One Man Coffee

Where do I even begin.

I kind of wish to keep this place a secret. Is that ok? Ever since I first heard about it and saw some rather moreish pictures on Instagram, I was ready to make a short visit, a hasty pop-by, and now I find myself there at least once or twice a week after school. Yeah. Just because it’s become an absurd necessity to be part of that coffee situation when my head’s reduced to mud after the constant clashing of school happenings, and this place is like my quantum of solace, a place where I can simply sit down, enjoy great coffee and some bloody good pastry, collect my thoughts, and study. And a special address to Sarah, the lovely, bubbly, and if I say so myself, supremely talented barista who works here!

But you know, evidently, I love this place, and it does deserve some publicity. I always give out an inner squeal whenever I approach its humble sign, like a little elf beckoning me to come in, pay for something, anything.

Processed with VSCOcam with f2 preset — Pear Crumble Danish– $4.50

These were the first things I ever got from this baby hole-in-the-wall. Before I ramble, I should just like to say that this is a completely honest review, and in all honesty, I should like for this to be less of a typical review, because it’s so much more than a flurry of descriptive words and images. It’s utterly won me over and I daresay a ‘review’ just won’t cut it.

The piccolo was a little more on the milky side, though the beans shone through beautifully nonetheless. I took home that gorgeous salted caramel danish, and hurriedly toasted it. Unsurprisingly, and I should’ve seen it coming, the ooey belly of the danish, that rich, dripping salty, caramelly goodness started seeping out like blood from someone’s side. Oops. But messy was good, and good it was. No, spectacular. It was a little limp, with the flakes and layers not yielding a good enough crust, but only because it was not as fresh as it probably was when first baked (they get their goods from local French bakery B.A.O.). The fluffy and genuine salty character of that caramel is laudable. That is exactly what salted caramel should taste like; not the half-assed salt you usually get.

The pear crumble danish is a beauty, and was magnificent after being toasted for a minute. The pastry in both danishes is lovely and buttery, complementing the filling of either salt or sweet. The pear was soft, almost like the chunks you might find in a fruit compote.Pale, tender, with a little give. A slightly more robust texture would be more befitting, but it did my soul good. The crumble topping crisped up nicely when toasted, and went nicely with that dusting of icing sugar (which, surprisingly, held together even after my half-hour rocky trudge home).

The glug of rich chocolate syrup. It hit my throat before the cool milk, and then everything else fell into place. Did I mention it’s worth the price. Pretty tall glass, if you ask me. I planned on getting it when I saw it at someone else’s table the first time I went and was struggling to contain the green-eyed monster. The syrup is drizzled all round the sides of the glass, and slowly starts to integrate with the frigid milk to form a refreshing chocolate drink. So it’s chocolate+milky caffeine, then an enhancement of those two separate flavours as they meld into one another. After this, I came to the ecstatic, enlightening conclusion that this is my new favourite café.

Brioche french toast with cream, berry compote and candied walnuts– $10

You ALL know. How much my love for french toast consumes all darned sense and sensibility on my part. I admit, I wrote a whole journal entry on how much I loved this. Guys, I’ve tried a LOT of french toast. And this is probably one of, if not the, best. I say it myself, right here, right now. All hail the glory of this one, thick slice of sweet brioche french toast. Dripping in sweet whipped cream, apple compote, sugar on sugar, and then you get the lightly burnt aroma of candied walnuts on top- toasted, petite, delightful little things. Ashy rainfall on this snowy bed of cream. My hands were shaking because every bite was just so exciting and mesmerising. It was hard to contain myself in public, ok. I wanted to shout the wonders of this small piece of toast, saturated, jaw-aching in the best possible way. The outside glistened with the gentle sear of a hot pan, the inside beckoned with its bouncy, foamy, eggy intensity, whilst being perfectly aerated at the same time. The butter caressed every crevice of the light-as-air brioche, enhancing the gorgeous craters locked on its surface.

The sweet cream and jam does get a tad overwhelming at times, so a few bites later the brioche goes from a light snowflake to a dense-bellied, cream-stuffed ball. I’m not complaining, though. I quite like it that way, though a slightly staler loaf or lesser cream would’ve sufficed. Those without my sweet tooth better take it easy. The amount of jam was perfect, thick and interspersed with large chunks of sweet apple. I could go on and on. Love of my life.

