Chicken liver parfait

Hello, hello! Uni has been very busy and stressful lately. I have a major exam in less than two weeks time, and THREE barrier exams at the end of this year. (FYI, barrier exams are pass/fail examinations. You won't be allowed to progress to the next phase of this degree without passing in all of them). For that reason, I feel that I should be using all my spare time to study, study, study. Which isn't to say that I actually do. I have major procrastination issues, and one of them is looking at food blogs and recipes on the internet, and dreaming of the ones I'd make if I had all the time in the world.

My first taste of the liver parfait was at Bloodwood in Newtown, as part of a degustation dinner my friend, the birthday girl, treated us to. Except back then I didn't know it was called a liver parfait. I, like most others, I'm sure, was under the impression that it was a pate. Seeing a recipe for the chicken liver parfait on Helen's Grab Your Fork helped to clear up the confusion. I suggest you all go and have a read of her post for the exact differences, as she details them much more articulately than I can :D

But with due respect to all the other liver parfait recipes out there, it was Billy's (author of the much beloved Sydney food blog A Table for Two and one of the top 7 contestants on Masterchef Australia 2011) that I ultimately turned to. I loved the fact that there were so many ingredients; indeed, there was almost a Maggie Beer vibe to it, so time-intensive was the preparation and numerous the steps. Although spare time is something I don't have in excess these days, I was won over by the promise of complex, bold flavours through the addition of thyme, bayleaf, garlic, eschalots, and brandy, oh my!

Soaking the livers in full-fat milk, along with thyme and dried bay leaves.

Determined to use the best available ingredients to do justice to the recipe, I went out and purchased a litre of organic milk for double the normal price. But when I looked closely at the recipe...it turned out that the milk doesn't actually get incorporated into the final parfait. I couldn't bear the thought of throwing out such expensive milk, so used some normal (and slightly expired) milk. [DISCLAIMER: use expired milk at your own risk! Mine smelt okay, and passed the "doesn't curdle when microwaved" test, so I didn't mind using it.]

The liver themselves were unbelievably cheap, considering how much commercially produced liver pate costs. I paid $4.99 for a kilo of it from my local butcher. They were relatively well cleaned out, but some still had fat and tiny pairs of kidneys attached (fascinatingly gruesome), which I had to remove myself. Billy specifies fresh bay leaves in the recipe, but I could only find the dried ones. Mine turned out nicely flavoured, so I'm sure yours will too :D

Into the fridge the whole thing went, and stayed there for 8 hours while I attempted to be studious (and only partially succeeding).

Tip: putting it in an air-tight container like this helps to prevent spillages, and keeps smells from getting in (or out!)



Around 6:30pm, I took it out of the fridge and started to work on actually making the parfait while my dinner was cooking in the oven (fyi, I had a lovely baked chicken breast marinated beforehand with thyme, garlic and lemon). Now that's what I call multi-tasking! I start by allowing the milk to drain from the somewhat wan-looking livers in a colander.

While that's happening, I heat enough olive oil to cover the bottom of my skillet over a medium flame, until it was starting to smoke slightly. A saucepan probably would have been a better way to go, because the thing STARTED TO SPIT OIL at me as soon as I added a few livers. The right side of my face is still recovering from an oil burn that happened three weeks ago (for which I had to take oral antibiotics because it got infected, urgh), so throughout this whole cooking process I had to fight the urge to put on a hoodie and wrap a scarf around my face. I'm a n00b when it comes to cooking, 'tis true.

Anyway, I've never cooked liver before so I was pretty much going at it blind from this point forth. Billy said to sear them all around the outside so they are firm but still pink inside. I had no idea how pink they were supposed to be; a dull flesh-colour or bleedin' raw? I went with the latter because I saw that they would be returned to the pan once I saute the eshalots and garlic in butter.

I finished searing all the livers, turned off the stove, and went to have dinner, concurrently calming myself down so I wouldn't lose the nerve to finish off the parfait. Like I've said, cooking is still a relatively new thing for me. I've been baking for years now, but didn't really start cooking for myself until a few months ago. And that mostly involved boiling and microwaving.

I melted a nob of butter in the same skillet which still held the juices from pan-frying the livers, allowed it to melt completely, then added in the chopped eschalots (aka. French shallots) and minced garlic. Those were sauteed until translucent and fragrant, at which point I added in all 1kg of the par-cooked livers, along with the same bay leaves and thyme that were soaked with the livers. Things did get a bit crowded in the pan, but I made do the best I could.

