Twenty-something. Female. Sydney-sider. Eats all of the things. Killer cook. (Not literally).
That’s me up there eating a stroopwafel. (Have you tried them? They’re great.) I picked it up in Amsterdam and can I just say, it was one of the highlights of the city.
Those photos? They’re my usual state of being – mouth full, eyes lit up, face all scrunched up as I savour the tastes and experiences (usually with little to no awareness of how it might turn out in a sneakily snapped photograph). And when I’m not eating, I can usually be found in the kitchen, covered in a fine sheen of flour and cursing the day I ever thought to buy a plastic sieve. Sometimes I get through a whole day without dropping my camera into whatever it is I’m cooking. I like to count those days as a win.
I love memories.
Stories. Experiences and emotions. I love creating them, re-living them, forgetting them and digging them out of dusty corners to bring back to light. I love the way your grandmother’s face appears when you take a bite of something. The way you can smell your childhood in the streets of a city. The way the stresses of your day slip away with the first sip of something special. And so I started collecting them.
Embarrassingly photographed sessions of chinese new year cookie making. The crack of tea spoons against boiled crab shells. The damp cobblestone streets of Amsterdam. The dust of Egypt. Crisp linen napkins and pops of flavour at my favourite restaurants. The hustle and bustle of noodles in Chinatown. Potentially explosive home-brewed ginger beer.
Once upon a time, I was a lawyer with a background in public communications that turned her nose up at orange vegetables and shrugged ambivalently when offered chocolate or cheese. The day after I quit, I hopped on a plane and spent three weeks milling about in the European-not-quite-Summer. I’m happier now, carrots regularly grace my plate (though they aren’t always finished. I’m trying, ok?), chocolate and cheese have become occasional treats and oh! I finally found myself a bit more time to spend on this.
I made this blog. It’s called onebitemore.
onebitemore was started in January 2009 as a pre-pinterest method of scrapbooking my attempts at eating.
These days, you’ll find my memories. A mix of home-cooked recipes, delectable drinks, mouthwatering (and sometimes eye-watering) restaurant reviews and occasional accounts of my wanderings around the world.
As with all memories, I like to keep things personal – anything you see or read on this blog is a reflection of my very own experiences, complete with only-slightly-edited dialogue. I don’t say things I don’t mean, and I don’t write about things I don’t believe in. Sometimes I get paid to publish posts, sometimes I don’t. Either way, you’ll always know the difference between the two and I’ll never alter my opinion in exchange for some coin. (Call it the bullish lawyer in me, and also the idealistic writer. They get along, most of the time.)
I’ve worked hard to develop all of the recipes on onebitemore and worked even harder to take appealing photographs of the end product. They’re nutted out in a notebook, tested until the bugs are fixed and eaten with gusto by my family and friends. If I’ve borrowed a recipe from somewhere, I’ll say so (and I’d be grateful if you did the same).