Fergus Noodle

Coles maybe you could have used a slightly different description for this cat food

The RSPCA NSW Shoalhaven Shelter is today celebrating its most successful year for animal adopts ever. The Shelter, located in Nowra, rehomed 550 animals during the last financial year (July 2012-June 2013) – a whopping increase of 102 animals from the previous year.

“We are greatly appreciative to the residents of the Shoalhaven for their continued generosity, both financial and for material needs such as blankets, bedding and toys,” said Sharon Johnson, RSPCA Shoalhaven Shelter Manager.

“We also couldn’t have been this successful without the continued support of local media outlets that feature our Pets of the Week and regularly cover our news and events,” Johnson added.

Check out the animals currently available at the Shoalhaven Shelter or a shelter near you: http://www.adoptapet.com.au/

She is known as Belén. She is eleven years old and 14 months pregnant. She was raped repeatedly by her mother’s boyfriend over the course of two years. The mother claims the relationship that started when her daughter was NINE was consensual. Thankfully, Belén’s grandmother doesn’t see it that way, and she alerted the police to the abuse, which the boyfriend admitted to. There are several reasons even an anti-choicer would think Belén deserves an abortion:

• She is eleven years old.
• She is a rape victim.
• She is the victim of incest.
• The pregnancy poses a serious health risk to Belen.
• The health of the fetus is at risk

Belén’s doctors want to terminate. But they are afraid to. Because Belén happens to live in one of the five countries (along with El Salvador, the Dominican Republic, Nicaragua, and Malta) that does not allow abortions under any circumstances. So, tragically, outrageously, and– I wish– unbelievably, Belén is being forced to carry her pregnancy to term in a country controlled by conservative sectors and the Catholic Church. Chile’s abortion laws have regressed. Abortion in Chile used to be legal for medical reasons, but the notoriously authoritarian and torture-loving dictator Augusto Pinochet put an end to that when he took power in a coup in 1973. Though the country is no longer living under dictatorship, it continues to live its legacy and under dictatorial abortion laws. Chile only legalized divorce in 2004. Chile’s president, the conservative Sebastián Piñera opposes reforming Chile’s abortion laws. And last year the senate voted against bills that would have legalized abortion in the case of rape, a nonviable fetus, and for the health and safety of the woman.

This may sound similar. In another extremely conservative and Catholic Latin American country,  El Salvador, doctors wanted wanted to terminate the pregnancy of a patient whose health and life were at risk and whose fetus had Anencephaly, a severe and lethal birth defect in which the brain or part of the brain is missing. Thanks to the international media attention and pressure, El Salvador ultimately allowed Beatriz, who is 22 and suffers from lupus and almost died during her first pregnancy, to have an abortion. But they claimed the abortion was a delivery and removed the fetus through a c-section, which is much more dangerous than the D&C Beatrice’s doctors wanted to perform. Or you may be thinking of another extremely Catholic country in Europe, where a woman was denied an abortion of her nonviable fetus because Ireland “is a Catholic country.” In this case, Savita Halappanavar died.

We have to make sure to raise our voices in this case as well and support Chilean campaigns to reform abortion laws. And there is some good news. Former president Michele Bachelet and survivor of torture under Pinochet, who is likely to win the presidency once again, is committed to changing legalizing abortion, at least in the cases of rape and for health reasons, as she tweeted on Friday, the day the story of Belen broke.

Singapore Swings

by LARA MILLS

I was a backpacker equivalent the first time I came to Singapore. Over a year and several trips later Singapore is the only place where I land and pray I do not look like a backpacker. Now being scruffy feels like misrepresenting myself. Some might say this is progress or growth.

