buttermilk scones

I have been moving around a lot lately, I think I’ve mentioned it before. I counted recently and if you count all the times I’ve moved in the last three years, I’ve moved twelve times in the last three years.

Twelve.

Twelve is a lot of times. Twelve moves is twenty four cars packed forty eight times. Twelve moves is twelve times I’ve forgotten little pieces of my life, bits of me scattered all over eastern Victoria.

Twelve moves is twelve times I’ve had to say goodbye. Continue reading

the thing about butter

So when I lived at home, I was the official “treat maker”. I liked to cook, and so my mum told me that if I made “recess food” (for those who don’t know, recess is the mini break Australian children have in between the start of school and lunchtime. In primary school it’s often known as playtime. I don’t even.) for my family, she would do the dishes. This, all you bakers out there know, is a BIG DEAL.

Unfortunately, I think Dad got stuck with doing most of the dishes and I got stuck with the reputation of avoiding dishes (although I’ve lived out of home for almost three years now and so do all my own dishes. Also, I do dishes for a living. Come on, guys!)

(A lot of parentheses in this post. Just a little notice that I noticed.)

All that to say, when I lived at home, I baked at home. A lot. I like to try things out, I like to bake delicious sweet things. (No, really. I really do. You can’t tell, can you?) Continue reading

vegan chocolate cupcakes

I was at a cafe the other day taking a break from, well, my life, and it was pretty busy so I got a seat at the counter which runs along the window, squeezed between a girl on a notebook computer and a guy drawing with a sharpie in a visual diary and

side note but I am always fascinated by people who can draw and I like to watch them. The way that people can use a pen or a sharpie or whatever and make lines on paper look good? wow. Probably because I would really be able to draw but I don’t have the discipline to make myself draw enough to get good at it. I love to do too many other things.

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cupcakes, chocolate

I didn’t really know what to title this post because although there is a recipe for chocolate cupcakes at the end, it’s not really about the cupcakes. The cupcakes are a vehicle for me to talk about stuff.

I feel like lately life has been happening to me, rather than that I am actually living life. It might have to do with the fact that I’m living in a state of limbo and my life has been turned upside down this year. I don’t know what I want to do with my life or where I’m going and so I’m filling in time by working and baking and going to parties and weddings.

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linzertorte

Did you know that Jack Johnson likes his peanut butter crunchy? Someone’s mum once taught him how to use those peanut butter machines from the health food shop that she worked at and had no idea who he was.

Good story. Needs more dragons.

This happens. Listening to the radio on a Thursday afternoon.

An overcast and chilly Thursday afternoon, with nothing better to do. My favourite kind of day.

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raspberry muffins, a basketful

There’s something about autumn that just makes me happy. In Melbourne, you get all the cold wet miserableness of winter, plus the pretty colours and occasional sunlight of autumn. It’s May, so that means we’re definitely in the swing of cold, blustery autumn. I love it.

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chai spiced apple cake

I’ve been in a bit of a funk for the past few days. It started at approximately 1300 hours Perth time, Wednesday the 4th of January, when I boarded the plane bound for Melbourne. I really did not want to go home.

And then it continued, as I lazed around the house and didn’t do my washing and procrastinated my huge list of things to do. I didn’t bake, I read books and trawled the internet and definitively didn’t write any blog posts.

I started quite a few in my mind but every time I went to bake something there was something in the sink, or on the sink, and I was so lazy I couldn’t be bothered with dishes, either mine or anyone else’s.

That’s a lie. I was pretty good with my own dishes. Pretty good. Not perfect. But pretty good. Easy, seeing as I wasn’t eating proper meals anyway. (Mum, pretend you didn’t read that.)

But the funk is debunked. I have gone back to work and I did two loads of washing, I ate cabbage for dinner (no, really. It’s pretty amazing. I’ll tell you about it soon) and I baked a cake.

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