Scone with butter (or cream, if you wish) and apple jam– $4.50

The scone is on the slightly denser side, but bore a good and heavy butter flavour, almost lightly salted, which made the additional butter (yeah, I can be a bit excessive) and the glorious apple jam perfect to spread on top. I think choosing the cream would have made it even better. Warm, English comfort. It almost brought me back to the time I first tried a scone when I was living in London and my mother gave me a chunk, which I reluctantly accepted. I think everyone can agree that carbs are quite beautiful..?

Their espresso is acidic, which is to my taste, but not so to quite a many other. Down a shot for a morning or late afternoon perk.

So um, secret’s out.

One Man Coffee

215R Upper Thomson Road

Open daily 9am-5pm (closed Tuesdays)

6456 1555

Posted on March 18, 2014February 21, 2022 by alexcrumb 1

Tuna mash and poached egg on toast

I threw some random things together that day. I was extremely skeptical about the flavour combination, but this worked perfectly and served to annihilate some grogginess, pre-coffee works, of course. I needed an egg, a sharp crunch of bread to be the bed of a multitude of flavours, something a little thick- a more savoury spread of sorts. This is so simple.

Ingredients

one thick slice of good sourdough or raisin bread (this was plain rye sourdough)
1 fresh egg
2 teaspoons white vinegar
For the side salad: simple salad mix of whatever you may, washed and tossed in reduced balsamic lemon vinaigrette made with balsamic, lemon juice and olive oil. Amount of salad mix you wish to use is completely up to you. I used about a half cup.
For tuna mash: 1 can tuna packed in water, quarter cup canned corn, 1 tablespoon mayonnaise, 1 tablespoon greek yoghurt, half tablespoon Dijon mustard and lashings of pepper.
small handful cherry tomatoes, sliced in half
2 baby radishes
pinch of chilli flakes

Directions

Toast bread of choice. A little burnt is okay. Medium burnt will pass. Me? I practically go for carcinogenic. Kill me whenever.
Poach your egg: Crack fresh egg into a small bowl. Fill a deep saucepan 3/4 full of water and let come to a boil. Reduce to a simmer, add vinegar and make small whirlpool. Slowly add your egg and continue swirling with slotted spoon. I just used a normal spoon because the slotted spoon I had on hand didn’t look clean enough to use and I was merely too lazy to go ALL the way to the sink and do more washing. Actual problems of a lazy teenage breakfast aficionado. It’s quite tragic. Anyways, wait for around 3 minutes before taking out your beautiful poached baby.
In the meantime, toss tuna and corn mash ingredients together in a small bowl. Take two tablespoons of mixture and liberally coat toast, or however much you want, really. Reserve the rest in the fridge for future use. Lick the spoons each time.
Remove egg from water- test it first by poking its belly with your finger. There should be a slight wobble, neither too floppy or firm.
Thinly slice baby radishes and add to the salad. Place poached egg on toast and whip out your pepper cracker and chilli flakes. Do what you’re meant to do.
Marvel at how pretty it looks.
Slice, eat, pore over the papers and pour some coffee.
Enjoy that sort of morning while it lasts.

Posted on March 4, 2014February 21, 2022 by alexcrumb 3

Ricotta Pancakes

This, dear foodies, takes 10 minutes to make, and just a little longer to cook. Dead. Easy.

A few people have requested this recipe, so I’ll quickly post it to prevent any unwanted snags at my feet a little later. The thing is, I never make pancakes a whole lot, which probably sounds like sacrilege to most. I then came across the quaintest, most moreish-looking recipe for lemon ricotta hot cakes on the website whiteonricecouple.com, in other words the most beautfiful food photography blog ever? And ok, I actually came across it two months ago. So yes, it’s been a whole two months before I decided to whisk some butter and sugar together for the sake of following it. God, it’s a beaut. I followed the original recipe once, but the second time I made a few adjustments.

These hotcakes, or mini silver dollar pancakes if you will, are oddly tender due to the quick-whisked egg whites in the batter (don’t fret! This part takes 30 seconds at most! I swear my life on it) and whole-milk ricotta and milk. Yes, you need good, whole milk for this. None of the almond or soy stuff, no matter how nourishing that feels later on. It’s a Sunday.