At this point, the recipe called for brandy to be poured into the pan and then the alcohol flambeed off. I had full intentions of doing this (even making a trip to the shops just to buy brandy), but I completely chickened out and just didn't use any. Maybe when I'm competent enough to not disfigure myself while cooking. I kept the pan on the stove until the livers were no longer squishy inside, but rather were grainy (yet still somewhat pink!). I took the pan off the stove, and used the time the livers were cooling down to clarify some butter.

Another first for me - clarifying butter. Heat the butter over a low flame until completely liquid. Spoon off the white impurities floating on the surface, then pour the translucent yellow liquid into a bowl. There should be white milk solids sunk to the bottom of the pan. Unless you have a very fine mesh strainer, the solids will pass through the strainer (trust me, I tried), so just pour as much as you can until the solids are threatening to tip out. Discard the milk solids.

I don't know how much more embarrassing my story can get at this point, except to say that, because I don't own a food processor, I used a mortar and pestle to mash the livers. For all my kitchen gadgets-challenged kindred souls out there, it is possible to grind livers to a very fine consistency with a mortar and pestle. I'd even say it does a better job than a food processor, although more time-consuming. I also reduced the remaining juices, eschalos and garlic in the pan over a medium-high heat, and then ground the reduction up (without the bay leaves), and stirred that through the liver paste.

Afterwards, it was a simple case of stirring the clarified butter and double cream through the liver paste. Now, in order to make it a parfait, you should press the mixture through a fine sieve so as to remove lumps and sinewy bits, and get that lovely mousse-like texture. I couldn't be bothered/didn't have the time, so I just spooned the stuff as is into jars, sealed it with a bit of melted butter, and transferred it to the fridge to let the flavours develop a bit (many sources recommend  a week).

I ate a few spoonfuls before it went into the jars and it already tasted marvelous. I absolutely suck at describing flavours, but I guess it's comparable to the best liver pate I've tasted on a Bánh mì (Vietnamese baguette) sandwich. Even without the brandy, there's a mildly alcoholic taste, which I can only attribute to the liver themselves. I was worried that the metallic taste inherent in livers would come across to strongly (as was the case when I ate a liver straight out of the pan), but all the fats from the clarified butter and double cream seem to have mellowed the flavour out, so all you get is a rich nuttiness, and the flavour of the aromatic herbs. If I were serving this at a dinner party, I would definitely make the effort to press it through a fine mesh. I personally don't mind the coarse, grainy bits, but I can see how it may put some people off.

The next morning, my family and I had it for breakfast with freshly toasted white bread. They liked it so much that I had to put my foot down and order my sister to stop going back for more spoonfuls because of the high cholesterol content! I originally had plans to give away the smaller jars to friends as gifts, but at the rate the bigger jar is disappearing, we might as well just keep it all for ourselves!

Recipe for Chicken Liver Parfait

Adapted from A Table For Two

Ingredients

(Makes the amount you see in the pictures above)

1 kg chicken liver, cleaned and with fat and sinewy bits removed

600ml full cream milk (to soak livers in; will discard later)

300g butter, salted or unsalted (to clarify, and blend with liver)

50g butter, salted or unsalted (to saute)

2 large eschalots (French shallot onions), chopped roughly

2 large or 3 medium garlic cloves, minced

5 sprigs of fresh thyme

3 dried bay leaves

Roughly 4 tablespoons olive oil (to pan-fry livers)

200g double cream

Salt, amount to tate

Freshly cracked pepper, amount to taste

100g butter, salted or unsalted (to seal the parfait)

Method

1. Cover the cleaned livers with enough full cream milk so that the livers are completely submerged. Add fresh thyme and dried bay leaves. Place in an air-tight container, and leave in the fridge for 6-8 hours.

2. Clarify the butter (you can do this any time before you have to blend it into the liver). To clarify butter, melt the 300g of butter in a saucepan over low-medium heat. Spoon off the floating white stuff (those are the impurities), and discard that. Take off the heat, and carefully pour the yellow, lightly tranlucent yellow liquid into a separate bowl to cool. There will be white at the bottom of the saucepan after you've poured off the liquid - those are the milk solids, and you can discard them.

3. After 6-8 hours of soaking, strain the livers by placing into a colander. Keep the livers, thyme sprigs and bay leaves, and discard the milk.

4. Pat livers dry. This is very important, since excessive moisture will cause the pan to SPIT OIL AT YOU when you pan-fry the livers later on.