The Singapore immigration desk that stamps your passport at the airport gives you little mint or grape candies from a dish scooped out of itself. One foot beyond that is a plastic cup labeled “SWEET WRAPPERS ONLY” which is full of candy wrappers and nothing else. Soldiers pass with giant guns while you wait for your bag at baggage claim and later a little girl marches one-two in front of her mother’s cart before ordering it to STOP at the line of roughly fifty groups of people waiting for a taxi. Changi’s airport luggage carts brake aggressively. The girl and her mother are wearing matching black and white striped dresses. The line takes ten minutes; that’s five taxis deployed a minute, one every twelve seconds. Up front the old woman in charge is directing her clients to the refilling row of cars behind her with a white gloved hand and ruthless, silent efficiency.

My taxi driver has an iPhone which directs us in a calm measured voice to my hotel. The driver remarks on the different particulate sizes contained in the smog blown over from Sumatra last week and what facemasks can properly filter them. Huey Lewis starts playing on the radio, my favorite, favorite song when I was little. I used to stop walking in the middle of grocery store aisles and dance in spasms because of this song. I stare out the window and watch the city grow up around us.

Later I take a walk and let Singapore show me what it wants me to see. This is a perfect city for traveling alone. It answers every question I have and directs me towards everything I need and everything which sparkles. As I walk sometimes I notice hidden turnoffs and tunnels for workers – they are grey and uninviting and not intended for me. For the visitor there are lights and tree-lined walkways to follow. Often these walkways end at a finance center or mall. After all Singapore does need to pay for itself. It is not a cheap date.

There is only ever the present here but the present can be so damn lovely. Sitting on a low concrete wall by the harbor I inhale and send cigarette smoke into space. The concrete I’m curled up on is still warm from the sun which set an hour ago. The smoke twists over the water and takes on the million glassy colors of the skyscraper lights in front of me, all their colors visible and invisible, then disappears into the backdrop, first fading out as a sweet smell, and then nothing.

I smoke like this in cities the night before I leave them. The last time I was in Paris I knew it might be years until I was there again. I threw the cigarette into the river once it was finished; being a willful polluter bought me the cheapest landscape in the city, a permanent presence as an unwelcome piece of young American backpacker trash in France. That was six years ago. Here the harbor water looks immaculate. I think they might fine me if I throw my cigarette anywhere but a designated disposal. I will find a trash can. There are cameras.

And there’s a breeze – I could sit here by the harbor forever with this breeze. It doesn’t fill my pores with motorbike exhaust or my lungs with twice the tar I fill them with myself. It rolls off the water and brushes my hair back without a word.

“Excuse me can I buy you a drink?” “Huh?” A middle-aged man walking by would apparently like a cigarette and my company. I can’t tell where he’s from, maybe Indian. There’s no one else around. I give him an Indonesian clove and we chat a little. “So Jakarta, is it nice?” “Not really.” “Then why do you live there?”

I laugh this off but he doesn’t. He looks at me and watches me and really wants to know. I tell him that Jakarta is not a very easy city. I never say I don’t like it. He asks, “Are you sure? Are you sure it’s not hard because you have difficulty… blending in?” I have no idea what he means even though I might know exactly what he means. I consider responding in Indonesian but it’s not worth the attention. I shift from my wall to get back to my walk and wish him a safe night, a redundancy.

I walk for another hour or two without knowing where. Headphones at night are safe here and it is a pleasure to soundtrack the skyline. My iPhone says “NO SERVICE” yet google maps can somehow still show me myself, a moving blue dot among the boulevards. Singapore found me before I even knew I was lost. I don’t know where I want to go yet but it would like a say in the matter.

A day or two later I have to leave. After checking in to my flight I stop to watch an art installation outside security at Changi Airport. Hundreds of golden orbs are suspended on individual transparent fishlines while some mechanism in the ceiling above makes the orbs rise and dip in unison along each of their vertical tracks. It is hypnotic. A crowd starts gathering as music crescendos and the orbs accelerate up and down in concert with all the other orbs, beautiful movement from collective order, like ocean waves or backwards rain. 

I picture the headline: passenger misses flight because Changi is too beautiful. I start walking.

