The Land Sans The Long Black…

This morning I met up with an Aussie friend of mine for brunch. S travels a lot for work and since he has the next 2 weeks in London before his next round of jet-setting, we decided to grab the bull by the horns – so to speak – and catch up over some scrumptious vittels and good coffee at The Modern Pantry in Clerkenwell.

S and I used to work together and as such, he is a fellow afficionado of both the Melbourne coffee scene and that bastion of Italian yummy-ness, Lygon Street. Way back when we worked together, we were fortunate enough to share premises with the barista training school of a very well-known Italian coffee brand. As such, there was no schlepping around with freeze-dried instant or filter coffee for us. It was punchy espresso with gorgeous caramel-coloured crema, warm milky-smooth lattes and luscious foamy (not frothy people – there’s a world of difference) cappuccinos. Let me tell you, we knew our Robusta from our Arabica.

Then we came to London. And caffeine confusion reigned.

You see there are two types of coffee that are ubiquitous in the Land Down Under (and for that matter, in the Land of the Long White Cloud) but as rare as hen’s teeth in Ol’ Blighty. 

The first is the Flat White. It lies somewhere between a warm milky latte (a flat white has less milk and is served hot) and the foaming cappuccino (the flat white has less/no foam). It’s hard to find in London but with the likes of The Australian Times providing a handy list of good flat white-rs in London Town alongside a little Antipodean word-of-mouth, it’s possible. But most places here will translate the Flat White into a white coffee (a black coffee with cold milk), completely ignoring the craft of creating a steaming Long Black before adding a large dollop of warm milk.

Which brings me to my second point – the Long Black. In non-barista terms, it’s a shot of espresso poured into hot water to preserve the crema.

Simple right? Not nearly as complicated as the Flat White one would think.

But apparently so.

Just ask for a Long Black here and watch the bewilderment appear across the face of one’s waiter. Then try to explain it ie. a shot of espresso with hot water (and that’s not getting into the size of the cup it should come in). In most places, the response is ‘oh so you want a black coffee?’ No. Not if you are going to stick my cup under the coffee filter for 5 minutes.

Some will respond by correcting you calling it an Americano, grinning proudly at you as they successfully navigate the lingo of yet another of the half million or so Antipodean immigrants living in London. Well no actually – but at this stage, an espresso topped up with hot water is starting to sound like an acceptable (and considerably less stressful) compromise.

But all I really want is a proper Long Black. I want a lovely shot of espresso – that’s right, like you normally give one who orders an espresso – poured into the cup with hot water. Rich and smooth with a velvety crema. No bitterness, no acrid aftertaste. Understated yet still packing a caffeine punch.

Just like the one this morning.

Anna Hansen may have been ‘chef-fing’ all over the globe – and let me tell you the food was really, really good – but for the coffee alone , The Modern Pantry gets my vote.

Smooth, rich and velvety. Exactly the way I like it.

A Very Chicky Birthday

Today is Lil Chicky’s birthday.
So I thought I’d tell you a birthday story.
The first one was fraught with competitive friction.
This young whippersnapper had the front to question her big sister’s attempts at teaching birthday best practice
Her (L) and me (R)
 But it wasn’t long before she got the hang of it 
Sisterly pride in the background
And tried to muscle in
‘What’s the deal? It’s my birthday, not yours!’
So I had to re-assert my authority
Birthday territory re-established
And by the time we got to her 21st, we had learnt to share
21st birthday of Lil Chicky (in the green dress)
So we played happily together
Outside Flinders St Station in 2005
for ever
Anzac Day Match at the MCG 2007
 and ever
At Sand Sculptures in Frankston, December 2010
Happy Birthday Chicky!

A Tale of Two Cities…

It’s official. Melbourne, my home town, is the world’s most livable city.

The Economist Intelligence Unit’s 2011 Livability Ranking has placed Australia’s Melbourne city as the most livable city in the world, with a score of 97.5. Austria’s Vienna and Canada’s Vancouver were ranked on the second and third places respectively among 140 cities. Source: www.economist.com

For those of you who haven’t been to Melbourne and are wondering why it won, here are a few snaps from my trip last Christmas.


Melbourne City View from South Bank (January 2011)
Eureka Tower at South Bank – a new addition since my last visit
The Palais at St Kilda – and that’s Luna Park in the background
Mentone Beach – lying on a beach towel (it was 26C and deserted, far too cold for the locals!)

There were also a few fond memories that the locals are likely to appreciate a little more than your average tourist:

Hamer Hall? The Greatest Show On Earth?  What a tribute!
Love is in the Air – The Myer Melbourne Christmas Windows featured The Nutcracker Suite last year
The best chips on the planet (yes chips, not crisps..bloody Poms!) – Burger Rings and Twisties!

But those of you who read my meanderings regularly, or know me well, know how much I love London:

Harrods from the top deck of the number 14 bus, a regular drive-by after a night out on the town
Tower of London – it was just there for the taking
View of the Thames from Putney Bridge (from another bus)
Richmond Park – splendor in the grass and right next door
Another delicate sunset – from the front window of my flat
The ice and snow last December – from my (then) office building
Footprints in the snow – where I’ve been

So in the livability stakes, it’s a tale of two cities for me.

The first is the one left behind laced with nostalgic and happy rememberings. 

And the second is the one where I am quietly proud of the new life I have built for myself. The one where, despite it’s lower ranking, I feel like I’ve come home.

Hot To Trot…Maybe Not

Well, here we are at the 10th of April already, we have just enjoyed two weeks of glorious weather here in Ol’ Blighty and there’s been a whole lot of blue skies, sunshine, short sleeves and bare legs around.

Sitting at my front window watching my washing drying happily (bet you didn’t know washing could be happy) and listening to the birds singing and the bees bouncing (there is a massive hairy bee trying to get in through my closed window – right next to the open door – he’s not the sharpest tool in the shed, this bee), I wondered how my kith and kin were faring on the under other side of the world.  Facebook updates of late have not been full of sunshine to say the least.

Upon investigation (it’s Sunday and I am avoiding ironing by finding such things as this to keep me ‘busy’), I have discovered that Melbourne (where I hail from) is looking forward to drizzle and a top temperature of 17C…it is April and my home-town is about halfway through its Autumnal segue into Winter so this is not unexpected.

But London’s temperatures have soared (okay so I use the term a little loosely) into the 20s this week and this unexpected burst of ‘hot’ weather not only upset my ‘what-to-wear-to-work’ planning (summer-y items get packed away for the Winter – much like a family of bears – in a suitcase or in the ironing – not the bears you understand, they are probably in a cave somewhere) but also played havoc with yesterday’s Grand National field at Aintree

Today we are set to reach 19C (and 21C tomorrow)…

– which is more than Melbourne…and Adelaide…and Canberra! And is alarmingly close to Sydney’s 22C…

Truly a moment for we Aussies (from those southern states anyway) to savour…

Until it all comes to a screeching halt on Tuesday with a forecast top of 12C…hmmm perhaps I’ll wait a little longer to unpack/iron those summer threads.