Pear Frangipane Tart

Something is to be said about understated neutral flavours, the hint of vanilla and buttery sweetness. Autumn has come through, the wind is chillier than it was and the days are not so blue. What better way to welcome March than with a Pear Frangipane Tart? The Seasonal Food Guide of Australia agrees with me, although I am hung up about saying a temporary goodbye to my beloved stone fruits. I have been eating white peaches, nectarines, plums and apricots like nobody's business. Don't be surprised if you see a few straggling stone fruit recipes come through my blog as I attempt a last stab at savouring/worshipping them in pies and galettes. 

I really like this recipe - there is a strange sense of triumph in getting the pastry just the right sort of buttery, flakey goodness that is required. Moreover, it was much simpler than I thought it would be. Pears are often the neglected fruit, lagging behind apples and bananas (and mangos in my honest opinion - I could eat two in one sitting if not for the damn cost of them!), in shopping basket popularity competitions. 

If you were to compare Beurre Bosc pears to Packham pears, Beurre Bosc pears are the attractive older sister that deserves more than just a lunchbox snack. They're a gorgeous golden green colour and are somewhat sexy. Peeled and poached in a concoction of sugar and vanilla water, you may be tempted to just eat these crisp slices without the tart. They're infused with vanilla and I find not using almond extract here allows you to savour the pear for its natural flavours. 

I have realised that I need a stand mixer and all of its artillery more than ever, as my little ten year old 350 watt Braun multimixer still leads to sore arms and inhibits my ability to multitask or move around the kitchen. If you're not a poor, unfortunate soul like me and do own a stand mixer, by all means use that and pulse, not beat, the pastry.

This recipe was adapted from Food 52, Fork to Belly and From the Kitchen's Pear and Almond Frangipane Tart. You can use the same recipe and swap out the fruits and create a nectarine, blueberry or even apple frangipane. Pear Frangipane is delicious served with a generous dollop of cream or a single scoop of vanilla bean ice cream. That deliciously sinful choice is all yours to make.

Recipe

Poached Pears

5  cups of water (or enough to cover the pears completely)
1  cup of sugar
1  tbsp vanilla extract
3  firm Beurre Bosc pears
peel of 1 lemon or half an orange
(Optional: 3 star anise, 2 cinnamon quills, 1/2 tbsp of almond extract)

1. Combine all ingredients except for pears in medium-large pot. Bring to a boil.
2. Peel the pears, remove the core and slice into eighths. Add slices to boiling water. 
3. Blanch for 10 - 12 minutes over medium-high heat, or until pears are soft but retain structure. Remove pears with slotted spoon and transfer to deep bowl. 
4. Take water off the heat and pour it over the pears until completely covered (this helps to get rid off excess heat from the pot). Let pears cool to room temperature before removing. 
5. Once cool, strain and dry pear slices with paper towels. Replace with fresh towels once damp to remove as much excess water as possible. This will prevent a soggy tart. 

Pastry

1 1/2 cups plain flour
1 /3  cups icing sugar
1/2   tsp salt
125  grams butter (approx 9 tbsp)
1      egg yolk
2      tbsp cold water

1. Combine the flour, sugar and salt. Mix well.
2. Add the butter and beat until mixture resembles large crumbs.
3. Add egg yolk and beat until combined.
4. Beat in cold water until dough starts to pull together.
5. Fold and kneed the dough with either your hands, or a cake spatula.
6. Press dough into buttered tart pan.
7. Put tart into freezer for half an hour to chill.
8. Pre-heat oven at 160 degrees fan forced or 180 degrees conventional, and bake tart for 10 - 12 minutes, until lightly golden. Set aside to cool. 

