Ph (07) 3391 7771

Hosted high on the abeiling cliffs above the Brisbane River, Cliffs speaks breeziness and style. This is a wall-free cafe, with a steel deck roof, equipped with comfortable white and orange coloured plastic chairs. It can be accessed by the road from above, or via 105 steps from the river path below. The search for a decent coffee in Brisbane can prove to be one of high adventure, but on this breezy August day I find my Piazza Doro lb well-made, well-structured, and not full to the rim. (They charge extra for a double-shot.) Good selection of cakes, and my slice thereof comes with a generous whack of fair dinkum cream. (Yes folks, the fake stuff still lives on in other cafes around this town.) Other food items beside cakes are of course available – biscuits, brownies, baguettes, quiche, lasagna, frittata, croissants, rolls…

Jacaranda trees line the road. Two fine wire baskets contain light black blankets available for patrons to enwrap themselves in on this coolish day.

Ph (08) 8357 0200

This little place is nicely raised a foot or so from the pavement. No music at the time I call – mid afternoon – or rather it’s the natural music of all the sounds around me – voices, the gurgling of the Nvova Simonelli and the clatter and tinkle of work. I have a table by the window and take time to gaze at the elegant eucalypt and the stone church across the road. Coffee, cake – lunch offerings – risotto, soup, tart, frittata, pasta, daily salads, fish, beef burgers, dips, cheese platters – also many breakfast items – bircher muesli, croissants, eggs, Belgian waffles, bruschetta… Coffee is good, food is good. Comfortable wooden chairs on steel frames, polished terrazo floor. Many items for sale – cured meats, magnificent range of specialty cheeses (entered by a sliding door into a temperature-controlled cool room), jams, sauces. Stainless steel, concrete, wood … spotlights gleam on painted blackboards with guiding notes on mustards and relishes, coffees ’n teas. Spanish food, Italian food. Uniquely Unley, uniquely burgher. But fun.

Ph 0438 301 566

Now folks this is truly a little off beat job. Traveling north up the Henty from Warracknabeal, and through the tiny hamlets of Brim and Beulah, one arrives at the Mallee Sunsets Gallery Cafe, converted white timber church located right on the highway.

There is an outdoor dunny and a few tables outside on the cooler southern side of the building. Here you will find Mallee shrubs and geraniums and quaint unobtrusive knickknacks too numerous for detail. Walk outside to the road wending west and gaze east. You’ll be amazed at the beautiful line of the land, the dottings of trees, and the vast empty sky. You may even be overcome by the remoteness and loneliness of this locale — a special pleasure and delight for those whose souls are solitary.

Inside there are 7 or 8 tables. Maxine’s photos on a wall and there’s also artworks and a teddy bear collection. In one corner, in a shrine-like arrangement, are photographs of all the weddings that have ever taken place with the structure’s once-sanctified portals. Maxine Mitchell is the proprietor and she is also a picture-framer. In addition she sells jewelery and framed cross-stitching. The cafe serves good coffee (make sure you notify Maxine that you are a connoisseur), and wonderful light fluffy scones with oodles of jam and cream. There are no cakes, but a variety of biscuits. She serves sandwiches and light lunches.

If you’re coming south down the highway from Mildura or Ouyen you will find this oasis some 10k south of Hopetoun.

Mallee Sunsets is open Wednesday to Sunday, 9.00–5.30 pm. Highly recommended.

A soft shaft of light falls upon the beige cover of the Larousse Encyclopedia of Wine lurking alongside bottles of Grampians Estate resting calmly in bookshelves. On this hot and humid February day the sight could confuse the senses into believing it a tranquil autumn afternoon. A slice of flourless orange cake served on a big square plate with a drizzle of lemon and a small pyramid of rather dubious cream. But the cake is good and so is my l.b. Eureka Coffee. Have not come across it before. There’s a few people here both for lunch and coffee. I catch the flash of trucks zooming by from beyond the leafy vine-covered verandah. I note that lunch serves seem generous and there’s the standard selection of cakes and bix. Across the road sits the fabled Royal Mail Hotel, also host to good coffee and cake. Local wines, available by the bottle and the glass, are reasonably priced. The magnificent ’09 Riesling from Bests is $25. Seven or eight tables and a small lounge area. Two fans whirr in the ceiling. The voices of others are soft and cutlery tinkles. I’m on my way to Port Fairy.

Ph 9480 2500

The Pearl of the North

There’s four sections. Street, inner right, central in, and out the back. I’m here inner right, at a large brown table surrounded by stools bolted to the floor. There’s also a generous sized round table for four and two tables against the wall for two or three. A sideboard has various articles on top including a butcher paper dispenser and crayons for kids to draw with. The walls are white and the floor a blueish grey. A collection of pictures are hung on the wall to my right, a child holding a koala bear, ballerinas, seascapes. A large round mirror is mounted to the wall in front of me and there’s a captain’s hat hanging from the wall to my left. The windows to the street are wide and tall.

