I’m blogging about that thing I made as a result of blog apprehension. Circle of online life. Be annoyed by internet therefore post on internet.

I’m making a stand in not referring to this as “Spicy Coconut Hot Chocolate” up there in that title box because I care not for buzzwords or SEO. Gosh, I’m so kooky and anti-blog! My recipes are so understated and cool! Plus, I have no clever anecdote today except that I reacted in a most delicious way to something that really had no bearing on my everyday life at all. Hahah, feelings. This is spicy and salty and fatty and chocolately so indulge happily, and if you happen to be in a foul mood contemplating why you can’t help but be annoyed by annoying things in the peripherals of your career like I was, relish in its lingering chilli glory and feel it all around.

Hot ChocolateHot Chocolate


Hot Chocolate

1 cup milk
1/2 cup coconut milk
2 cinnamon quills
A few squares of chocolate
1/2 tsp dried chilli
Pinch of salt

1. Warm milk and coconut milk in a saucepan. Add one cinnamon quill and bring to the boil. Once hot enough, simmer until the milk is infused with cinnamon (around 15 minutes). Remove from heat, add chocolate and stir until dissolved (you may need to apply more heat to finish the job). Add chilli and salt, stir to combine and pour into mugs. Float another cinnamon quill on top and down that bad thing like you just don’t care.

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ONCE UPON A TIME THIS WAS ACCEPTABLE. (You can consider this post an act of nostalgia, some thinly veiled vanity in regards to self improvement or simply some straight up lols fresh out of 2008.)

I am a firm believer that there is no such thing as a bad photo or bad photographer, just a bad attitude behind said photo or photographer. Armed with a fuji point-and-shoot as I travelled the globe almost 6 years ago I’d like to think the photos you see posted below were taken with both earnest intentions and a light heart and as such I feel it’s only right to give them the attention they deserve. Let’s transport ourselves back to a time where the food you ate was not a badge of honour nor was the dish you ordered a notch on your gluttonous bed post. It was part of the ordinary everyday and taking a photo of your dinner wasn’t a thing, a fad or a taboo; you could take a casual photo of it as if it were a friend or a cute dog. Auto mode! Turn on the flash! I would use flash all the time if I could!

These images retain a certain innocence, relics of an era before the complex and ubiquitous beast that is food blogging entered our precious lives.

They’re unappetising, poorly framed and ill-considered to anybody of this day and age; it’s funny how such simple notions become so dated (and offensive), huh? They represent documentation rather than collection so please enjoy, no, celebrate, something that would now be considered “a little bit shit”. Appreciate a simpler time with me, please.

IMG_1544

 

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Single Origin Roasters: where coffee rules and so does their salmon dish, the beards are abundant and the service isn’t just friendly, it’s a straight up party. Photo bombers run rampant (it’s a good thing). And now they’re open on Saturdays!

Single Origin Roasters, Surry Hills
Single Origin Roasters, Surry Hills
Single Origin Roasters, Surry Hills
Single Origin Roasters, Surry Hills
Single Origin Roasters, Surry Hills
Single Origin Roasters, Surry Hills
Single Origin Roasters, Surry Hills
Single Origin Roasters, Surry Hills
Single Origin Roasters, Surry Hills
Single Origin Roasters, Surry Hills
Single Origin Roasters, Surry Hills
Single Origin Roasters, Surry Hills
Single Origin Roasters, Surry Hills
Single Origin Roasters, Surry Hills

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Bread and Butter Pudding with Sourdough and Sugar Plums

 

I’d like to keep this short and sweet (much like the recipe I am about to post, hurr hurr). The other day, as time makes fools of us all, my kitchen had unexpectedly become the confused home of the dregs of two loaves of stale, rock-hard sourdough, a bottle of milk teetering on the brink of expiration in the fridge and a handful of sugar plums which were now sympathetically over ripening by its side, literally bursting at their seams with sweetness. So in a flurry of food blogger grandeur with help from some butter and eggs, from my oven poured one of the best impromptu desserts ever made – I’m talking repertoire for life with the added bonus of DRF (“dat rustic feel”) grade dessert. As much as I like to think I am the internet’s gift to cooking as each golden spoonful graced my golden mouth hole stroking my golden ego – the spectacle of this pud’ relies 99% on the producers all this good stuff was sourced from. So I’ve included a little list towards the end of this post.

