20 Australian Food Bloggers Tell Us What They Had For Breakfast

Loosen them belts all you meatball inhaling Tony Soprano types because we’ve finally reached the delicious portion of our Blogster Awards mini tasks (in part one we made our music nominees review “Call Me Maybe” by Carly Rae Jepsen, and in part two we played wardrobe voyeurist with our fashion finalists). This time we asked our food bloggers to write 200 words on what they had for breakfast. Yum town population you guys. Vote for your favourites below.


It’s 12.07am AEST and I’m about to eat breakfast. I’m not an insomniac. I’m in New York. It’s ok to be jealous.

Many hours of research has revealed that Murray’s Bagels on 6th Ave has perfected the NY bagel. I’m no expert on the subject. But I’m great at pretending.

10.07am. Get in line with half of the West Village. Peruse the menu. Practice your order in your head.. ‘Cinnamon bagel with strawberry cream cheese’. Reach the front of the line. Forget your order. Say the first thing that pops into your head in a heavy Aussie accent. Repeat order minus accent. Collect your plain bagel with eggs and bacon.

It’s chewy with a dense bread flavour. Yet the insides are somewhat light and fluffy. See those little holes in the bagel? I’m pretty sure that’s the sign of a perfect bagel. Fluffy. Yeah, I’m an expert.

Coffee is CRAP in NY, so drink it cold. It helps.

Ignoring my better judgement, I brave the line again and order the cinnamon bagel. It’s like a giant, chewy hot cross bun slathered with cream cheese that is punctuated with chunks of real strawberry the size of your face. Perfection.



Creaming Soda Scones

Winter is one of the worst things, but it makes good food so incredibly satisfying in ways that Summer just can’t. It’s really windy and chilly this morning, so I thought a nice wreckish breakfast (wreckfast) would help take the edge off the cold. And so I sifted through the fridge, looking for the usual suspects. Haloumi, mostly. A discovery of some leftover home-made raspberry jam triggered a change in tact. No savoury for Emily!

I realised I’d never made scones, after eating what must be at least 20 million of them by now. I turned to my good friend (the internet) for some advice. I read that lemonade scones are a fabulous thing. I had no lemonade. Surely creaming soda scones would be an even better thing? And then the dough happened:

2 cups of self raising flour
1Ž4 cup caster sugar
1Ž2 cup thickened cream
1Ž2 cup creaming soda

In a hot oven for 15ish minutes I think.

Ladies and gentlemen, don’t eat normal scones ever again. These little guys are (tastefully) pink, fluffy and just plain delightful. Heavy enough to still be a scone, but only just. Make some for your Grandma she’d love them.



Cambodian Noodles

Dong Son serves up Cabramatta’s most popular breakfast. You won’t find bacon and eggs, toast or café latte on the menu. It’s 6am and this humble eatery is already full with Chinese, Vietnamese and Cambodian tradies grabbing a hearty breakfast.

In front of me is a bowl of piping hot Cambodian noodles the locals call hu tieu. The servings are generous, thinly sliced pork, chicken pieces, fish balls and prawns float tantalisingly on top. They’re garnished with freshly chopped shallots, fried onion and garlic providing extra colour and taste. Under it all, lies a foundation of thin but strong strands of freshly made, pristine white noodles. A clear, but deceptively flavoursome soup binds everything together. I add freshly chopped chilli and a squeeze of lime for extra zing.

The noodles are washed down with a glass of café su da; Vietnamese iced coffee served in a tall glass containing a strong shot of coffee mixed with a generous amount of condensed milk and filled to the top with ice.

It’s the ultimate hearty, fast food. Yell out your order and the noodles appear in minutes. Waive some cash in the air to pay.



These Lemon Curd & Berry Brioches were like clouds of sweet, silken, zingy goodness. The brioche has a beautifully flakey, caramelised crust, but that is only the beginning. Sink your teeth in further and they’ll glide right through the smooth, glossy lemon curd. A berry will stain your top lip as you finish the bite. You’ll lower the brioche back onto your plate and enjoy the flavours bouncing around in your mouth.

You may have expected the lemon and berry combination to be a little sour, but it’s not. The sweetness of the lemon curd is complimented by the typically buttery but light brioche and, as you chew, the berry cuts right through them both. Every now and then you’ll stumble across a chewy pistachio that injects a bit of nuttiness into your morning.

