Live to eat or eat to live, that is the question.

My mother has always maintained that there are two types of people in the world – those who eat to live, and those who live to eat. I am, not surprisingly, unquestionably the latter (as is my mother, in case you were wondering).

Eating, for me, is more than just what you do when you’re hungry. Eating for me can mean comfort, intimacy, friendship, fun, laughter, quietness, decadence – it can be full of emotion or it can be grounding. Above all it is an experience, and it is memory.

This last thing is what ties my love of travel to my love of food. Looking back, the first thing that comes to me when I think of a destination I have visited is the food. I can still taste the local speciality, Risotto all’Amarone (purple risotto), that I had in Verona; the fresher than fresh seafood I had at Jimbaran Beach in Bali; and – forgive me – the Dairylea triangles I ate on top of the Reichstag in Berlin.

I don’t normally go in for regrets, but if I had to have one it would not be writing the food journeys that have shaped my life to this point. So what better place to start than the other side of the world? Here I am, a young Englishwoman in the midst of her biggest globetrotting adventure yet, in Sydney, Australia. With its interesting mix of high-end restaurants, cheap and cheerful ethnic cuisines, burgeoning café culture – and according to some critiques an underlying problem with service – it’s a city I just can’t wait to get my teeth into.

So stick around for a fresh look as Sydney’s dining scene as well as regular feature articles and even interviews if you’re lucky (read: if I can get anyone to talk to me). Bon appetite!