5. Heat a large skillet/frying pan with the olive oil until the oil is almost smoking. Sear the livers quickly by frying it on one side for around 45 seconds, then turning it over and frying the other side for another 45 seconds. The livers are done frying at this point when they've turned to a brownish-grey colour on the outside, and look firm, but still feel somewhat squishy if you squeeze on them. Don't worry if they're still kinda raw, because you will return them to the heat later on. Note that you may need to fry the livers in separate batches, especially if you're doing 1kg of it and have a small pan.

6. Remove livers from the frying pan, and allow to cool off to the side. Don't throw away the juices in the pan, because that's where all the flavour is!

7. While livers are cooling, melt the 50g of butter over medium heat in the same skillet/frying pan you used to fry the livers. Yes, the one with the LIVER JUICES still in it. When butter is melted, and bubbling slightly (but not burning brown), add in the minced garlic and eschalots/shallot onions, and saute until translucent and aromatic (but not a burning smell!). Place the livers back into the same pan, along with the bay leaves and thyme sprigs you've retained from earlier on. Keep it on the stove over medium heat for another 3-4 minutes, or until the livers feel firm, and are no longer raw on the inside, but not hard and dried out either.

8. Remove from the heat, and set aside to cool slightly.

9. Once slightly cooled, remove livers from the pan, and set aside. Return the pan, with all the juices, eschalots, garlic, thyme and bay leaves, back to the stove. Reduce the liquid down to a thick sauce-like consistency over a medium-high flame. Once done, take off the heat and set aside to cool slightly.

10. Put the livers and reduced pan juices (minus the bay leaves) in a food processor. Add in the double cream and clarified butter, and blend for 2 minutes on high until smooth.

10. (ALTERNATIVE METHOD). Alternatively, if you're like me and don't own a food processor, you can grind up the livers manually with a mortar and pestle after you chop them roughly with a knife. Or if you don't have a mortar and pestle, you could just smoosh it between your fingers (maybe use food preparation gloves to keep for hygiene). Grind up the reduced pan juices into a liquid state (this may be difficult without a mortar and pestle), and mix into the ground-up liver. Add the clarified butter and double cream, and mix into the liver paste until completely incorporated.

11. Season with salt and freshly-ground black pepper, to taste.

12. Push the mixture through a fine sieve to remove any lumps and thyme stalks that may still be present. If you can't be bothered to do this step, just make sure you pick out any visible thyme stalks.

13. Scoop the parfait into jars, smoothing the top so that it is flat.

14. Melt the 100g of butter in a microwave or on the stove until liquid (but not separated like when we clarified the 300g butter previously). This is the butter that we'll use to "seal" the parfait, for presentation and also to keep the flavours in. Pour the liquid butter over the tops of the parfait, until about 0.5cm in thickness.

15. Transfer jars to fridge and let it set overnight. You can eat it the very next day, or let the flavours develop over the next week. Take out of the fridge an hour prior to serving so it won't be rock solid.

16. Enjoy! I like mine spread thickly over freshly toasted white bread, or roughly chopped (when still solid and cold) and sprinkled over a salad, or just eat straight off the spoon!

Golden Treasure Chinese Seafood Restaurant, Granville

It may be that I've simply become conditioned through habit to associate certain cuisines with specific areas of Sydney, but it struck me as somewhat incongruous when I was informed that we would be dining out at a Chinese seafood restaurant in Granville.

"Er...what about the usual places in Hurstville or Beverly Hills?" I asked my parents.

"It's time to try something new!" Said my mother.

And that was that. Off we went to Gold Treasure Chinese Seafood Restaurant, located within the depths of the Granville RSL club.

The occasion we were celebrating was my grandfather's 74th birthday, and my mother had rung ahead to put in our orders for the very special Buddha Jumps Over the Wall (fo tiao qiang) soup. Described as "da bu" (highly nutritious) by the Chinese, the ingredients most typically found in the soup inclue shark fin, abalone, chicken, ham, sea cucumber, and ginseng. Not exactly your old chicken broth, eh? Apparently, the most expensive rendition can be found in some restaurant in London, at £108 per serve.

Ours wasn't quite that expensive, but it did look like it had quite a few expensive ingredients packed inside. I identified fish tripe (an all-time favourite offal of mine), abalone, shark fin, sea cucumber, and a lot of chicken pieces. The broth was rich and flavourful, and was an appropriate starter to a night of indulgent delicacies.

