Every now and then I come across a kitchen that perfectly personifies the person that uses it. Norman’s kitchen is one of them. It sits in blackwood, outside of Melbourne. Norman’s kitchen is as much a vault of the antique, otherworldly, and authentic as the rest of Norman’s house; as Norman himself for that [...]

Things can start better with breakfast. It’s not healthy or terribly attractive to eat, but neither are a lot of occasionally worthwhile things: nostalgia, an intermittent stab of regret, the curse of self-awareness, the pretentious listing of things. I have to eat those as well. None of them compare much to chicken [...]