Sweet Sunday

It's been a while since I baked. After suffering some small baking disasters (weird thyme muffins, exploding scones, raw brownies) I was somewhat reluctant to get back into it. Leave the baking to Ellen, I thought, and I meanwhile will cook every variant of lentil and barley stew known to man.

But, I have a new kitchen to christen, new co-workers to meet, and honestly: I just couldn't go past these peanut butter cookies.

Gosh, they're good. At the risk of being kicked out of Australia, I'm going to confess that I don't really like ANZAC biscuits. They're so often dry and hard and disappointing. Which I suppose makes sense - war-time food is not famous for flavour.

These biscuits would make an ANZAC weep. They're rich and buttery and lovely. They're crunchy on the edges and soft in the middle, and just the right amount of chewy.

And they go quite well with my (tiny) new kitchen:

As does this bottle opener. Probably my favourite (and certainly most used) kitchen item.

I'd be lying if I said the ducks on the curtains didn't help me pick this place.

My baby coriander. This attempt at growing herbs is going oh-so-much better than the last time. It turns out neglect is not a substitute for water and sunlight.

Having said that, I have managed to forget what these are. Sorry baby mystery herbs. I'm sure you'll grow up to be delicious no matter what you turn into.

But back to those cookies.

Here's how you do it:

Preheat your oven to 175 degrees C.
Combine 2 cups rolled oats with 2 cups sifted plain flour in a large bowl.
Add 2 tsp baking powder and 1(ish) tsp salt. Set aside.
In another bowl, mix 3/4 cup vegetable oil with 3/4 cup natural peanut butter. I used crunchy. Add 2 cups of brown sugar, 1/2 cup oat milk and 2 tsp vanilla extract.
Mix the wet and dry, and then use a dessert spoon to spoon out the dough onto baking paper lined trays. Space them out, they'll spread in the oven.
Bake for 14 - 18 minutes, or until they start smelling divine and browning at the edges.

Take them into work. Or eat them all by yourself. I won't judge.

Brown Paper Packages Tied Up With String

Last weekend I paid a visit to the fantastic Melbourne Design Markets. I paid a visit specifically to purchase Cookbook, a darling little collection of recipe cards from Melbourne designers Wolfgang & Shlomo, hand printed using the old letterpress at the Melbourne Museum of Printing.

Cookbook is pretty much the most exciting purchase I have made this year. It combines two of my very favourite things, beautiful design and delicious food. Featuring linocut artwork by four talented Melbourne designers, and recipes from local food royalty, the pages of this beautifully printed collection are just so darn pretty, unwrapping my copy set me all aquiver with excitement.

The traditional letterpress printing used to create Cookbook lends each recipe card an organic, textured feel, entirely in keeping with the earthy homestyle recipes inked on each page. I can't wait to try the delicious sounding "carrots cooked in earth with wild onions and clover" - and I'm eager to sink my teeth into the utterly enticing "white chocolate, macadamia and butterscotch tart".

I am completely in love with my Cookbook, and I urge you to get your hands on a copy, if you can (The Narrows Bookstore is the only stockist I can find). All profits go to The Australian Aids Fund, a worthy recipient of your hard earned, and unwrapping your copy of Cookbook for the first time is so totally satisfying, I promise your money will be well spent.

My Kitchen: A photographic essay born of blogging laziness.

I'm feeling a little out of sorts tonight. I've just returned home after a weekend away, I rose at the ungodly hour of 5 in the morning to catch my flight back to Melbourne, and although I have a few new recipes I'm dying to share, I don't have the energy to attempt a decent blog post tonight.

I've just spent a lovely weekend enjoying the generosity of friends and family back in Canberra. I've had to say goodbye to them all for another unknown stretch of time, and after a crappy day at work made worse by a bad case of the sads, the one thing that lifted my spirits when I walked through my front door was my lovely little kitchen, with my clutter strewn throughout, tea in the pantry and leftovers in the fridge.

I've been intending to share these photos of my kitchen for a while now: almost every recipe I post has been cooked and eaten here. I'm feeling tired and lazy and missing my friends, and tonight seems like the perfect time to say "I heart you Kitchen, thanks for minding the food while I was away."