Digging through the bowl to find all the ingredients felt like treasure-hunting!

My sisters always insist on ordering the ru ge (baby pigeon) whenever we see it on the menu. A plate of two pigeons, the skins a burnished bronze and the plump flesh bursting with juices, soon followed the starter soup. They are accompanied by a dish of soy sauce, and another of salt and seasoning. Our visual appraisal proved to be accurate; the birds were indeed tender and succulent, and the thin layer of semi-melted fat beneath the crispy skin was absolutely addictive.

The delicacies continued with this next dish: braised sea cucumber and mushroom.

Sea cucumbers are an acquired taste, methinks. My dad detests the gelatinous, rubbery texture, while I absolutely adore it. The sauce was a bit gluggy (too heavy-handed on the corn starch, perhaps), but we all liked the shrimp meat-stuffed mushroom. And the presentation was...interesting ;P

The lobster sashimi turned out to be of the pink-fleshed variety, which is said to be of an inferior quality to the white, pearlescent one. And it tasted it too, with a rather wet and stringy mouthfeel compared to the firmer texture of the white-fleshed species.

You can see the pink flesh beneath the pile of ice on top.

The lobster was served two ways; our second lobster course came with noodles and was cooked in a garlic sauce. Tasty! Wish there'd been more noodles, though.

Time for some greens! The stir-fried abalone with snow peas came with a pungent shrimp paste, which again is an acquired taste. I happen to like smelly foods (durian!), so this was right up my alley. It was a pity that the abalone was over-cooked, as they became tough as nails.

The Japanese-style tofu (a curious designation) appeared to be deep-fried silken tofu doused in a sweet and sour chilli sauce, with tiny balls of shrimp meat. I really liked this one!

Our final savoury dish was the Zhe Jiang-style (Dongpo) pork. Except maybe I misheard, because our pork was deep-fried and had a sweet and sour flavour. And I think Dongpo pork is meant to be a thick, fatty piece of pork steamed and braised. Never mind, it was still delicious, and I couldn't help but go back for seconds and thirds.

As is always the case with dining at a Chinese restaurant, we were beyond stuffed somewhere in the middle of the savoury dishes. But since dessert is almost always complimentary, and usually very good, we never mind stretching our stomachs just that littlest bit more. A plate of fresh fruits and another of those delectable lardy cookies were brought over after our table was cleared. Along with bowls of sweet red bean soup.

And, of course, there was the birthday cake I made for my grandpa, which you can read all about in my previous post.

Golden Treasure Chinese Seafood Restaurant

Granville RSL Club, 5 Memorial Drive, Granville NSW.

Phone: (02) 9637 8899

Recreating the Chinese Birthday Cake

I've always felt that I never got the credit I deserve for my baking from my family. All too often, I get told off for adding too much sugar, butter, or chocolate (...???...) to something, and as a result, my beautifully constructed, multi-layered cake would remain untouched on the kitchen bench. Untill I get sick of walking past it every time I go to grab a snack, and a) freeze it; b) chuck it away; or c) push it onto a far more grateful recipient (i.e. a good uni friend of mine).

Needless to say, I was very surprised when I received a phone call from my mum the other day asking me if I would like to make a cake for my grandpa's upcoming birthday. Me? Trusted with a grandparent's birthday cake? My pastry skills must be rising in my family's estimation. Of course I agreed, eagerly rising to the challenge of creating something that would appeal to my family member's picky palates.

It was clear from the outset that a Chinese-style sponge cake was the only way to go. I'm talking about the ones found at Chinese/Asian bakeries here in Sydney (and all around the world, I suppose). The one known as 鸡蛋糕 (ji dan gao); literally, 'chicken egg cake'. Quite aptly so, considering that eight eggs went into making this particular one. You hear correctly; I almost single-handedly cleared out the whole egg carton with this cake. But that's really the only thing this cake is heavy on. The only fats came from 2 tablespoons of canola oil and 2 tablespoons of milk. The amount of sugar was such that it was barely sweet - a mere hint only.

I have a love/hate relationship with sponge cakes. I hate how shitty they make me feel when they come out of the oven all deflated and pancake-like, but when I do get that ultimate fluffy texture, it's as good as getting full marks on an exam. This particular one was a mixed bag. One cake, made from half the batter, was decently spongy and aerated, while the other one turned out all dense and chewy. I presume it's to do with both my method and the bakingware I used. Sponge cake, I will conquer you one day!

Note the fairly dense middle layer. Hmmph.