Ricotta Pancakes (serves 2-3)

Ingredients:

2/3 cup all-purpose flour
2.5 tablespoons sugar
0.5 teaspoon salt
0.5 teaspoon vanilla extract
0.5 teaspoon nutmeg/cinnamon
0.5 tablespoons baking powder (I like decimal places, if you cannot already tell)
1.25 cup whole milk ricotta
0.5 cup milk
2 eggs, separated into yolks and whites
butter for cooking

Procedure:

In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour, sugar, salt, nutmeg/cinnamon (I didn’t have fresh nutmeg so I just used cinnamon) and baking powder for at least 30 seconds.
Separate the eggs and put whites aside.
In a medium bowl containing the egg yolks you just extracted from those beautiful fresh eggs you just cracked, whisk in the ricotta, milk and vanilla extract. Lots of vanilla. Yum yum.
Immediately fold the dry ingredients in and do NOT overmix. Mix until just combined and set aside.
Whisk the egg whites by hand until foamy. I urge you to do it by hand because this step takes no time at all and why would I want you to whip out those dreaded electronic whisks for extra cleaning later on? Come on now.
Pour the translucent whites into the batter you set aside and mix until just combined once more. Don’t be thorough with this batter, it does its job when you’re more laid back.
Cook on a medium hot pan with a thin film of unsalted butter. It takes around 2 minutes a side. Flip when you see mini bubbles forming on the surface.
Serve with butter and maple syrup (smashed berries and jam if you want) because that’s all you really need for this darn brilliant recipe.
Take a fork, cut a nice triangle in the stack, or of two if you’re polite, and enjoy with a cup of good coffee.
Make a mental note to make these again in the near future.

Posted on March 2, 2014February 21, 2022 by alexcrumb 0

Champignon cheese and roasted grape tartine

Right so, before I dive into my mountain of work, I just want to share this little 10-minute recipe with you. Last night, as I was hovering over the theories of pKa and pKb of acid base equilibria, I felt the need to enliven my hardened, stout mouth with something sweet. I always have frozen grapes in the freezer, so I reached for a small bowl of those. I then wondered if I could manipulate these little babies and turn them into a beauteous element in my breakfast the next day, since Saturdays are pretty much the only time I get to experiment in the kitchen, and get together with my best friend Connor, or in real words my Nikon. What to do? Grilled cheese perhaps. I could’ve, you know. But I felt it a bit too stereotypical and I didn’t think we had the right sort of aged cheddar or taleggio around. Then I remembered my dear mother having bought me that enigmatic flat stump of.. what was it? Something with mushrooms. Something with cheese, akin to the texture of brie. Behold, this was born. And please. I had the best bread lying around.

Champignon Cheese and roasted grape tartine

Ingredients

crimson grapes
one slice good sourdough or raisin walnut bread
champignon cheese spread (may be substituted with ricotta or even melted sharp cheddar. Anything goes really.)
coarse sea salt and olive oil
balsamic glaze
honey or maple syrup
1 tsp chia seeds (opt)

Steps

Preheat oven to 200oC. Roast two handfuls of grapes with sea salt and olive oil for 10 minutes (mine were done and went delicious and bubbly after 7, so just keep an eye on your oven).
Toast bread of choice. Spread on champignon cheese and if you want, season with a pinch of salt.
Take grapes out of oven, spoon on top of cheese. If you are using green grapes, add a layer of beetroot orange relish first, to add some flavour and colour contrast.
Drizzle liberally with honey (I used orange blossom here), chia seeds and balsamic glaze.

You’re welcome.

Posted on February 8, 2014February 21, 2022 by alexcrumb 0

Baker and Cook

Right. So. Baker and Cook. You know that feeling you get when you finally get to try some place that’s parading its raved goods everywhere on social media? Yeah, I got that feeling. Even when I stepped into the original, tiny (that beats the word minuscule, mind you) location at 77 Hillcrest Road, really near the pizza place I used to drag my parents along to as a kid. The place reeked of my childhood food memories. You walk in and there’s literally one big table, just one, aside from the two stools next to the window and a small outdoor table for two. That’s it? I thought. I have really got to learn how not to have such high expectations of everything. I was underestimating the untold grandeur of bread-crazed homies.

The place is named an artisan bakery, and I’ve tried a range of their goods, from their lamingtons to their famed carrot cake. Almost everything except the infamous, devilish, apparently ‘The Best’ lemon tart in town. Well of course i had to get it, for their wasn’t any other choice. Correction: I made my mother pay, since she surprised me with this morning trip anyway. Family benefits. I won’t complain. Oh right, I should also mention that it’s $4.95.