Frangipane

100 grams butter (approx 7 tbsp)
1/2  cup castor sugar
2     eggs
2/3  cup ground almonds
1/3  cup plain flour
icing sugar/powdered sugar for dusting

1. Beat the butter until light and creamy.
2. Add sugar into the butter mixture and beat until well combined and the butter turns a shade lighter.
3. Add in eggs one at a time, beating well.
4. Fold in the almond meal and flour until fully combined with a cake spatula.
5. Fill the cooled tart shell with mixture. Spread evenly.
6. Arrange poached pears evenly in a circular direction, pressing down to adhere them to the frangipane.
7. Bake for 35 - 40 minutes at 160 degrees Fan-forced or 180 degrees conventional, until browned slightly.
8. Cool completely and dust with icing sugar.
9. Serve with cream or ice cream.

Enjoy!

Petition

A revamp of the old Treasury Buildings saw a welcoming of new and interesting places to eat. The building is itself gloriously restored, a work of which took years to finish. Now filling the once dormant halls is Petition Kitchen. Petition has left quite a statement on the State Buildings, with its kitchen providing clean and simple dishes while its beer, bar and wine merchant meets the needs of sommeliers and those that are in search for a good drink. 

At the helm is head chef Jesse Blake, heralding from Cumulus Inc. Having had eaten at Cumulus some years ago, I can say there's definitely elements of Blake's time there reflected in the open kitchen, the plating and the choice of ingredients. It's a share your plates with your friends kind of modern bistro... and after all 'good food is all the sweeter when shared with good friends'.

The interior is classy in that re-purposed way. The semi plastered and unfinished painted walls ground what would otherwise be a perceived as a pretentious restaurant. Exposed Edison globes hang low from the ceiling in lines. You can sit at long tables or down the dining hall, intimate in some places and exposed in others. I can almost see the soon to be regulars picking out their favourite place along the hall and resting there with a good cup in the day, or gathering around a table for dinner after having visited Petition Beer Corner for Friday night drinks.

The common colour scheme throughout Petition is made up of beige, black and white, with blue and orange surges from the stovetop in the kitchen. All other colours are served on your plate.

We appreciated the help our waitress provided, pointing out which items on the menu were popular and which were ones to save for the next visit if so inclined. She was no fuss and honest, recommending us the chorizo and morcilla hash. She wasn't wrong when she said it was the best thing on the menu for breakfast.

For all the simplicity in the ingredients, it was tasty and not a dish that I regretted ordering. The bulk of the flavour is delivered in the chorizo while the gooey and golden yolk adds to the texture. The crispy bacon plays salty, smokey umpire between the two. 

Pikelets, grilled peach, ricotta, blackberry and burnt honey ($15.00)

The pikelets were small, soft and simple, dusted with icing sugar. It had been so long since I had last had pikelets that choosing it was almost a knee-jerk reaction in order to savour my childhood breakfast habits. The blackberry and burnt honey provided an infusion of deep flavours, with the cream beneath the grilled peaches breaking up the acidity. Although a little unimaginative, the food was still enjoyable. 

Stracciatella, roast mushrooms, warrigal greens (New Zealand Spinach) on toast ($19.00)

The toast had some nice flavours and there was no denying the freshness of the mushrooms. The warrigal greens were not as bitter as English spinach and nor did they leave a starchy aftertaste in your mouth, which I thought was a great plus - however I was left feeling slightly underwhelmed. 

While the rack with baked treats at the counter were pretty and inviting, the cost of coffee accompaniments were quite expensive for what you got. The food isn't overtly unique or experimental (nothing you won't know - toast is toast after all) but are instead representations of Blake's childhood favourites. There's something special about that.

Grilled chorizo, morcilla hash, fried egg and bacon ($19.00)

Petition exhibits great flavour profiles and their use of the freshest locally sourced ingredients is commendable, however on this particular visit I was left feeling as though I had paid to enjoy the fit out more than the food. I have been told that for dinners most restaurant goers are swept away on the tastebud train, so perhaps it's worth skipping breakfast (on this occasion) and going straight to dinner!

Since eating breakfast here in December, Petition have added more interesting options on the breakfast, lunch and dinner menu while revising popular dishes with ingredients that remain in season. I hope to make it back to Petition and the gorgeous State Buildings very soon, particularly with the opening of the new library throwing a little bit of excitement for booklovers like me, into the mix. 