Drawing from my vast experience in eating Chinese Birthday Cakes, I chose the conventional whipped cream and fresh fruits combo to fill the layers. Again, the cream was only slightly sweetened with confectioner's sugar, and flavoured with vanilla essence. Despite the copious amount of whipped cream used (I used the whole of the 600ml carton), it didn't taste gluggy. Even with excessive consumption, as I can personally attest to :D

I had initial thoughts of covering the cake with a layer of swiss meringue buttercream (my go-to frosting when it comes to decorative piping), but knew it would just be scraped off by everyone prior to eating. So, in the interest of minimizing waste, and keeping it as similar as possible to the real article, I simply covered it with some fresh fruit, and crumbles of honey-roasted macadamia nuts around the side.

So, how was my family's reception of the cake? I think they loved it! I certainly had no trouble with polishing off the huge slice I got. I heard murmurs of "mmm, it's good" and "tastes better than the ones from the bakeries" as everyone tucked in. Good work, Lucy, a nice job indeed :D

Recipe for Chinese Birthday Cake

Adapted from Tastydesu

Ingredients

For the cake (makes two 9" rounds)

1 cup cake flour

1 cup caster sugar

8 large eggs, at room temperature and separated into whites and yolks

2 tablespoons canola oil

2 tablespoons milk

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

For the whipped cream filling and frosting

600ml cream, suitable for whipping

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

5 tablespoons confectioner's/icing sugar (but can add more/less according to personal preference)

To assemble

Canned peaches in syrup

Fresh fruits of choice

Honey-roasted macadamia nuts, chopped

Glace cherries

Method

To make the cakes:

1. Preheat oven to 175 degrees Celsius. Line two 9" round baking pans with non-stick baking/parchment paper.

2. Mix 3/4 cup caster sugar with egg yolks and beat until pale yellow and thick. Add vanilla and beat to incorporate.

3. In a separate bowl, beat egg whites with electric beater until soft peaks form. Add in the remaining 1/4 cup of caster sugar gradually, in two or three separate additions, and continue beating until stiff peaks form.

4. Combine half of the meringue from step 3 with the egg yolk mixture, and fold gently to incorporate (don't worry if they're not mixed thoroughly; there will be more mixing in the following steps).

5. Add oil and milk to the batter from step 4. Fold in the remaining half of the meringue from step 3.

6. Divide the batter between the two pans, and tap pans to release any air bubbles. Bake for abount 20-25 minutes, until the tops are lightly-browned, or a cake-tester stuck into the center comes out clean.

7. Turn oven off, open oven door slightly ajar and allow the cakes to cool inside the oven, as sudden exposure to cold air encourages rapid deflation.

To make the whipped cream filling:

1. Place cream, vanilla essence and confectioner's/icing sugar in a cold bowl and beat whip with electric beater on high speed until the beaters leave a trail in the cream. Be careful to not overbeat the cream! Overbeaten cream resembles a yellowish, lumpy soup - also known as butter primordium :D

To assemble:

1. Once cooled completely, divide each cake into two layers by slicing horizontally with a serrated knife or cake leveler. Brush each layer with syrup from the canned peaces.

2. Chop up the canned peaches (use as much as you want) and combine with three-quarters of the whipped cream. Fill the cake layers with this mixure.

3. With the remaining whipped cream, coat the sides and top of this cake, filling any cracks or indentations.

4. Slice fruits, chop the macadamia nuts, and have some fun decorating!

Lindt Chocolat Cafe, Martin Place

I wistfully think back to those childhood times when I wouldn't have thought twice about having a thick slab of some generic chocolate mudcake for an after-school snack. These days, I tend to save my "chocolate allowance" for the more high-end stuff: a pretty choccy from Colefax or Belle Fleur, a square of Lindt Excellence 99%, a raspberry and chocolate mousse tart from Bourke Street Bakery etc. Remember, my friends - good food has no calories; only happiness :D

After spending half the day on my feet volunteering for a uni event, I was famished an in serious need of a sugar boost. My friend P., who was conveniently roaming the city on that day, suggested that we meet up for afternoon tea at the Lindt Cafe in Martin Place. Sounds good to me!

We chose a cake each as well as three scoops of Lindt ice cream to share between the two of us.

First up - the Opera cake. A firm favourite with my friend, who'd purchased the large version on numerous occasions for special events. In fact, she took home one on the day for her dad's birthday!