Once inside security I am asked twice how I am feeling. The first is a woman in AirAsia’s bright red uniform who walks up to me holding an iPad. The iPad is beaming as it asks me to use smiley faces to rate how I had felt about the airline’s check-in process and whether the check-in ladies had smiled at me. Sure, click. Then after I use the bathroom a smiley face on a video screen embedded in the wall asks me to rate my experience of the facility. I am almost glad it asked since the automatic hand dryer hadn’t been hot enough and cost me thirty seconds of my time in Changi. The rest was fine though so I give the experience a quick thumbs up. The smiley face winks and I walk out.

I mentally ask Singapore for drinking water and an internet hotspot and find both next to each other at my gate. My flight pulls away on time to the minute. By standards of execution Singapore is a masterpiece. The surveys I answered feel like a model asking whether I can see her wrinkles through layers of photoshop. I would never have thought to check but since she asked they must be there, and they must be on her mind. I imagine she might look relieved if I tell her she looks flawless.

Lara Mills is the senior contributor to This Recording. She is a writer living in Jakarta. You can find her website here. You can find an archive of her writing on This Recording here.

Photographs by the author.

"Tahquamenon Falls" - Sufjan Stevens (mp3)

"All Good Naysayers, Speak Up! Or Forever Hold Your Peace!" - Sufjan Stevens (mp3)

 

So you're comfortably down with Vietnamese and Thai, but when was the last time you had South African for dinner? South Africans may only make up 0.7% of Sydney's population but that still means a total of 28,193 ex-pats, according to the national census in 2006. South African cuisine offers an interesting melting pot of flavours, shaped and expanded by a long history of colonisation. Dutch

In case you were wondering if the racist “Asians can’t drive” stereotype was alive and well, here are some select tweets from the collection at Public Shaming (h/t to @Kevin_Stainback):

And some couldn’t stop themselves from making fun of how some Asian people look:

More, including accusations of North Korean terrorism, at Public Shaming, one of the most deeply disappointing sites on the web.

Lisa Wade is a professor of sociology at Occidental College. You can follow her on Twitter and Facebook.

(View original at http://thesocietypages.org/socimages)

This is a guest post by Gloria Malone. Gloria is a freelance writer, blogger, and teen and young parent advocate based in NYC. You can find her on Twitter and on her personal blog, teenmomnyc.com.

I was 15 years old when I had my daughter. A week after having her I went to my post birth appointment and was told by the doctor that she had already scheduled an insertion appointment for a five year hormonal Mirena IUD all I had to do was say yes and this “super convenient, hassle free, and no pill” form of birth control would be mine. My teenage self agreed and a few days later I had my IUD. However, the process of having it inserted and getting it removed would not be easy, breezy, or hassle free.

It would be years before I realized I was essentially pushed into an IUD because of my age, lack of knowledge on birth control, and her lack of discussing any other options for me expect the only thing on the market closest to temporary sterilization.

My IUD did its job well and during the seven years of having it – two years past the 5 year deadline – I did not have another unintended pregnancy. However, doctor after doctor informed me that my IUD could not be found and was lost inside of my body. With no insurance I did what most uninsured Americans do: I sucked it up and hoped for the best.

When I finally got insurance I went to the doctor to see if they could locate the lost IUD and remove it. While the most important thing on my mind was finding the IUD to make sure it didn’t migrate too far up, was embedded in my uterine wall, or had torn through my uterine wall, the doctors seemed more concerned about what was going to be my next form of birth control.

At first I welcomed their questions.

As someone who feels more physicians and patients need to discuss birth control options, I was glad to see doctors having that conversation but when the questions over arched the concern of the lost IUD that was causing me extreme pain I became frustrated. It seemed that all these doctors cared about was how I was going to make sure I wouldn’t procreate.

Every time I was asked what form of birth control I wanted next – even after they read my chart and saw I did not want any – the conversation felt more like an interrogation:

*Strange look from doctor*

Me: Yes, I’m sure.

Dr.: What are you going to do if you have intercourse?