If you’re reading this outside of sugar plum season, either omit or replace it with something else nice. The staler the bread the better – bask in the flecks of vanilla bean in every chewy mouthful. Be one with the just set custard. Get zen with all those things in your fridge which might have been thrown out and wasted otherwise.
 

Bread and Butter Pudding with Sourdough and Sugar Plums
Bread and Butter Pudding with Sourdough and Sugar Plums
Bread and Butter Pudding with Sourdough and Sugar Plums
Bread and Butter Pudding with Sourdough and Sugar Plums
Bread and Butter Pudding with Sourdough and Sugar Plums
Bread and Butter Pudding with Sourdough and Sugar Plums
Bread and Butter Pudding with Sourdough and Sugar Plums
Bread and Butter Pudding with Sourdough and Sugar Plums
Bread and Butter Pudding with Sourdough and Sugar Plums

 

Bread + Butter Pudding with Sourdough and Sugar Plums
1/2 loaf stale sourdough
300ml milk
300ml cream
4 large eggs
125g sugar
1 generous vanilla bean
Enough butter to slather on your bread pieces
6 sugar plums, or however many you have
Icing sugar, to serve (optional)

1. With a knife, or hacksaw, divide sourdough into pieces. You can arrange them in your dish of choice to check you have enough but keep in mind they will become one with the milk (and shrink) once custard mixture is poured over.
2. Slather that bread with any amount of butter you please iIf you’re not all about that #cleaneating life, be generous) and arrange them in the dish, tetris style.
3. Whisk together milk, cream, eggs, sugar and seeds of vanilla bean. Pour over the stale bread and allow to stand for an hour. You may need to do this in two parts and the bread soaks up the custard mixture. While this is happening, preheat oven to 180° and halve and de-seed the sugar plums.
4. Once bread is drenched and ready, scatter sugar plums on top of the bread, pushing a few a little further into the dish. Place in the oven for 35 minutes. When ready sprinkle with icing sugar and serve immediately.

Bread from Shepherd’s Bakehouse (pumpkin sourdough) and Rosetta Stone (seven seed sourdough)
Butter by Pepe Saya
Sugar plums from The Muscat Family Farm sourced by The Local Harvest Collective
Milk from Country Valley Dairy
Eggs from Holbrook Paddock

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Moroccan Citrus Salad

 

Blanket terms and generalisations for international cuisines forever rub me the wrong way. I still retain my delicate sensibilities by finding “Mediterranean salad” with some olives mixed in, “Greek style pasta” adorned with feta crumble, “Asian style salad” with a sesame seed garnish or “Arabic style lamb” with a smattering of pomegranate straight up offensive. Can we please stop pigeonholing dishes and defining a culture by the addition of one cliché ingredient? Sure, accessibility and all that, but one spiced Spanish-style sausage a paella does not make.

This week my bookshelf has been graced with The Jewelled Kitchen by Bethany Kehdy, and this citrus salad from page 68 is a far cry from the usual whack a pomegranate on it and call it ethnic food fare – it’s tangy, it’s fresh, it’s sweet, it’s zingy, it’s a little crunchy. My version varies tremendously from the original in terms of presentation (my mandolin and oranges of choice did not want to be friends) so, in classic Alana style, I’ve opted for the messy rustic approach.

This book is a wonderful collection of Middle Eastern recipes, and as aforementioned it isn’t the usual fusion fare – this is a genuine, heartfelt book with both classics, modern interpretations and personal adaptations and as someone who grew up alongside some of these dishes it is an absolute joy to read.

In an attempt to cease the stereotypical just add ____ for that easy, authentic flavour! style recipes I’m giving away one copy of The Jewelled Kitchen to inspire the inner Teta in all of you. To enter all you need to do is answer this simple question by leaving a comment below: what’s your favourite Middle Eastern dish? Blanket, authentic, fusion or offensive guilty pleasure, I don’t care. Local kebab? The most hectic kataifi? Shout it from the roof tops and shout it to me within the sweet confines of the internet.