Address:
State Buildings, Corner of St George's Terrace and Barrack Street
Opening hours:
Monday to Friday 7am - 11pm
Saturday and Sunday 8am - 11pm

Cafe Cre Asion

Sydney. Iris. A girl after my own heart when it comes to food, literature, hidden cafes. As expected, the weekend was awash with delicious new discoveries, walks for hours and hours, the sharing of breakfasts and the snapping of photographs. Cloudy Sydney with its temperamental weather couldn't keep us from visiting Cafe Cre Asion, tucked away in the neighbourhood of Surry Hills. The cafe is located in a completely unsuspecting street with tables and chairs skirted around outside. At first glance, it doesn't seem like much but it's when you enter that you are truly charmed by this small cafe. 

The cafe came to be about five years ago and was opened up by a restaurant owner from Japan. It is therefore no surprise that they specialise in matcha-based dishes. Nor is it a surprise that they beautifully capture the astringency of this magical tea leaf or its subtle taste, especially when the tea is sourced from Shimane Prefecture in Japan. Cafe Cre Asion will not disappoint.

Although the seating was limited and resembled small children's chairs (you'll find that your knees are the same height as the table), being seated quite close to other people has proven a surprise. A Japanese man seated next to me in blue parker sipped on what appeared to be what was left of his matcha latte. Soon after, he cleared his throat and struck up conversation. He turned out to be a friend of the owner. He told us how he was running an udon restaurant a few blocks away and invited us for a visit. 

With us he shared his friend's vision to re-create a quaint, simple and earnest Japanese-fusion cafe that brought to Sydney a small snippet of the best of Japan's cakes. Although the owner was incredibly popular and highly ranked on Zomato, it meant long hours and constantly in the kitchen helping to create breakfast and sweets for hungry Sydneysiders. 

There is limited seating inside, and I would recommend selecting  your seat and saving it, as people flow in swiftly and although you may feel a little bad for hanging around when lines get long, others eat at their leisure and you may find yourself having to swap your dine in for a take away. While you wait you can stare and be tempted by a beautiful display cabinet of macarons, matcha and red azuki bean muffins and swiss rolls. Behind the glass and the counter, you can watch the staff freshly bake the cafe's cakes, working hard to bring together plates of toasted bread and bowls of matcha latte. The macarons are interesting flavours, pulling together Japanese influences of yuzu, flavours of chai tea, popcorn and others of cassis. 

House made whole grain sourdough toast with avocado and swiss brown mushrooms ($10.00, $3.00 for add on of mushroom)

Sourdough with caramelised fuji apple, ricotta cheese and organic wild honey ($9.00)

As a lover of mushrooms, Iris chose to have a savoury breakfast to be followed by a sweet ending. The mushrooms and avocado were additions to the whole grain sourdough toast. The organic wild honey topped off the sweetness of the apple through the creamy ricotta cheese in my selection. The sourdough, although light on the inside, was tough to chew when it came to the crust. Apart from the bread, I enjoyed the combination of flavours.

A few slices through and I was already quite full and mixed it up with the kinako mochi. The kinako mochi was mellow and cooling, reflecting a small kakigori or shirokuma with its slices of fuji apple and snow like ice shavings. One to be eaten while cold and not melted, that's for sure. 

Kinako mochi, roasted green tea jelly, red beans and kuromitsu syrup ($9.50) and chai latte, yuzu and lemonade, lychee and raspberry macarons ($3.00ea)

The matcha latte comes in what many are uncertain of being a cup or a bowl, but nevertheless is accepted with open hands. Smooth, creamy and green liquid gold sits unwaveringly. Best served hot, for those that are new to matcha and green tea it may be a bit more bitter than expected. Super creamy and not overly thick or strong, it was probably one of the best matcha latte's I've had in Australia.

