In most cases, when rising waist tensions call for it, one has to resign themselves to the use of the extra notch on their belt. On occasion, however, that extra notch is to be embraced as a friend; the necessary aftermath of food so good that it only knows indulgence. Restraint is not invited to this café, found in one of the rural towns of South West Australia.

Lynlee was a self-taught baker that had led to this family venture. While the cakes were typically the star of the café's Instagram, everything on the menu had clearly received its due care and attention and was consequently superb. I know because I sampled it all, maintaining a particular soft spot for scrambled eggs in the morning and cream tea in the afternoon (and how my face lit up with each offering of a pot of tea). Somewhere inbetween gleefully stuffing my face and the coffee on tap we photographed our way through the menu as well as the construction of a couple of the showstopper cakes.

Then at the end of each day everyone returned home - the kind of home the internet infrastructure stops just short of - for dinner on the deck around the table with the family where we would remain until sleep called. Among many conversations I learnt the intricacies of what a bogan is, if AFL should or should not be taken seriously as a sport and not to mention a few other (read: another language's worth of) Australian colloquialisms.

@ladymarmaladebakes