The Age newspaper this morning mentioned in it's local gossip column that Sydney pâtissier and Masterchef regular Adriano Zumbo is on his way to having a presence in Melbourne. I wonder if that explains his increasingly frequent visits!

Could this mean tastier times to come in Melbourne?

For those of you who like my macarons, click here to read more about what's happening at Liaison café in Melbourne.

The lure of supermarkets and convenience stores is irresistible when I travel. The novelty of different packaging, mysterious powders, new chocolate brands (mostly disappointing), and the cornucopia of snackfoods can keep me entranced for ages. Collected novelties travel home with me and then, embarrassingly, lie neglected on a shelf for much too long. See my collection and perhaps tell me about yours…

For the most part, I'm not the kind to dally over, under or prior to breakfast. Once upon a time, I could barely manage the few minutes of showering before my stomach felt like it was devouring me. Breakfast easily becomes a torture of digestive impatience and longing for tasty treats, and after quite a few years of travelling, I can now manage almost 45 minutes without food before my stomach starts gnawing… luckily, 45 minutes is just right for making puffy pancakes (pikelets, etc).

Imagine surviving thirteen nights of durian pong, collecting valuable fruit identification info from a durian seller, and then discovering you failed to write it all down for one's readers' pleasure! I bring you tales of stinkiness with added (incomplete) interesting information, plus news of mangosteen and jackfruit.

Everyone who knows me well enough to welcome me into their home on my travels knows that I eat one thing for breakfast. It verges on religion. If I stray from the one true breakfast, I am punished with bad moods and heavy stomach (or growling hunger). What's more, perhaps unusually for something so mundane, I'm quite faithful to one brand…

All sorts of things grow when the weather is going crazy. In Paris this week, the temperature fluctuated between 14C and rainy and 35C and excruciatingly humid. I got home from a day of walking around the rive gauche (Left Bank = mix of university, studenty, somewhat wealthy, public service, cultural and dawdling tourist population). Look what had grown in my bag from the curious cultures floating through the air…

There was a strange box containing…

I had intended to review some of the chocolates from the British chocolatier Artisan du Chocolat, as I was in London recently and had previously enjoyed (and written about) them after a visit in 2007. Some businesses in high-end food succeed in respecting customers, others choose to be rigid and intentionally haughty. Artisan du Chocolat seems on the face of it to fall into a more positive category, but on this visit I was disappointed.

On Good Friday my mother usually makes her fantabulous hot cross buns. Unsurpassed in the history of Australia. Or something like that. Usually there are just four of us devouring the buns. Read on for a tale of the most unexpected events…

I don't think most Australians have any particularly awareness of the conditions for livestock animals in Australia. We hear occasional stories from overseas and can, of course, read books such as Fast Food Nation or The Omnivore's Dilemma to get even more of an idea. We know that chickens lead an awful life in battery farms, but what of pigs and other animals in Australia?