Toast will do it to you.

Only moments ago I was going through photo's of our recent trip to the Blue Mountains, west of Sydney, and squealing at the pure simplicity of jam on toast. Sourdough raisin bread with homemade strawberry jam and apricot marmalade. And of course the goodness of butter. Clearly the ultimate paring with toast.

You have to close your eyes and imagine that we've just taken a stroll down the side of the Three Sisters, three tall and slender rock formations at the edge of what is one of the most beautiful national parks you'll ever experience, it's 7am and as chilly as Seattle, let it be known, in the middle of June. So toast with butter and jam was literally a slice of heaven.

Though a little arctic, the skies were as blue as the mountains that surrounded us and the sight of smoke coming out of chimneys as we passed by sleepy houses was almost enough for me to leave my raining life in Seattle behind. Did I mention the leaves that were still clinging onto the tree's for dear life had turned the colour of red wine, with nothing but sun shining from behind to light up their day? That at seven in the morning, the light in Australia that shines on your face has you closing your eyes and just smiling?

Now with the feeling of morning light shining on your cheek, you should know a little about how we found the Elephant Bean Cafe. Thanks to my many years of accumulating random food magazines that I didn't even realize I had collected, until mum let me loose in my old bedroom when we arrived in Australia and I was in crap collecting bliss. I happened upon an article all about the Blue Mountains, knowing that we were headed that way, at the last minute before jumping in the car for the airport, I ripped it out, shoving it in my bag for more dust to be homed.

It wasn't until we were parked on a slope in a leafy neighbourhood in Katoomba at ten o'clock at night, trying to sleep off our pizza coma from dinner, that Glenn was searching for something to read. Since I was happy with whatever book I was reading at the time, never getting on the road without one, I rummaged through our suitcase, annoyed, and reefed out a bunch of mismatched articles.

Nestled in amongst those recipes and dreamy places to eat, was an article on the Elephant Bean Cafe. And there you have it. Four years later, a boxed up heap of food magazines served a purpose. The purpose of delicious house made bread, jams, and hot, brewed coffee.

This delicious little number had a few breakfast choices, one of them hosting white beans and chorizo sausage. Though I found it really hard to veer away from the purity of toast, so toast it was.

We were sitting on the rickety old miss matched tables and box seats out the front, watching the world of uniformed awkward teenagers and nonchalant bums wake up. This is was life is all about, I'm thinking, eating toast on a crisp Autumn morning, the brilliant light on your face leaving you speechless and wanting nothing but more of what you're feeling right at that moment.