Me: I haven’t had intercourse in years, don’t plan on it, and when I do feel I will become sexually active again I will consider my options then. Plus there are always condoms, which are the only form of birth control that protect against sexually transmitted diseases and unintended pregnancy.

Dr.: You don’t WANT any other baby do you? You don’t want another unintended pregnancy right? Why are not wanting more birth control?

*I’d stare at them with a blank stare and usually repeat what I just said*

Dr.: Okay. Be sure to make an appointment with our family planning department before you leave. *Passes me birth control pamphlets and tells me to reconsider*

Choice and access to women’s health services are just as important as respecting the decisions women and women alone make about their reproductive health choices. Not wanting or refusing birth control is no different. It’s my personal choice and not one I should be interrogated over.

While we advocate for access and choice let us not forget that refusing birth control is a decision that should be respected just as much as the decision to start birth control, terminate a pregnancy, or anything else a women chooses to do with her body.

Remember the days of forced sterilization and eugenics on predominately woman, and more specifically women of color are not a distant history.

Eugenics and forced sterilizations were–and in some countries continue to be–a way to breed out “genetically inferior traits.”

Women and men alike were often sterilized without their knowledge or consent.  Homes for the mentally handicapped had especially high rates of forced, while, as Juliana wrote last month, Latin@s accounted for approximately “20-30% of the 60,000 people who were coercively sterilized in the U.S., mostly in mental institutions in California. The majority of these people were women who were labeled as ‘bad girls’ or ‘sexually wayward’: in other words, women who didn’t follow the strict social norms set forth at the time.”

As recently as 1974 people all over the United States were legally sterilized by force–and the practice continues today, from hospitals to prisons, despite laws banning such abuse. Recognition of the lasting harm of such sterilizations is growing: In 2012 North Carolina finally decided that the state would compensate $50,000 to each survivor of forced sterilization. However, for survivors–many of whom were forced into sterilizations to qualify for much–needed public assistance–monetary compensation doesn’t begin to heal these wounds.

Choice is multifaceted. Let’s all remember that respecting one’s decision to choose not to use birth control is part of the fight.

I definitely have a love/hate relationship with winter. I love coats, scarves, boots, scotch, red wine and winter comfort food, but I seriously dislike rain, wind and cold - all of which we have unfortunately had in abundance! It's been a while since I made one of these lists, so I thought it was time to get my grateful on and share a few things that have been making me happy lately...

• epic birthday festivities • a pledge for this year - do fun shit! • lots and lots red wine • my favourite new apple toy •  planning my america trip (new york, san francisco, los angeles and honolulu - only 2 weeks away!) • the xx • this view • slumber parties with the girls • chantelle grady's amazing photography • sunny winter days • polka dots and red lipstick (again) • scotch on cold nights • dreaming about visiting morocco (thanks to kay) • epic homemade lasagne • searching for a turquoise couch • writing a 30 before 30 list • warm winter desserts!



A few people (you know who you are) were sceptical about this combination when I mentioned it, but I never had a doubt that it would turn out beautifully. It just feels perfect for this time of year. Self saucing puddings are a favourite of mine if you haven't noticed. They're so easy to make, and of course I couldn't resist boozing it up. I used Coopers Extra Stout, which has chocolate and coffee aromas, making it a perfect match.

I reduced the stout to a syrup to really concentrate the flavour, and although it was noticeable, it was quite subtle in both the pudding and the ice cream. Feel free to adjust the ratio of boiling water to stout syrup in the recipe below if you're a big fan!

candypriceless:

Welsh pro-wrestler Adrian ‘Exotic’ Street with his coalminer father down in the pit - photo by Dennis Hutchinson, 1973

This is edited obviously.

deelekgolo:

deelekgolo:

Harry Potter for the PlayStation 1 everybody.

I want to remind everyone of this.

despairkomaeda:

Do you ever think how surreal it is that there is an Internet subculture of young men who wear suits, collect guns and knives, disrespect women, but then watch a children’s cartoon about little fictional ponies and really enjoy it. Like I couldn’t make that up if I tried. How are we going to explain humanity to extraterrestrials at this rate

morelydia:

shenaniganations:

This, though. 