As you lift the brioche for your next bite, that refreshing smell of berries meets with the lemon and your taste buds will dance with delight and excitement. When enjoying each mouthful you’ll be wondering how breakfast could get any better. (I still don’t know.) On top of taste, these little treasures are super easy to make and perfect for an antioxidant hit. Negatives? Accidentally sniffing up some icing sugar mid-bite and then kind of choking on it.



Weekend breakfasts.

Those glorious meals that happen post-breakfast hour, post-the half leap / half tumble out of bed and into clothes that allow you to vaguely resemble a functioning member of society. A fridge full of breakfast appropriate items bypassed in favour of a (rather long) car trip to the west of Sydney for something with a little more sustenance (and far less fibre) than the typical muesli with yoghurt.

They say breakfast is the most important meal of the day, and what better way to celebrate its import than a serve of Bún bò Hu?, presented in a bowl big enough to accommodate a face plant without your ears even skimming the sides?

It’s the smells that hit you first. A plume of steam, fragrant with lemongrass, fermented shrimp and hearty beef stock. The refreshing whiff of a tangle of bean sprouts, Vietnamese mint, lettuce and shredded red cabbage for piling atop slippery white noodles, sliced beef, onion and the characteristic slick of chilli oil that adorn the herbal broth, before being stirred through.

Soon you are covered in speckles of splattered soup. Lips tingling. Appetite sated. Presence of mind restored.

To lunch!



Ahhhh Sunday mornings. There was a time, not so long ago, where both weekend mornings would be spent waiting in line to eat at some Surry Hills café. But now I’m in saving-to-go-to-NYC mode which means weekend brunch has turned into a let’s-see-what-we-can-make-when we’re-trying-to-save-money meal.

So here we go – Sunday’s breakfast was a bit like a sausage and egg McMuffin without the Mc or the muffin. The addition of buttery, wilted spinach, poached egg and a beef patty that oozed cheddar cheese made it a good post-karaoke breakfast, even if it was never going to with 2nd prize in a beauty contest. But hey, eating this whilst watching The Simpsons (the Springfield Gorge episode was on!) in my PJs was a pretty great way to spend Sunday morning.



I am a sister, a secret dag, a food-hippie, a law student, a cocktail-addict and a gen-Y-er, but scariest of all, I am my mother’s daughter. For 26 years I believed I could decide my fate, but today the truth is undeniable.

This morning’s crisp autumn sky was extraordinarily beautiful; inevitably I wake with breakfast on my mind. The unassuming café menu jumps out and slaps me in the face, in my pre-coffee-haze I am blindsided. There it is, taunting me from the page, Marmalade French toast with rhubarb and prunes.

Marmalade French toast, really? Since when do you like orange peel, prunes or ricotta? Don’t you remember picking the mixed peel out of grandma’s almond-topped Christmas cake or screwing up your nose at mum’s favourite lime marmalade, disgusting!

Strangely, and I’m not sure when, bitter citrus has become one of my favourite flavours (mm Negroni). Before me now stand two yellow brioche pillows dotted with currants and dressed in a sticky marmalade crust, bed heading a poached pile of cinnamon infused prunes, joyous glowing batons of tender rhubarb and a ricotta cream crown.

Damn you genetic predisposition, your culinary forces are equally mysterious and delicious.



Today’s breakfast – ‘Osh-nana-tella-sanga’.

Or brioche, banana and nutella sandwich. A perfect Sunday brekky smash hit or a naughty snack. This sanga is what the Russian babushkas are to Eurovision = golden gold.

If you are thinking “what can I substitute to make it less fattening?” then stop. Walk away and grow some koftas. This a breakfast TREAT! Impress your friends, eat during a self-pity binge – that kind of treat. Capish?

1 banana
2 slices of brioche bread
1 tbsp brown sugar
1 tbsp butter
2tsp mascarpone
Crushed pistachios to decorate


Heat butter in a heavy set saucepan, add brown sugar while butter is bubbling away. Once sugar starts to caramelize, add in sliced banana. Turn banana pieces over after one side is a lovely brown yet slightly crispy texture. Repeat on the other side. Place cooked banana on a paper towel.

Heat a grill pan to medium heat then add brioche slices, cook both sides until zebra-like lines appear on bread. Spread one side of sanga with nutella and the other with mascarpone. Place bananas on top of nutella side and then add the other slice. Top off with a good dollop of mascarpone and decorate with a few crushed pistachios.