Matcha latte ($5.00)

Matcha chocolate fondant, summer berries and matcha cream ($8.50)

As far as I am concerned, the matcha fondant is no doubt the cafe's signature dish. The centre is gooey, the matcha spills out as you break the cake and the astringent taste melds well with the chocolate cake. The cake is warm and comforting, the fondant's consistency being something many cafes and restaurants find hard to achieve. The berries add a sweetness and there's even additional matcha cream you can pour over your fondant with carelessness. Dare I say it, it's better than Nobu Perth's recently attributed matcha fondant dessert menu item, and for a third of the price.

I will give Cafe Cre Asion another visit on my next trip to Sydney, although I may leave room in my stomach to try out a few more macaron flavours and see how their matcha swiss roll compares to my own. Don't be surprised if you see me indulging myself in a matcha fondant and a large bowl of their ridiculously fulfilling matcha latte, all for one.

Miss Potz - Asian Fusion Perth

Trying to decide on where to go for dinner has gotten harder and harder. Admittedly this may be due to the number of new and exciting restaurants hitting the food scene in Perth. Originally for the swapping of embarrassing travel stories, sharing of bad photographs and general post holiday catch up, Lyvia and I were intending to visit somewhere cheap and casual. We had chosen to visit Goreng in Mt Lawley for a no fuss cheap eat, but the next day Lyvia suggested Miss Potz, a new Asian Fusion Restaurant that she just happened to walk past. We're both glad she did.

Thai Milk Tea ($5.00) and Fresh Coconut  Water ($6.00)

Thai Red Duck Curry has easily become a favourite. There is something about succulent roast duck that instantly entices your tastebuds. As if it didn't have enough power to cause your mouth to water, once confronted with the sight of it bathed in a spicy, creamy and red curry sauce there is no controlling your gustatory senses. 

Thai red curry paste is incredibly fragrant, and when mixed with peanut oil, fish sauce and creamy coconut it is a powerful olfactory stimulator. It also makes the perfect base for a Thai Red Duck Curry. What is so charming about the Red Duck Curry at Miss Potz are not only the colours of the core ingredients but the attention to detail in the plating and the delivery of flavour.  

A wonderfully cooked leg of duck sits atop fresh sliced pineapple and bamboo shoots as the odd bean and sweet lychee skirt around the duck. Sliced cherry tomatos and slivers of red chilli contrast against the curry sauce while coriander and Thai basil finish off the show. 

Duck Red Curry ($32.00)

The duck meat is itself tender, pulling apart and falling off the bone in a spectacular fashion. With each liberated piece of meat becoming coated in the curry sauce, you can't help but lap it all up again. The pineapple was sweet, the chilli adding heat and the curry paste providing a definitive but not overly powerful kick to plain rice. Which is how it should be served. Rice is served as part of the dish, not as an add on to be paid for separately. With our three dishes, we could barely finish all of the rice for two. 

Soft-shell Crab Papaya Salad ($16.00)

The tanginess and tartness of the house pickled papaya and green mango salad bode really well with the crunchy softshell crab. The salty batter of the crab collected in little crumbled as we broke the crab into pieces. While the pomegranate added a pop of pink and another little pocket of tang, I felt that the dish was missing something.

The flavours of the dressing with the salad was well rounded, but something was missing in the salad. It was not only until leaving did I realise the papaya salad was missing buttery and salty peanuts which would have added to the dish. Although many other crab som tum include beans, I didn't mind that this rendition did not include them as it was refreshing and mild. The light salad broke up some of the heat of the curry when we needed it. 

Chicken wings and drumsticks were coated in a sticky Vietnamese-style caramel sauce, packing a little bite and acidity. This savoury caramel sauce comprised mainly of fish sauce, sugar and ginger made the chicken wings addictive morsels of sweet and sticky delight. Although Lyvia was slouched in her chair with her hand on her stomach that was epitome of a satisfied full person, a quick glance at the remaining piece of chicken overpowered her stomach situation. The chicken wings were that good. 

Unexpectedly we received an order of satay skewers. After taking a quick snap or two, we let the staff know they had been sent to us accidentally. They were then reunited with their rightful owners and although Lyvia and I did not get to try the satay (nor could we have as we had eyes on dessert and limited stomach space at that point in time) the couple that had ordered them seemed quite happy with the skewers. 