Verdict? Ok so, I cut it in half first, before forking a sliver and easing it a nice bit of curd and crust ever so delicately into my tentative mouth. I let the lemon coat the front half of my tongue, relished the sweetness, the tart stickiness, before coming to the realisation: It’s a tad too sweet. The crust too, I confirmed, as I continued the forking action. Not that I didn’t enjoy it. In fact, I could even say I thoroughly enjoyed it. But this, my friend, is not the best. Add one more lemon in whatever curd batter you’re churning, mate. And the crust could be on the lighter side of sweet, just to enhance the tingling tartness of a traditional lemon tart.

Iced cappuccino– $4.50+$0.50

French toast (New!- Yes, that’s how they said it, with the exclamation mark)–$16.00

Oh my goodness, this french toast. Penchants run deep, so despite spotting words like ‘pancakes’ and ‘eggs benedict’ and ‘quiche’, all I could see was the golden arched halo above the ‘french toast’, and its winning description. Yes, it’s 16 bucks for some stranger, from me to him, oh happy guy, but this was anything but 16 bucks down the drain. Homemade brioche, dipped in lightly spiced egg custard, served with fresh fruit, maple syrup, lemon curd and mascarpone, and oh, for the heck of it, let’s sprinkle on tablespoons of icing sugar and toasted almonds. Now do you see why it’s 16. To further my point, the plate was around 10 inches wide. No food joke. It was an egg monster waiting to be gobbled up by another egg monster, if you know what I mean. The brioche was nicely thick and browned, holey enough to soak up all that spiced custard (mm, cinnamon and ginger), with the sides calling out to me with leftover, curly bits of egg batter, which you could tell was eggy enough due to it’s almost-fried-egg consistency. And I liked that. That rustic factor. Who cares if there’s a bit of twisted, dried egg batter at the sides? If anything, it was rather inconspicuous. The taste made up for every possible flaw that might have been there and gone unnoticed.

And you know, they’re actually geniuses for adding the lemon curd and mascarpone. Absolute geniuses. I hope you can observe my enthusiasm for lemon and how perfectly it went with the thick and wonderful toast in the picture right above. I’ve made my own lemon curd before, and I must say this one was up a notch on the thick and gluggy scale. Colour beckoned, taste was banal after a while. That was the thing with all the lemon dishes there. Just that bit too sweet. The syrup was also a little more like honey, and more fruit wouldn’t hurt. The mascarpone was a nice touch but looked shallow in comparison to the better lemon-and-french pairing. God, I love lemons. I love french toast even more, and I say that proudly when I look at that picture- moist, airy, fluffy french brioche smushed together with curd.

Eggs Benedict– $19.00 (two poached eggs on toasted pain miche with hollandaise and hint of balsamic glaze and chilli oil, with salmon)

The balsamic glaze and chilli oil thing they had going on intrigued me. I watched my mother attach the crusty, heady plate of lavishly decorated eggy goodness with her knife and fork, mixing everything together into a hurricane of hollandaise and salmon madness. You see the crust? That was a babe, a real sight to behold. The crack was enticing, the melding together of more savoury flavours pleading. A bite was all I asked, and that was all I got. Felt the tang of the hollandaise and robust crunch of pain miche coat the salmon, that fishy flavour you first detect on your palate, with buttery breadcrumbs, cut in half like a fierce interjector by the softly sweet balsamic, even though amounts-wise it was rather paltry. The balsamic I mean, not anything else, Oh no, definitely not anything else. I wouldn’t have been able to polish off more than I slice of this rustic rye for the life of me (but that’s just me and my putrid stomach acting up again).

Fabulous.

This artisan bakery also sells homemade packaged products, loaves (I should die to try their fig and aniseed sourdough and wholemeal farmhouse toast), cakes and sweet buns. Tucked away in Hilcrest meant the most unusual peaceful and green morning for the mother and I. Thanks for paying, mother, let’s go back again so I can try their tartines?

Rating: 3.9/5.0

Baker and Cook

77 Hillcrest Road

64698834

Posted on February 1, 2014February 21, 2022 by alexcrumb 0

alexcrumb

recipes, catering, creativity

alexcrumb

Tag: #breakfast

One Man Coffee

Tuna mash and poached egg on toast

Ricotta Pancakes

Champignon cheese and roasted grape tartine

Baker and Cook