Where To Bring A Japanese Coffee Roaster in Melbourne.

“Are you going to the Japanese coffee weekend?”

“The Fukuoka roastery takeover at The Flour?”

Just because my wife is from Fukuoka, and I’m from Melbourne, therefore I must be into Japanese filter coffee?

What a stereotypical assumption.

And surprisingly accurate.

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I can’t help it if the Fukuoka roastery they contacted was Coffee County, the only roastery I know.

I went to the OG roastery in Kurume 2 years ago, dropped Mori-san an email, and got stage fright last minute, seeing that people were queuing before the shop opened.

I drove all the way from x.
Love your coffee.
The space was amazing.
Can I get a photo?

The exact things I was going to say.

So I just went back and sat with Sayaka and Max, and bought shit loads of cakes and coffee¹.

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Do you believe in destiny?

Or grand delusions?

When I saw the Coffee County and The Flour’s takeover², I honestly thought the whole event was made so that Mori-san and I could finally meet.

“Oh yes! You wrote about Fukuoka in the New York Times!” Mori-san said when I introduced myself this time.

I wanted to cry.

Still waiting for a thank you card, Fukuoka.

This time, I took a photo of Mori, and told him, if he had time, which is highly unlikely, let’s go out for dinner.

“Ok,” he told his no.2 - Taishi, to take down my details, and that was that.

Another long line of people behind me, waiting to say the same thing.

A Day in the Life of a Melbourne Food Photographer.

I woke up at 5:30am. Friday was bread delivery day.
Satoshi’s in today, which meant everything was ready by 6am. It was me, fresh smell of baked butter in the car, empty roads. No drama today, back by 7.40am. I made filter coffee for the girls, and saw E, the Good Food Guide editor and C, fellow writer and 50% of Into It PR Agency.

Made it home by 8.30am to send Hana to school. Then refuelled before dropping off cookbooks at the post office, a quick coffee takeaway, then off to Box Hill Central.

Morning shoot: the final leg for Asian Grain Café 60-item menu. Congee, noodle soups, roast duck. Tight frames and fast hands in the kitchen.

Wrapped at 1pm; home by 1:30pm.
Unloaded gears, then caught Uber to another shoot.

Duck and duck talk.

I try not to be ‘that person’ who gobbles food during a shoot, but I gobbled the barramundi dish.

My first meal of the day.

Quick walk to Bench Little Collins to buy beans for the Marketing Director and some dacquoise for the chefs to thank them for the barramundi.

In the office by 4 pm, cards dumped, files uploaded.
A quick briefing to end the day by 5pm.

During my walk home, the text came in from Mori-san.

“We may help out with Weekenders at Maker. Finish at 8pm.”

50% of me was touched he remembered, the other 50% was geezus fudge I’ve been active for 12 hours now, I can’t even-

“Ok, not going to Maker, how about 6.30-7pm?”

-think about where to go for dinner.

I thought of an observation from Enrico, a new father / Bench key staff when we shared a table at The Flour:

“They came all the way to Australia, only to meet more Japanese in Melbourne.”

So, what is uniquely Australian for someone visiting from Japan?

Pub.
Local beer.
Where white people meet.

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5.36pm I arrived home, and started prepping for dinner for the girls.

Water boiling, salt, 200g pasta. Timer on for 11 minutes.
Chopped garlic, olive oil, anchovies, tomato paste, whisked with lemon juice.
Tuna and brocollini, in the pan.

When the timer had 4 minutes to go, add the oil mixture in the pan.
Turn the heat to low. 1 minute to go, spaghetti into the pan. Add pasta water.

Toss until time’s up.
Drizzle prawn oil.

Out of the door.

Almost 6.50pm when I saw Mori’s yellow jumper.