I had been craving mango for the past three weeks, so much so that I began dreaming of them. It had gotten to the point where all I did was talk about mangos and how much I craved mango and sticky rice. It was by pure coincidence that Miss Potz had mango and sticky rice on the menu and in no way was I disappointed. 

Black glutinous rice sat beckoning on a banana leaf, while vanilla bean icecream melted under the cubed sweet and tangy mango. The caramel sauce was something else. It froze hard on the ice cream but remained syrupy on the banana leaf. The further you broke down the cold caramel, the more you tasted the fine grains on your tongue that left a slightly burnt sugar aftertaste. It was a welcoming flavour.

What we were most impressed with was the vanilla icecream, sliding our spoon through the little ball, we could see the remnants of vanilla bean, knowing that it was not just vanilla essence providing the smooth and sultry taste to the Sticky Mango dessert. The vanilla ice cream made another appearance with the banana frittas dessert. The frittas themselves were coated in a thin and crispy batter that held the pocketfuls of soft and hot banana well. It is an instant comfort evoking dessert.

The food at Miss Potz is delicious, flavoursome and relatively inexpensive. The staff are friendly and Yui was particularly lovely in making our night all the more enjoyable. She has recommended we try the mussels next time around so I dare say we will, considering she recommended the duck (melt in your mouth yumminess) and the chicken. Situated in the new Beaux Lane along Beaufort Street, give Miss Potz a go the next time you're wanting to try a little Thai or Asian fusion. 

Address: 
609 Beaufort Street, Mount Lawley (In Beaux Lane)
Opening hours:
Tuesday - Thursday: 5.30pm - 10pm
Friday - Sunday: 11.30am - 2.30pm, 5.30pm - 10pm

Devon Cafe

I admit I felt incredibly self indulgent the day I stepped out of Devon Cafe in Surry Hills. Little did I know upon entering that Devon was and is run by two ex-Guillaume chefs who left the fine dining scene to throw in a little more flair to the casual comfort food dishes on offer for breakfast and lunch. Since opening in 2014, it has won awards, been featured in Good Food Guide and as a general rule, is quite popular on Sydney Instagram feeds. 

The cafe staff were joking loudly to themselves, singing the choruses of pop songs (Bang Bang no less) with no problems but faltering and muttering when it came to the verses. Obvious slip ups of lyrics were followed by laughter. A guy with cool hair and a warm smile greeted me and showed me to the private courtyard of the cafe, where a few groups had gathered over coffee and breakfast backed by a graffitied wall and utilitarian style camouflage netting. 

As I was on my own and the staff had proven entertaining, I chose to sit at the long table at the front of the cafe, where natural light poured in over the long wooden table and the sound of bicycles and cars swooshed past on Devonshire Street outside. I watched as suppliers came through the cafe with boxes of flour, beans and milk, stocking up for the weekend. Regulars lining at the counter were asked what they wanted but it was clear that they always ordered the same to go. Flat white. Latte. Picturesque swans in a cup.

The same person that had greeted me earlier whose name I discovered was Calvin, swung by the table, handed me a menu and struck up conversation. "Have you eaten at Devon before?" No was my response but he continued with a smile. "Then if that is the case, I suggest you go with my personal favourite, the Cookies 'N Cream! It's just the right amount of sweetness, and it will fill you up. It's also really pretty. Don't look at the other items on the menu, unless you'd prefer something a little savoury in which case I'd recommend the Breakfast with the Sakuma's. But the Cookies 'N Cream will surprise you. Trust me." So I did. 

The staff struck up conversation and after spotting my camera, invited me to take photographs of the cafe, posing in a few of the shots only to realise I had been recording video footage. The laughter and slight embarrassment that ensued contributed to the atmosphere. Service was friendly, down to earth and attentive given the casual vibe of the cafe. The counter offered macarons, homemade ricotta, sticky fig and honey muffins in addition to savoury toast but I was drawn to the food menu.

