After attempting and failing miserably to climb the epic hills which are the San Francisco urban landscape, we cowardly hailed and stowed ourselves on the first bus heading south to the famed Mission district.
As I was trundling down Parramatta Road this week in ever-increasing drizzle, I was greeted with a welcome beacon of hope.
Café Paci offers a depth of experience that rarely exists in Sydney eateries. Your senses are thrown awry as you step through the door to a bright, fluorescent-lit, narrow corridor, leading to a garish red and grey, block painted stair. I felt like I was being drawn into a communist-style interrogation room.
In our super-busy, modern lives we seldom get the chance to pause, fully savour and enjoy. We fly from one activity, event or meal to the next, thinking I will get the chance to relax and enjoy tonight, or tomorrow, or at Christmas.
I received an interesting message from a beautiful friend last week – what to do with 10kg of grapes? Well, make wine, of course, was my first thought.
Welcome my fellow foragers, Victoria here with my midweek musings. I woke this morning to an ephemeral mist settling over Sydney Harbour casting a violet hue to everything it touched. It put me in a blue mood – lets clarify – not a drag your feet on the floor, heave and sigh all the time mood, but just set indigo, violet and midnight on the mind.
I have a fig tree. A buxom, billowy fig tree. We have a tumultuous relationship as I do with all my green, leafy friends.
I was bursting with excitement this last weekend at our local farmer’s market, Orange Grove.
I am a huge fan of Messina Gelato. Yeah, yeah, who isn’t, move on, you say. Well I will explain why – its Messina’s complexity of flavours that lures me in every time.