I love when we reframe issues to illustrate them as they are- the perpetrator’s problem.

ronaldmael:

Faye Dunaway eats a hard boiled egg

This is a guest post by Bryan Haut. Bryan is a 27-year-old cis dude who believes that women are human beings.

“Physically pick her up and sit her on your lap. Don’t ask for permission. Be dominant.”

“Pull out your cock and put her hand on it. Remember, she is letting you do this because you have established yourself as a LEADER. Don’t ask for permission…”

These are two, now infamous, pieces of Ken Hoinsky’s advice, taken from Reddit’s seduction community. Hoinksy, a self-professed pickup artist (PUA), has received 8 times his asked-for funding to write a book, Above the Game, to teach other lovelorn (or at least affection-lorn) men how to get laid. Two weeks ago, Kickstarter distributed over 16,000 crowd-sourced dollars to Hoinsky, and then, after those quotes became public, apologized for doing so. And though Hoinsky’s book is unpublished, the advice he has already written illustrates a major problem with the “wisdom” offered by the PUA community: it doesn’t lead to good sex.

There’s a common pickup artist narrative that goes like this: “I used to be nerdy. I used to be shy. I used to be bad at talking to girls. Just like you! But then I learned to be a real man, and now I’m drowning in women!  I am awesome.” This is the mythos of Neil Strauss, author of the New York Times Best Seller The Game, and of Vince Lin, founder of the website PUA Lingo, who claims that during his pick-up career he “has transformed himself from a nerdy 23-year-old virgin to dating hot girls most men dream of,” and it is unsurprisingly also the narrative adopted by Hoinsky in his Kickstarter appeal.

It is also true of me. I’m a 27-year-old, well, dude. I love video games and have been known to play Dungeons and Dragons. I was painfully virginal through high school. And I am unapologetically excited about action movies that feature Channing Tatum, explosions, and cheesy one-liners. And these days, at the risk of sounding like a Pickup Artist myself, I have a lot of really enjoyable sex. But more on that later.

It’s no surprise that PUA guides are popular. The 130,000 readers of Reddit’s seduction group clearly desire and respond to a sense of community. Strauss, Lin, and Hoinsky are “just like them,” after all, and can tell community members that they aren’t alone in their struggle. And PUA guides offer to make something scary—admitting attraction, approaching a woman, making yourself vulnerable—easier. With a step-by-step list of instructions, PUA guides turn flirting and romance into a measurable set of cause-and-effect interactions. And, if responses on Reddit are to be believed, the advice works—that is, it gets women into bed.

But I doubt its long-term power. After all, self-help books exist to make their readers happier. And if “The Game” did so, there would be no market for Above the Game, nor for whichever book will inevitably arrive after Hoinsky’s fades away.  And aside from its planned obsolescence, the nature of the advice is structured to give short-term, bad results: I suspect very few long term relationships grow out of step-by-step pickups, and I also doubt that women who go home with pickup artists still want to have sex with them the next morning.

Here’s why: because seduction communities exist mostly on the web and contain members who are most comfortable interacting through computers, they are tailored to that audience, and offer advice that turns flirting and romantic interactions into something very akin to a video game.

The seduction community has developed jargon-y terminology to describe interactions with women, and detailed metrics to track during encounters with them. The PUA community talks about balancing her IOI (indicator of interest) against your AA (Approach Anxiety). They launch into descriptions of how actions increase your DHV (Demonstration of Higher Value), or how a “wing” needs to disable an AMOG (Alpha Male of the Group, the superior man who could come in and snatch the prize away—or pry the snatch away). In the PUA framework, a set situation calls for a set response, much like in a video game.