Moroccan Citrus Salad
Moroccan Citrus Salad
Moroccan Citrus Salad
Moroccan Citrus Salad
Moroccan Citrus Salad
Moroccan Citrus Salad
Moroccan Citrus Salad
Moroccan Citrus Salad

 

Many citrus fruits mentioned here are out of season so just replace them with whatever you like (the more grapefruit you use the more honey you may need, please heed my sour warning).

Moroccan Citrus Salad
(from The Jewelled Kitchen by Bethany Kehdy)

1 lime
1 orange
1 blood orange
1 pink grapefruit
1 pomegranate, seeded
A few of pistachios, roughly chopped
2 tbsp honey
1/2 tsp orange blossom water
1/4 tsp ground cinnamon
A few mint leaves
4 tbsp Greek yoghurt

1. Using a sharp knife segment citrus fruit or use a mandolin to slice into fine pieces. Or cut however you like, whatever! Throw your citrus in a bowl with the pomegranate seeds.
2. Add orange blossom water and honey and give it all a stir. Add mint leaves, combine again, then serve in the bowl of your choice as neatly or as rustic as you like. Sprinkle cinnamon over the top.
3. Adorn with a generous dollop of yoghurt, sprinkle the pistachio shards and enjoy with a glass of mint tea (green tea + sugar + mint leaves).

I know I said no more blatant photo posts, but let’s face it, I’m the worst and am more than willing to shamelessly hurl my claws into the universal oh, I just moved house, I’m busy, life is hard excuse. In fact, I’ll shout it from the rooftops; I HAVE UNPACKED BOXES AND NEED TO PURCHASE 3M HOOKS, MY KITCHEN IS UNFAMILIAR AND MY COUCH WOULDN’T FIT UP THE STAIRS (true story). So, to celebrate my unceremonious return to Sydney’s inner-west (and the connection of my internet today), here are some photos of the newly founded and permanent residence of Sadhana Kitchen in Enmore.

Sadhana Kitchen
Sadhana Kitchen
Sadhana Kitchen
Sadhana Kitchen
Sadhana Kitchen
Sadhana Kitchen
Sadhana Kitchen
Sadhana Kitchen
Sadhana Kitchen
Sadhana Kitchen
Sadhana Kitchen
Sadhana Kitchen

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Oh no, not another restaurant profile! I’m in the process of moving house and have therefore been eating everybody else’s food rather than lovingly preparing my own heartfelt and meaningful dishes before a mighty tripod. My insatiable appetite for posting #new #original #content cannot be subdued however so here are some photos for Matt Moran and Peter Sullivan’s latest venture, North Bondi Fish, taken in December last year just before their official opening (celeb chef power-up). If you see these images floating around anywhere think of me. Think of me fondly (or not).

North Bondi Fish, Bondi
North Bondi Fish, Bondi
North Bondi Fish, Bondi
North Bondi Fish, Bondi
North Bondi Fish, Bondi
North Bondi Fish, Bondi
North Bondi Fish, Bondi
North Bondi Fish, Bondi
North Bondi Fish, Bondi
North Bondi Fish, Bondi
North Bondi Fish, Bondi
North Bondi Fish, Bondi
North Bondi Fish, Bondi
North Bondi Fish, Bondi
North Bondi Fish, Bondi
North Bondi Fish, Bondi
North Bondi Fish, Bondi
North Bondi Fish, Bondi
North Bondi Fish, Bondi
North Bondi Fish, Bondi
North Bondi Fish, Bondi
North Bondi Fish, Bondi
North Bondi Fish, Bondi
North Bondi Fish, Bondi
North Bondi Fish, Bondi
North Bondi Fish, Bondi
North Bondi Fish, Bondi
North Bondi Fish, Bondi
North Bondi Fish, Bondi
North Bondi Fish, Bondi
North Bondi Fish, Bondi
North Bondi Fish, Bondi
North Bondi Fish, Bondi
North Bondi Fish, Bondi
North Bondi Fish, Bondi
North Bondi Fish, Bondi
North Bondi Fish, Bondi
North Bondi Fish, Bondi
North Bondi Fish, Bondi
North Bondi Fish, Bondi
North Bondi Fish, Bondi
North Bondi Fish, Bondi
North Bondi Fish, Bondi
North Bondi Fish, Bondi
North Bondi Fish, Bondi
North Bondi Fish, Bondi
North Bondi Fish, Bondi
North Bondi Fish, Bondi
North Bondi Fish, Bondi

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