Melbourne Cafe Reviews

The Brunswick East Project
438 Lygon St
Brunswick East
Ph (03) 9939 8422

This place is the first I’ve been to that I’d describe as a modern day Coffee Bar. That is, the focus is definitely on coffee, with bites available as accompaniments to your coffee. Friands, slices, and muffins adorn a counter area near the large shiny and serious looking coffee machine.

It took some getting used to. I’m familiar with cafes that provide the full breakfast option, available all day. I’d say that’s a Melbourne love. But here, perhaps, we are moving gently beyond our initial embrace of ‘the breakfast cafe’ and into a new realm.

There’s an airy, light feel here. Wait staff aren’t frantically delivering copious plates of food whilst at the same time hoping the orders aren’t mixed as well as hoping that whatever peculiar breakfast tastes their customer has are met by the meal they receive. Here, instead, a person who clearly enjoys making coffee is dedicated to the coffee machine whist other staff roam about, bring out orders, chat with customers and package coffee.

This cafe also roasts coffee. There’s an interesting collection of rubber stamps alongside a stack of brown paper coffee bags which appear to be the equipment used to identify the variety of blends available.

Music isn’t loud. The seating arrangement manages to be interesting and allows one to quietly lob in a spot and feel undisturbed. There’s two modest armchairs in the front window with a round coffee table between them; this appears to be favourite spot. Today two interesting looking women in their late forties occupy these seats; one has the quiet observational presence of a writer.

A section of bar seating runs alongside a bench across the northern wall and there’s a communal table shared by both staff and customer, which breaks down the dividing line between the two. The roasting machine is housed in a small open room further in, and beyond this is another room with more seating. The whole area is filled with natural light permeated by the beautifully rich smell of freshly ground coffee beans. And the coffee’s good. My long black comes steaming hot with a golden crema.

Though I’d only ordered a long black and friand and three-quarters of an hour had passed, my water glass is filled, making me feel in no hurry to move on or place another order.

Spoons Cafe
42 Sackville St
Port Fairy
Ph (03) 5568 3452

A brief note. We’d dined here the night before (very good) and now I pop in for a coffee. Intimate space. Two lemon easy chairs. Papers. My l.b. is perfect—half fill, rich crema and a small jug of hot water if I wish to alter the strength. A perfect shortbread on a dark green plate. This place is run by young people with vigor and enthusiasm. Highly recommended.

Bella Claire Gourmet House
28 Bank St
Port Fairy
Ph (03) 55681610

Large square date scones arrive on square white plates with two big triangles of butter in a small round jar. I ask for my strong l.b. and the girl says, ‘double shot?’ She asks the amount of water I want. Two-thirds fill I say. When the coffee lands it’s good. This place does lunches and sells gourmet goodies of all descriptions—biscuits, condiments, cheeses, jams—as well as Timboon icecream. A few tables out on the street, some inside the shop and a scattering out to the courtyard in the rear. I like it out here in a narrow breezeway with a rough scribbled wall on one side and a solid bluestone on the other. To the north I lift my gaze and see big columns swell in the sky. Two unseen persons recount tales of their childhood. Things aren’t cheap here in Port Fairy, but who cares? The service is amiable, time is ample, it’s early Feb 09 and kids and teachers now back in their shackles.

The Epicurean Delicatessen
79 Mitchell St
Bendigo
Ph (03) 5443 2699

Earlier in the morning I’d peered through the windows of this establishment and noticed a distinguished looking man of mature years at work on the coffee machine. After a succession of lukewarm efforts at other places, would my luck turn when I came back in the afternoon?

Why is it that invariably in country Victoria, the province of coffee-making is anybody’s job—kids, girls—with all the attendant horrors of general disinterest, lack of style, overfull cups, and dirty machines? But when I front in, it’s a girl at the machine. My l.b. is hot enough, but no crema and a flat texture.

At least my small humingbird cake is fine. Small selection of tarts, pastries, cakes and biscuits. Large selection of Italian meats and cheeses. Vivaldi and guitar music on the CD.

Strong plastic French-style chairs. A few tables and chairs outside on the pavement. There’s a courtyard at the rear, with four or five small olive trees in large pots. Coffee machines for sale. A warm wall of Tuscan red, large gilt-frame mirror. Photos of Paris & Venice in black and white.

No prices displayed—a worry. This is one of those places where you cop the glance on entering. There’s an air of aloofness and complacency here that disquiets me.

Lyn (left) and Teresa discuss a poem over a glass of wine

Submissions are now being sought for the CAFÉ POET PROGRAM. (Submission time has passed) The Australian Poetry Centre is seeking poets, in each Australian State or Territory, interested to sit as ‘poet-in-residence’ in a café in their capital city for a period of six months getting free tea or coffee while you write.

Please apply by emailing the Australian Poetry Centre with an expression of interest stating a) all your contact details, b) what you would get out of being the poet in residence, c) a clear personal objective focussing on what you would like to achieve with your poetry in the six months and d) a measurable public objective to benefit others, such as being prepared to give a reading at the end of it, or providing the cafe with a poem to display.

Deadlines for applications are Feb 20th, 2009.

For more details see the Australian Poetry Centre website (2009 Program—special opportunities) or call the office on (03) 9527 4063.

Dench Bakers
109 Scotchmer St
North Fitzroy
Ph 9486 3554

I’ve lobbed here with two companions, so it’s past the wall and into the kitchen and a seat for three at a bench of polished and painted wood in colours of red, blue white and yellow.

It’s early afternoon at this clearly popular place and many products have sold out—no escargots, fruit buns or croissants. So I settle for a small citrus tart of exquisite quality—rich, melting, syrupy. My l.b. is excellent.

Staff are polite, intelligent, courteous. Our glasses of water are filled as required. No fuss. There’s plenty of staff moving about the place. Music is soft.

Cooked breakfasts include poached/fried eggs on organic sourdough, cinnamon french toast and parsley, or scrambled eggs on brioche with oven roasted tomato. Patrons in for lunch are referred to the specials board—chef’s salad, tart of the day, egg and bacon pie with salad. There’s even take-home meals including dips and soups.

It strikes me that the ready, natural filling of the glasses is a sign: stay here, you don’t need to buy more, we like your company …

I’m putting Derrida aside for the moment and reading Carver. Beat this for an opener: ‘My marriage had just fallen apart. I couldn’t find a job. I had another girl. But she wasn’t in town. So I was at a bar …’

I ask the waitress if she’s heard of Raymond Carver. She hasn’t. I write Carver’s name on a slip of paper and make to give it to the waitress when we leave. But she’s on the ball—she shows me ‘Raymond Carver’ written on a serviette.