Wait for pop sound, that’s your artery. Whatevs. Eat up!!!



Most of the time, it’s a grim struggle to get even a small scoop of breakfast into me during the week. The reoccurring situation is a bowl of porridge in the microwave (no time for the stove, don’t judge) while I’m drying my hair, dashing out every 30 seconds to give it a stir. A lump of brown sugar and maybe some sliced banana if I’m lucky and an eight-second throwdown before falling out the door. Not quite up to food-blogger standards, I’ll admit that. So on Sundays it’s all about ordering anything but microwaved porridge. Last weekend my little sister and I skipped into Alexandria’s Bread & Circus for breakfast and got a little carried away, which always happens when the menu suggests “extras”. Extras are my crack.

The sourdough, for one, was as wide as my palm, and much more delicious. Organic avo with olive oil and coriander, ashed goat’s chevre, free-range, preservative-free leg ham and slices of the reddest tomato (alas the boiled egg got lost somewhere between the kitchen and my plate). What we have here is the fixings of an excellent, excellent open-faced breakfast sandwich. Washed down with a fresh juice from a mish-mash of healthy fruits, we left feeling decidedly proud of ourselves, because we may have found the best breakfast in town.




Breakfasts Monday through Friday are typically boring. Come the weekend and I let my creative juices flow and cook something flashy and full of flavour.

This weekend’s breakfast was a recreation of Spanish Eggs, a dish I discovered in a quirky little tapas bar off Las Ramblas on my recent trip to Barcelona. Spanish Eggs is a dish consisting of poached eggs laid on top of a thick spicy tomato sauce and served with toast.

The dish was surprisingly easy to recreate at home. The spicy tomato sauce is created by combining all the ingredients (including tomatoes, garlic, onion, spices and chorizo) in a saucepan and simmering for thirty minutes. After poaching eggs and placing on top of the mixture I served with hot buttered toast and a sprinkling of fresh parsley and parmesan.

This dish can be made by anyone, from the cooking enthusiast to the kitchen novice. Rich with flavour and made with ease I can see the Spanish Egg’s now making a regular appearance at the breakfast table on weekends and even, if just for a few minutes, it makes me feel like I’m back holidaying in Spain.



Fairy floss or cotton candy, is the breakfast of champions. There’s nothing better than a cloud of pink spun sugar to kick start the day! A day out at Luna Park doesn’t fully begin until fairy floss is consumed.



Growing up in Shanghai provided me with my earliest and fondest memories of food. My favourite meal of the day has always been breakfast, having been spoilt with choice by the plethora of food carts that lined ourstreet in the morning. But when we stayed in to eat, the staple for breakfast was always my grandmother’s zhou (congee). Steaming hot with crispy you tiao (deep-fried bread) fresh from a street stall, the rice porridge would always be the perfect way to warm up a frigid Shanghai morning.

When the weather in Sydney took a turn for winter last week, I braved the winds and walked down to Chinatown in the morning for some comfort food. Superbowl on Dixon St has a wide selection of congee with a variety of toppings, where the servings are huge and the prices are tiny. One big bowl of congee with fried bread will set you back less than $12 and feed at least two or three mouths. I ordered the sampan congee, which is filled with pieces of squid, fish, pork intestines and honeycomb tripe, then topped with peanuts, chopped shallots and fried wonton skins. A plate of fried bread is my preferred accompaniment, crispy and moreish, perfect for dunking into the congee after a heavy-handed drizzle of soy sauce. The cleansing congee is like a doona, warm and mothering for when you’re sick – my version of chicken soup.



Sometimes you wake up hungover and you do something logical and normal like have a fry up and percolate some fresh coffee with your friends/family/girlfriend/boyfriend and sometimes you wake up incredibly drunk on your lounge room floor after being out all night like a fucking fool and leave the house instantly and buy a fucking delicious cake from whatever patisserie feels good and cigarettes and cask wine because you blew all your money like a fucking idiot and then you get home and wolf that motherfucking cake down like a gigantic 4 year old and pour some wine and light up a cigarette and take a picture of it all… and then realise that the picture may replace #yolo as the worst thing on the internet to explain why you have been the worst person in real life. [I’m sorry Pedestrian.tv you didn’t give me enough time and I’ve had a lot on over the last few days/nights; I normally eat like a Sultan]