But there are real dangers in this line of thinking. First, it makes any interaction mechanical, and by definition, non-human. But more importantly, it makes the woman your adversary. She’s become an object, like a non-player avatar in a game. You get her in bed when you’ve beaten the final level.  It is not a far jump from this view—of sex as a justified reward, as, in the words of sex writer Thomas Macaulay Millar, “a substance that can be given, bought, sold or stolen,” to one that not only endorses objectification, but also sexual coercion. In fact, Hoinsky’s advice did just that.

Following this advice, at worst you’re committing assault, but even at best, you’ll have lots of empty, mediocre sex. Avoiding assault is reason enough to walk away from PUA hucksterism, but on top of that, there’s this incontrovertible truth I’ve recently come around to: the best sex I’ve had is when I know my partner is enjoying what we’re doing. When I feel comfortable telling her what makes me feel best, when she feels comfortable telling me the same. This certainly cannot happen if she is your opponent, an enemy you must fool into submission. The best sex happens not when she’s just said yes because you’ve finally completed your set of instructions, but when she’s said “hell yes!” because she knows you both want one another.  She feels comfortable and wanted, and you haven’t had to dupe her into that. She isn’t “letting” you have sex with her; she wants it just as much as you do. How do you know what she wants? Because you’ve asked her.

This approach to women also works when you are simply approaching a woman; it works outside of the bedroom, too. Treat women as people, not as objects to be acted upon. Be assertive with, but not aggressive towards someone. Act with the woman, not on her. Hoinsky makes this mistake when he writes that a woman lets you touch her because, “you have established yourself as a LEADER.” PUA communities repeatedly tie confidence to aggression, when discussing physically taking charge—for instance, by grabbing her hand—or disarming an “alpha.” In that framework, you are the sole actor instead of being one of two (or more. Dream big!) participants. So, be assertive: acknowledge the (very real) “approach anxiety,” but be willing to say hello (here’s a great pickup line: “Hi, I’m Bryan. What’s your name?”), be willing to say what you want, and be willing to ask for what makes you feel good. And, for a good time, remember that enthusiastic consent is the chance for both people to feel wanted. And goddamn does it feel good to feel wanted by another real person with thoughts just like your own. A good first step is realizing that’s what women are.

I love video games, but I know when I’m not playing one. And hell, I’d prefer the woman with her hand on my penis to be a friend, not a foe.

freesamuel:

melaniehershberger:

foxeshunt:

i know these are supposed to hearts buT THEY JUST LOOK LIKE LITTLE BUTTS CAN YOU IMAGINE “BLEND IT OUT WITH YOUR ASS BRUSH”

How did this make it all the way to production without a single person saying something

hOHmygawd

emmyc:

thelobstersarecoming:

THIS IS THE BEST VERSION OF THE NEW SONG

new fav thing

Like many women, Reyna García had to work during her pregnancy. She submitted 3 doctor’s notes explaining her need to have a lighter work load due to her high risk pregnancy; all three of them were ignored. Then, in November, after experiencing pain, her request to leave work was denied. According to the complaint:

“García, a general merchandise manager at the Atascadero store, asked to leave work while in pain one day last November. But her request was turned down, and she continued heavy lifting at the store. She went into labor that night, rushed to the hospital and found out that her baby was losing fluid and sustaining brain damage, she says.

García gave birth two days later to a girl named Jade, but the baby only lived for a few minutes. According to the suit, ‘Baby Jade’s death over those several minutes was the most painful thing Ms. García had ever experienced.’”

Apparently management at Albertson’s, the grocery store where García worked, did not make attempts to accommodate her pregnancy by moving her to a different department that didn’t require the heavy lifting that she was required to do even after experiencing pain. This is against California law that states that employers must work in good faith to find reasonable accommodation for a pregnant worker.