Looking at how beautifully thin and even each layer in the Opera cake was, it was obvious that the Lindt pastry chefs really were maîtres chocolatiers. According to the Lindt website, the gold leaf on top is 24-carats. Wow!

The cake I picked was the Chocolate & Pear Poire - milk chocolate mousse with a centre of caramelised pear and caramel mousse. Loved how everything was just melt-in-your-mouth, including the pear!

We were allowed to pick three flavours for our ice cream dessert. We decided on the Lindt Excellence 70% cocoa, Black Forest, and Cookies & Cream.

We both found the Excellence 70% to be strangely powdery in texture. The other two, however, were absolutely addictive. Especially the Black Forest, which tasted like it had pieces of chocolate sponge swirled into the ice cream.

Clearly our insulin response wasn't what it used to be, as we found ourselves teetering on the edge of a sugar coma after we licked the last dregs of melted ice cream from our spoons. Time was I could have polished off this whole lot by myself without feeling the least bit ill. Although, my heightened sensitivity to sugar may not necessarily be a bad thing :D

We had a quick wander around the shop.

Lindt chocolates.

Macarons known as "Delices".

Lindor Balls. Some of the flavours I've never come across before, like peanut butter (now my favourite). I brought home a bag of these.

Various cakes, in indiviual portions and the full-sized versions.

Lindt Excellence bars, including the 99% cocoa one(!!!). I've been looking for the 99% for ages. I bought it and tried a square later at home. INTENSE! Probably better suited to melting in a mug of hot chocolate or coffee (easy Mocha!) than eaten on its own.

Next time (and I do intend to return there), I'm going to try the waffles or a slice of the Wimbledon. Maybe both!

Lindt Chocolat Cafe

3 Martin Place (Cnr Phillip Street),

Sydney 2000 NSW
Phone: (02) 8257 1600

Opening Hours

Monday to Friday: 7.30am – 6pm
Saturday & Sunday: 10am – 6pm 

Cafe Next, Rozelle

This is kinda a mish-mash of a post. A little bit of food reviewing, a little bit of baking, a lot of yours truly blathering on about her favourite topic - ME! Enjoy :D

I am BACK!!! Well, "back" in the sense of returning to work on this blog. Much as I hate to admit it, this blog is a form of procrastinatory exercise for me rather than an all-consuming passion. I guess it takes a pile of uni assignments to push me into a food-blogging mood. *sigh* That really sounds terrible, does it not? Never mind. I appear to be once again "in the groove", as they say, so get ready for some rapid-fire updating!

First, though - check out how cool I look in my gear during my recent skiing trip to Perisher :D

Very pro, yes?

Anyway, two days before I left for my ski trip, two of my very good high school friends decided to hold a joint birthday brunch at the cafe Next on Darling in Balmain. The concept of brunch is a foreign one to me. I'm generally a very early riser (I often joke that I was biologically programmed to work in a bakery), and the prospect of not eating anything for the next four or five hours to save stomach space for a giant brunch is enough to send me diving for the cereal box. So the birthday brunch was a great exercise in restraint; it was helped somewhat by the knowledge that I would soon be digging into a piece of cake. This cake:

My two friends gladly took up my offer of making them a birthday cake, stating simply that they would be more than happy with anything involving chocolate and/or hazelnuts. Well, that made my job extremely easy. I went with my favourite devil's food cake recipe for the chocolate part, and made a Nutella-spiked swiss meringue buttercream. To decorate, I whipped up more buttercream and piped it into ruffles.

Pretty cross-section shot!

Okay, so the food at Next on Darling. The offerings seemed to be pretty standard brunch fare; eggs done many ways, thick slabs of toast, corn fritters, muesli, the ol' fry-up etc. Even though it was edging on noon, I couldn't go past something sweet for my first proper meal of the day. So I chose the toasted muesli with yoghurt, honey, and poached fruits. I enjoyed it, but in hindsight I wish I'd ordered something I couldn't make at home.

My fellow brunchers all had the right idea and went for the hot dishes.

Corn fritters with bacon, poached egg, mushrooms and pesto.

Grilled chorizo and tomato, with wilted spinach and poached egg on toast.

Scrambled eggs on toast.

Corn fritters, poached egg and bacon with hollandaise.

It was a huge boost to my ego that everyone wanted a piece of cake afterwards despite being absolutely stuffed :D

Next on Darling

618 Darling Street, Rozelle 2039 NSW

Phone: (02) 9555 5418

Opening Hours

Monday to Friday: 7am-4pm

Saturday & Sunday: 7am-5pm