July 2012

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Good morning! Saturday is here! It’s breakfast time! The most important meal of the day! Gather your housemates! Find a small dog! Walk down the street together and laugh merrily! Take a seat at the newest and trendiest of cafés! Quinoa muesli! Poached eggs! Stuff served with some sort of compote! Coffee made with Bonsoy! YEAH!

This used to be my life before beginning the very rewarding, yet arduous task, of enrolling into uni in my early 20s. After around a year and a half of full-time study I lost my part-time office job to restructuring, or whatever, and was left very, very unemployed. I did a few odd jobs around town, I worked at a restaurant for a little while but eventually I could barely keep my head above the financial waters that surround the inner-west lifestyle (and by ‘lifestyle’ I mean ‘rent’). The whole living-on-mi-goreng gag is funny when you actually can afford a little more but is hideously heart-wrenching as a blaring truth. Noodles, and the occasional avocado, made up a lot of my dinners when I was sensible enough to no longer throw down my debt ridden credit card and unfortunately living in such a sweet area was no longer sustainable. I said goodbye to my enormous rent which was good but saying goodbye to local friends, good eats and good coffee was not.

So, when I’m away from Sydney’s inner-west I like to pretend I’m still enjoying the good life by making a café brunch of my own. It’s so easy! And here’s one of them.

Some of my earliest memories are of my mum making pancakes and some of my earliest memories are of my dad are pouring honey onto anything he could find, including ricotta-slathered pieces of toast. I like my pancakes phat with shredded fruit so consider this brunch dish an homage to my family of sorts. You can keep it innocent if you wish and use this post simply as a damn good pancake recipe. If you want to lose the pear try reducing the amount of flour to only one cup. If you want to lose the ricotta and honey then, uhh, I don’t want to know about it. Let’s get some ~food porn~ close up action happening.

Without further hesitation here’s the recipe for what I like to think of a near perfect breakfast/brunch dripping with re-worked nostalgia from a time where I was barely tall enough to even reach the stovetop. I would happily serve in my hypothetical inner-west cafe (it will happen one day). No gram measurements today because this recipe is far easier to remember in simple cups, and who even wants to pull out their scales that early in the morning? Not I, not I.

Shredded Pear Pancakes with Cinnamon Ricotta
(an original recipe to make around 24 pancakes)

Pancake batter
3 cups flour
1 1/2 cup milk
1 cup sugar
2 tsp baking powder
2 eggs
2 pears, grated
Butter, for greasing

Cinnamon ricotta
300g (just over a cup) fresh ricotta
Cinnamon, to taste

1. Combine all pancake batter ingredients in a bowl and whisk well. Allow to stand at room temperature for 30 minutes.
2. Lightly grease a pan with butter and place on medium heat. Ladle the pancake batter in rounds and cook for 1-2 minutes on each side or until the surface begins to bubble and the edges have browned nicely.
3. Combine ricotta and cinnamon (around 2 tsp) well. Serve atop or beside pancakes with a generous drizzling of honey or syrup.

One year ago I mustered up the strength, vague coding skills and whatever cutsey thread of illustrator I had left in me to start this blog.

DID YOU KNOW? I only learnt to cook a few years ago. Living with my family I found little reason to as the food that pours from my mum’s kitchen, and extended family’s too, is close to perfection. I began fending for myself out of necessity when I moved out of home and soon learnt that preparing an honest meal for my friends and neighbours was one of the most humbling and enjoyable things to do. I began cooking more and more, documenting everything I did along the way so I wouldn’t forget. Eventually the scraps of paper and my poor memory weren’t cutting it and I’m certain the flood of ~food pics~ in my friends’ Facebook feed was becoming more of an irritation than some quirky fun; it was around this time I decided to create a delicious outlet of my own. The Sydney food blog scene at the time seemed a curious thing, however; super cliquey and with more emphasis on outings than to meals itself, or so I thought. I wanted to contribute to the pool with some dishes and stories of typical things I prepare at home for myself and treats I create for the special people in my life. Couple this with a drastic yearning for a career change, bringing my yuppie, inner-west lifestyle to a screeching halt in order to return to university to study something that actually resonated with me and hopefully assist in finding myself a job that didn’t have me questioning my life anytime the morning alarm tore me from my bed, so relentlessly, each and every day. Throw in a new found appreciation for digital photography and bam. Hello alanabread.

Since a year ago my photography has improved immensely. I no longer identify myself as a cupcake/macaron girl as my savoury repertoire is ever expanding. I’m working on a little book and have even submitted food photography as fine art prints for my final year of university. I occasionally intern as a café photographer for a Sydney magazine and here and there I receive little jobs to bake a box of treats for a special somebody’s event. Hey, I’ve even written a little book review. A couple of posts have won some prizes. It’s snowballing, and that’s awesome. Combined with my studies this is a great foundation of skills I’ve managed to piece together from this little blog. The above image is a chronological excerpt of every post thus far, it’s like a crazy gradient of memories and self-improvement.

The point I’m trying to make here is that putting yourself out there, especially on the internet, is hard. Weird and hard. And although I am passionate about so many things I barely possesses the ability to act on them these days, unfortunately ambition doesn’t rank too highly in my skillset (I can say the same for drive and confidence) due to a number of stupid reasons I am trying so desperately to change, so this is kind of a big deal to me (it’s been a difficult year). I’m clearly getting a little sentimental over here however I cannot end this longwinded sentiment without thanking all of my super friends, new and old, for their immense encouragement. So, thank you!! I appreciate you guys so much it makes my heart explode.