Worker’s rights violations like these disproportionately affect low income women who cannot afford to take time off work in order to maintain health insurance benefits, take care of families, cover living expenses etc.. As we see here, the results can be fatal.

markovmodel:

i think more celebrities should have merchandise of themselves that include those mugs with heat-sensitive designs where you add hot liquid and their clothes disappear. 

emmyc:

I hate this show

markovmodel:

i’m playing a dressup game called Lovers Elope and i’m a little pissed that you can only dress the girl up, not the boy or the angry dad

chosen-name:

queerpunkscout:

fivelettered:

fuckbloggingandfuckdrugdoer:

Zombie movies are going to be popular as long as dudes fantasize about being in a situation where the most valuable possible trait is the capacity for heteromasculine violence and sociopathy towards the diseased and weak.

i never thought about them that way…but yeah.

woah

this is why I hate everything that involves zombies

zipitclark:

prettyfancy | thingssheloves

3 by alina_ganovaon Flickr.

Ahh, the migration of the rare golden retriever fish. What a rare and beautiful sight in nature.

Some places have a way of winning you over in record-breaking time. This is the case with In The Annex in Forest Lodge, which is now my new favourite cafe.

It's the kind of establishment where you order something unassuming, like Roasted Potato ($15), thinking it'll just be target practice for your knife and fork. Then the dish arrives at your table and it's this expectation-blitzing work of art – an exquisite sculpture collection on a plate, with zucchini ribbons unscrolling around clouds of potato puree; play coins of potato, so vibrantly coloured they're like escapees from a Miro painting; a feathery landing of dill and parsley, chunky edges of smoked cheddar and a dynamite stick of seeded Organic Bread Bar goodness. From plain-sounding order to knockout when fully revealed – it's kinda like the brunch version of The Ugly Duckling.

Perhaps this should be no surprise as the menu is by Joey Astorga (who can take credit for this cafe, alongside Edrick Santos and Theo Hlorotiris). He used to be head chef at El Capo in Surry Hills, which was home to a three-milk cake so good-looking that I called it the "Ryan Gosling of desserts". So, here, you can order a side of Avo ($4) to go with your breakfast, thinking it'll be another functional, background-receding dish, but it comes out as artful avocado crescents with radish slices that could be stunt doubles for lily blooms. And OK, so the Brussel Sprouts ($4), roasted and tossed through with sesame seeds, isn't exactly a pin-up beauty, but it's so flavoursome that it'd instantly erase the bad rep the vegetable has among green-fearing kids.

It's not the usual breakfast extra you'd see on a cafe menu either, but that's the charm of In The Annex - its selection is short, capped at five items for each daytime meal, but they're not the usual suspects. Early risers can order a Kale and Egg Roll with Chilli Relish and Aioli ($6.50; $8.50 with crispy speck) or Earl Grey Bircher Muesli with Pineapple and Passionfruit ($10), for instance; while lunchtime diners can ask for Cured Duck ($16) with brioche, duck egg and the excellent brussel sprouts; Crumbed Egg with Mushy Peas ($15) or Spiced Eggplant ($15), which is tucked in a tomato braise with potato chunks, olives, capers, poached egg ($15) – it's one of those warming, security-blanket dishes that feels like an upside to this miserable cold weather.

There are also inventive drinks – like a frappe blitzed together from grapefruit, honey, ginger and tonic ($8) – or something that's halfway between a virgin Bloody Mary and gazpacho (it's a savoury, icy crush of tomato, chilli, lime and celery). And good coffee by Umami and tea offerings by Ttotaler in Marrickville.

There's an eccentric charm to the space: tables, made of reclaimed wood, have that patchy reveal of old, withheld colours; a spice grinder is a hiding spot for toothpicks, while a Bankstown souvenir spoon is shovelled into a labware beaker functioning as a sugar pot. Many items were either recycled (such as the 100-year-old bricks) or happened to be unique scores from op shops. So In The Annex has this lived-in, age-worn appeal, like it's been here for ages, instead of only being a few weeks old. I like this place a lot, I hope it racks up a longevity that matches the lengthy lives of all the vintage goods scattered throughout.

In The Annex, 35 Ross St, Forest Lodge NSW. Follow In The Annex on Facebook

ruby-tuesday-xo:

Time to have fun with someone who texted the wrong number.

y10k:

I don’t throw the term genius around loosely, but..