when you leave a restaurant in Melbourne, stumbling, because you’ve just finished a four hour food safari and you’re experiencing the fortunately unforgettable feeling of being food drunk;
family reclining around your dining room table and taking a moment to think about the flavours their mouths are experiencing, the red wine mixed with veal stock, bay, thyme, butter, raspberry vinegar, crab apple jelly and a chocolate drop;
sitting in my bosses office, opposite her, with her saying, ‘oh my god,’ because she doesn’t know how to express herself as she tells you about this Chinese pork dish she made for dinner last night;
your lounge filled with women and tiny stands of miniature walnut caramel cream cupcakes and peanut butter chocolate cookies celebrating the much anticipated marriage of your best friend;
spending eight hours a day, five days a week in a kitchen with the same people prepping for the same customers and going home with only a desire to lean my legs up against a wall;
noises made over an assortment of roquefort, brie, goats cheese, real French baguette and butter and a carafe of côtes du rhône, because there no words to describe this feeling in your body at this moment;
five hours of entrée, main, dessert, cheese and wine while you watch the chefs in the kitchen they have just been cooking this four course meal from;
consuming a dessert of Ottolenghi’s apple maple cake, David Lebovitz’s butterscotch cream pie and an entire tub of Movenpick ice cream instead of dinner with your friend who just like you agrees with substitutes;
dreaming and journaling and creating and working and reading hundreds of chefs, all in the hopes of venturing more and more into this world that you have unexpectantly been filled with so much feeling for and that I have very naturally become to call;
Food.
And that is why I have created this space.
Because it all needs to be explored.