Anyway. This is getting a little too real, all I wanted to do was post some pretty pictures! Hahahahaha… ahh. Anyway, I’m going to shove my emotions aside for a moment with this small list of a things I’ve discovered and learnt as a “food blogger” over the year. They may or may not be relevant to you but I felt compelled to share nonetheless:

  • The term “foodie” isn’t a swear. It’s ok. Embrace it! Don’t shudder.
  • Did Foodgawker or Tastespotting just decline your photo? Who cares. This has no bearing on your amazing skills; they are but a couple of people with opinions. These kind of foodporn sites may attract pageviews but statistically these guys only stick around for a few seconds; true fans will visit your site over and over.
  • There’s no shame in mentioning and crediting your inspiration; don’t be that guy who rips off others! Bad reps spread like wildfire. If somebody does rip off your stuff however then try to take it as a compliment. Imitation is the most sincere form of flattery, etc etc.
  • Ignore the haters. For every good thing you do there’ll be somebody to try and drag you down. Whatevz! Jealousy is a horrible thing and it’s a big, big shame what it can do to people.
  • Shaking your head at Tumblr idiots who never credit your images, no matter how hard you shake, won’t make them go away.
  • Take a break if you’re too flustered to take photos after cooking! Have a rest, make some coffee, come back to it a little later. You’ll end up with a an uneditable, subpar image (and probably a sticky camera).
  • Lightroom, guys. PHOTOSHOP. Adjustment layers and all that. Post-processing is just as important as hitting the shutter on your camera. Don’t just throw a filter over all your images, zoom in and have fun emphasising all the best aspects of your images.
  • It’s better to over-cook than under-cook (I’m talking quantities here).
  • Second hand stores have the best styling props.
  • If you’re into sugar then kitchen thermometers are a must have (sugar is a harsh mistress with no time for those of us who attempt to wing it).
  • Cream cheese filling in a macaron is a no-no.
  • Salt works in everything, especially chocolate.
  • If an experimental recipe doesn’t work out then try it again some other time. Never dismiss anything even if it takes a few months to get back to that recipe.
  • If you feel as though favourite cuisine or baked good has been over-saturated or played out try and re-invent it! Make it bigger, better, tastier, cuter.

And, most importantly…

  • Don’t cook for your blog. Cook for yourself, your family and your friends, then blog about it.

Thank you for reading and thank you so much for visiting my humble blog. I mean that with my entire essence and every thread of all that is me. :’)

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Cravings are weird, right?

Majority of my friends are travelling, or will be travelling in the coming weeks, so to curb my fuming jealously I’ve turned to thoughts of some past adventures yonder seas. In 2008/2009 I hung out in Europe for a couple of months as most 20 year olds do; a few memories of a brief stint in Paris include being rained on tremendously, being kicked out of a souveigner store when I asked the owner for directions, trying to hit on a cab driver with a little help from the ‘romance’ section of my French translation app, seeing many, many boobies at the Moulin Rouge, and, as terribly cliché as it may sound, enjoying a really fantastic French onion soup, or rather, soupe a l’oignon, in a little café.

Since that fleeting thought I hadn’t the will-power to force it out of my mind. MUST HAVE FRENCH ONION SOUP! In a huge coincidence my prayers were answered at dinner at El Circo a couple of weeks ago; an amazing blended soup with a dash of port graced our degustation menu. Mind blowing stuff. And since then it seemed anytime I turned on the TV this soup has been everywhere. Food Safari. MasterChef masterclass. Some other show I can’t remember. The pressure was building up behind my tastebuds; It was time to prepare a soupe a l’oignon of my own.

I began trawling through old photos after making this, and check it out, I found a photo of that soup I ordered in that little Parisian café almost four years ago! Mind you I wasn’t much of a photographer back then with my little Canon snapshot (other photos in this album include me posing idiotically before landmarks, flipping off the Mona Lisa and getting craycray in da club). Hahaha… ahh. Gross.

This recipe is rather rich (beef stock + alcohol + cheese!) and will serve 2 for main or 4 for a little entree. I’ve thrown everything into this one, large pot for all to share at the dinner table but serving them up individually is great for dinner parties too.

Soupe a l’Oignon
(an original recipe)

600g onion (around 4 medium-large), finely sliced
50g butter
2tbs flour
250ml beef stock
500ml water
2 sprigs thyme
Salt
60ml port
60g gruyère, grated
2 slices bread

1. In a large, heavy-based saucepan melt butter over medium heat. Add onions and stir until softened. Continue to cook over medium heat, stirring occasionally, for around an hour or until beginning to caramelise and brown.
2. Add flour to the onions and stir to cook for a few minutes. Add the stock, water and thyme and bring to the boil. Reduce heat and simmer for 30 minutes, adding salt to taste.
3. Preheat oven to 200°C. Place your bread under a grill to toast lightly.
4. Once the soup is ready add the port then carefully ladle into an oven-proof bowl. Add a third of the cheese, then the toasted bread, then top with the remainder of the cheese. Place in the oven for around 10 minutes or until cheese has melted and is deliciously blistered. Serve immediately.

Bon appétit!

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