Reading through the menu the items seemed hearty and oh so guilty. 63 degree egg? Fairy bread and fairy floss? Pork crackling and apple jus? Okay, if you insist. The menu is all day (or at least until 3pm when the kitchen closes) and each of the items blur the lines between breakfast, lunch and dessert. The hardest part is picking which dish to order. Once you have though, the category of food becomes an ignored technicality as you're too busy relishing the balance of sweet and tangy on your tastebuds to remember if it should even be classed as breakfast. 

A stack of purples, browns and pinks on a plate made its way from the kitchen to the empty space in front of me. It took a little while for me wrap my mind around the layered perfection and for a split second I wasn't sure if it was what I had ordered. Calvin walked past, signalled me with an A-ok sign and gloated at my reaction. I was then left to enjoy/pluck up the courage to break this cinnamon muesli based cookie with my fork. 

Although it was indulgent, Calvin was correct, it had just the right amount of sweetness. The structure of the cookie did not cause it to crumble into pieces once the fork divided it, instead it held its own. That didn't meant to say it was dry. The raspberry cream was smooth, light and tangy and if your tastebuds were tickled a little too much, the flavours could be adjusted with an introduction of the sweet droplets of strawberry gel. Finish with a bit of violet depth. 

Buttery feuilletine was crumbled into two chaotic piles on either side of the centrepiece, mixed in with purple, pink and gold sparkles for good measure. The fresh raspberries sat atop the dish in glory and were the last to go.  This quirky and colourful rendition of Cookies 'N Cream was so far removed from the typical associations of chocolate and vanilla. It further foregrounded the food on offer as unique and modern twists on the classic dish. 

On my next trip to Sydney, I'd be keen to re-visit Devon. Its seasonal menu makes it an attractive cafe haunt and the modern east meets west dishes on offer at its sister cafe Devon on Danks is equally as tempting. Did I also mention they have a Devon by Night? Too many options, not enough stomachs. 

76 Devonshire Street, Surry Hills
Sydney, NSW 2010

Only in Omotesando

It’s been a rush. A string of different events and a whirlwind of sights, colours, scents and emotions. Deadlines and commitments, wants and have to dos. My mind is filled with stories, snippets from the day and previews into other people’s lives. Images of places I’ve never been and photographs I am itching to take. Hours go by and ideas with them. This space provides the opportunity to create something out of a wistful fleeting moment, which I have increasingly failed to do.

Wandering around Omotesando on my own on the last day in Japan, I was reminded how beautiful it is to have that time to discover places and people. Various strings of events and encounters led me to discover something new about myself. Or perhaps I had reaffirmed it, that in my hurriedness, I wasn’t relishing my interactions as much as I should have been. Due to my constant strive for better, I had lost confidence in myself and instead I had constrained myself to a list of things to do, rather than heralding an awareness of what and whom I had around me and taking advantage of now. 

I walked down the quiet streets, my feet hitting the pavement in a rhythmic fashion, the occasional open and close of my shutter breaking the silence. It was during this time that I found myself watching the people in front of me in earnest.

Her long brown skirt flowed with each swift step around her ankles. An oversized deep blue coat draped around her shoulders and her cross bag with key chains of unfamiliar anime characters hit her side as she walked. He was wearing ripped black jeans, with one hand in his pocket and the other holding her shopping. They seemed an unlikely pair, but walked in step all the same. They appeared to be in their own little bubble, taking their time as other individuals scurried past them with their heads down.  

Salary men strode by with a briefcase in one hand and a phone gripped tightly in the other. Ladies and their daughters skipped past, their young girls rushing to window displays, pointing at the items only to be hurriedly tugged away by their mothers. In comparison the couple seemed quite at ease. Perhaps they had figured it all out. Their relaxed rhythm that had somehow entranced me dissipated as they stepped into a nearby shop.