The phone’s stopped ringing so I’ve escaped here to Pearl on this blustery sunny Melbourne day. I order field mushrooms with goat’s cheese and a long black. This cafe is spacious, friendly and warm. I know it can get busy too, but today it’s a relaxed crowd of those lucky enough to take part or whole of their Friday off. Who knows, maybe every Friday’s a day off for the folk here?

The cafe is here to serve and thus represents the gradual northward march of Melbourne’s hip crowd who value the shopping strip over the shopping centre, have a distaste for McMansions, and like to keep their public transport options open. The No. 47 West Preston tram can be seen to rumble past occasionally from Pearl’s wide street facing windows.

My long black is excellent, coming out at the proper hot temperature which allows me to take my time with it. The field mushrooms and goats cheese is also well received and comes with a surprise: whole roasted garlic cloves.

I compose myself in a chair on the wide pavement, one coffee-sipper amongst many. The coffee is fine, and there is a wide variety of cakes and meals available. Upstairs in Berkelouw Books there is a wine bar, a grand piano and 40,000 second-hand books. Downstairs, the regular bookshop. I peruse my copy of Cormac McCarthy’s Blood Meridian. He’s as hard as flint, as direct as a straight hit for 6. There is also seating available inside the bookshop, but some of it those damn banquettes which I always find distancing and uncomfortable. Get rid of them.

This wedge of a corner cafe is a beauty. No bar or counter to separate owners, workers and patrons. The coffee is good and there’s a selection of cakes, toasts, etc. The place is open to both streets and only a few tables grace its space. You sit back with your book, paper, laptop or sketchbook, and listen to the roar of buses and traffic along King St. It’s all inner-Sydney cool. The cafe scene along King St shows considerable variation and a gem like this rewards the discerning eye. Worth many a return.

As well as coffee, this cute little operation purveys icecreams and wines. Black, white and grey decor; terrazo floor; black bentwood chairs. These people clearly think their food is good and want patrons to see it so. Interesting cakes — Italian — cannoli etc. My l.b. comes hot and is of fine flavour. On street seating. $14 for tea, coffee and two small cakes. Recommended.

Ph (02) 9660 3797

A mere two nights in the great city finds me in a bus on Broadway that steps me down at the start of Glebe Point Road. I must confess to a love of Sydney and its inner locale—Glebe, Rozelle, Balmain, Redfern, Potts Point, Paddington, Newtown. I am pulled, inevitably, to one or the other.

I wander until I reach the corner at Francis St, and the cafe that etches itself here. I enter, and find a nest of little wooden booths, some with single seats, solid parquet hardwood floor (yes I like hardwood floors and the gain of timber), soft off-red walls and wide windows out to Glebe Point Road and Francis St. Service is excellent—genuine friendly people—and efficient. Music comes at correct vol—never disturbing of talk but softly loud enough to listen to if in the mood. This is the type of place where it can be difficult (between the hours of 6 to 7.30) to find a table. Portions are large; coffee is good. Example: antipasto platter of hummus dips, olives, greens, feta, bread, tomato and dill pickle @ $13.50 is enough for two. This applies to most of the meals. I eat here two nights and on both I notice the presence of cops who come in to order takeaway coffee; must be a good sign.

The crowd could be loosely termed ‘university’. Books and notebooks are present. There are many sole patrons.

Opening hours? Seems to be open all day and most of the evening (i.e. eating hours). Highly recommended.

Ph (02) 6563 2287

This is the only other cafe option on the island apart from Thompson’s General Store which only serves coffee in paper cups. Humpty Mick’s doubles as a kind of flash restaurant for breakfast, lunch and dinner. It is also a bakery producing breads, pastries, cakes and slices of reasonable quality.

I gaze out through the glass doors past a screen of noble Norfolk Island pines and to the azure waters of the lagoon, to the magnificent mass of rock that is Mt. Gower, the tallest if the twin peaks on this dot of an isle on the South Pacific. I sit at a table set squarely on a hardwood floor. There are ten other customers on this late Sunday morning in May. My Lavazza long black is hot, maybe lacking in some punch, but acceptable by Melbourne standards.

White-painted walls, beige umbrellas, comfy cane chairs, chrome and stainless steel. Yep, my kind of place.

I have been here an hour and not one single car have I seen. A rack of bikes is out past the lone telephone booth. The Co-Op over the road is open. A three year old (with mother!) pushes a tiny tot in a pusher down the middle of the road.