It was then I remembered that I was by myself. I had no one to share a pastry with, no one to laugh at or talk to. For once in a long time, I didn’t have anywhere to be, no train to catch and no escalators to fall upwards on (yep, it happened). I had my own space and a table for one. As I stepped into Café Kitsune, the scent of coffee beans and green tea tickled my nose and the warmth from their heaters and steam from milk provided solace against the cold evening air. My eyes met with a lone woman seated near me. She gave me a knowing smile and resumed comfortably to reading her book. Surrounded by snippets of laughter, flowing drink and short lulls of conversation, the importance of being was more present than ever. 

It struck me then (and even now writing this) that space is precious. There’s nothing more important than being surrounded by the people that complement your nature and challenge you. Who are important to you and to whom you are important. Who build you up and make you rich in a way I can’t fully describe.

In a way that you are inspired and touched by a deep sharing and loving that can happen earnestly through discussions over nothing. Through support when you move away, the swapping of story books, through the belts of a pop song and squabbling over who will have the last slice of cake. Sharing bits and pieces of each other’s lives in small fragmented words and experiences.

My cup now empty, I made my way further into Omotesando. The quest for my second Sailor Moon phone cover had resumed. It was on the Snoopy Floor of Kiddyland that I encountered them. They were no older than sixteen. First loves. Fingertips touched as they both reached for the button to the elevator. The light indicated that I had only just pressed the same button moments before. That didn’t matter. They grew bashful at the touch. She quickly recoiled her hand and placed it hard at her side. Slowly, he let his fingers intertwine with hers loosely.

They snuck glances at each other, giggling nervously and I could not help but feel as if I was watching a drama take place before me, the scene they had been asked to act out was their first date. I half expected a director to pop out behind me, yell out “NG” (no good) and point at me to move out of the way as I would have been clashing with the scene in my sneakers, disheveled hair and backpack.

We crammed into the elevator like sardines, as it’s customary in Japan to squeeze in as many people as possible instead of waiting for the next one. The boy and girl only went up one floor before getting out together. It was that short interlude between floors that a little baby held in the arms of a father looked at the girl in wonder, smiled and clapped its hands in jittery, clunky movements.

The boy watched as the girl reached out her finger for it to hold. "Kawaii!" she exclaimed. I could see that the boy had decidedly fallen a little more for her after seeing her interaction, the look on his face giving it all away. As the lift pulled up to the floor, he composed himself and led her out of the elevator, this time his hand firmly around hers. I can only assume that in that moment he had seen what it would be like to be with her for years and years and he wasn’t going to let himself waste anymore time.

How could I have bear witness to this intimate moment between two strangers, and not know them after? I pondered this on my way to Aoyama Flower Market Tea House. What did that have to say about my own interactions with those close to my heart and the way I was spending my time? Maybe it was the lemongrass and the astringent but refreshing applemint that helped me realise this. Maybe it was the three friends seated next to me, talking vibrantly, occasionally throwing their arms to the sky as they illustrated their stories to each other. A chiming of glass and giggling flowing from their corner. 

The last few customers trickled out and the jingling of the bell atop the door interrupted my thoughts. I found myself running my hands over cup that had long been empty. Topping up the glass with what was left of the tea, I sipped at it gently. Satisfied, I made the walk back the station, successfully navigated the train line on my own and settled back in my apartment in Shibuya. I was alone for the rest of that night. 

I realised that although I am constantly cooking, baking and trying out new recipe books gifted by friends, I haven't had the courage to share them. Words and photographs of topics the world over, have accumulated into a pile of drafts in the sidebar for every instance I have been hesitant to press publish. In writing this, I’m slowly addressing what has become uncomfortable for me. Sharing snippets about myself in a more revealing manner through a style of writing that has not been expressed in so long and as a result is now quite foreign. 

That one long slow walk around a city (a city that has no qualms in demonstrating to me that I know less about it than I think I do) has made me appreciate travelling all the more. Through these encounters I have achieved a new sense of awareness and confidence, that it’s better to understand, appreciate and be content with the now, while pursuing purposeful things more than anything else.