Nshry

129a Beaconsfield Parade. Albert Park 3206. Opposite Kerferd Road

My sister told me to write about cafes again. So here I am.

I've gotta say, these days everybody has a food blog - fuck me it's trending more than Katy Perry's divorce. I stopped caring writing a while ago... I'm not really sure why.

I guess I got sick of writing about eggs and ham, everyone else was doing it, and like an indie devout giving up on their favourite band once it reaches pop culture, I decided there were bigger and better things to think about.

I also didn't think it was my place to rate a cafe. After all, I'm a nobody and I certainly can't make up a person's mind for them. However one thing I do know is this, every cafe has a bad day, just like you and I have a bad day occasionally. Perhaps we get out bed looking like shit, feeling like shit, or maybe even a bit of both. So cafes have bad days too.

Sometimes your eggs may be slightly undercooked, or you may have to wait an extra ten minutes for your coffee. Sure it's not ideal, but if you wanted your food instantly straight away, your coffee burnt extra hot, or your meal adapted in so many ways that it no longer resembled what was written on the menu, then you should stay at home, and cook your own fucking breakfast, or better yet, start your own cafe.

This is what most blogs are centred around - complaints from people who really have no right to complain at all. I was one of them, so that's kinda why I gave up. Anyway, I ended up writing about the people behind cafes, behind brands and sometimes behind nothing at all. You can read all about them at willowandblake.com

However, for old times sake, this morning I went out for breakfast and I felt compelled to write.

It's 2012, Happy Fucking New Year. I've just dove head first into the world of freelance writing, meaning I have all the time in the world to go out for breakfast, but no funds to finance these meetings of 'nom' - what a predicament I'm in. My friend asked me if I'd join her in one last hoorah, before I have to lock myself at home and eat oats and water for the next year of my life.*

To be honest, I've eaten out so much lately that I feel as though my taste buds are constantly unimpressed or perhaps desensitised to amazing food. Melbourne is so saturated by the cafe society that awesome food has simply become the norm. So for me to go somewhere and think, "yes yes yes", well, I feel like you all have to know about it.

Albert Park, you don't have much to offer; at least I didn't think so, until today. Nshry is situated right on the beach of Beaconsfield Parade. You've probably walked past it a few times already.

It has a wicked set up, like an ultra slick beach shack, I would live there. The staff were super chilled and the service was sweet. We weren't surrounded by your typical cafe society patrons; but rather an eclectic bunch of everyday Joes', mums, dads, babies, a date here and there, a tourist who clearly didn't know what they'd stumbled upon, and one young kid sucking down on a Corona.

I didn't have to look at the menu for long. Panko crumbed corn and zucchini fritters topped with smoked salmon, avocado, a poached egg and wasabi kewpi. Do it Do it Do it.

Corn Fritters, crunchy goodness; avocado, awesome; salmon; well, good salmon is hard to come by and I could have eaten this shit forever.

When I think about the time spent building said tower of fritters; the avocado a.k.a concrete holding the structure together and the few sprouts delicately placed on top of the little tears of wasabi mayonnaise, I wonder about the love that went down in that kitchen. Then there was my friend and I; a month's worth of Christmas and New Year hangover-ness and sunburnt-ness; and within two seconds, like angry seagulls swooping in, our forks had crashed through the food, destroying the tower quicker than 9/11... hmm, too far?

Anyway, coffee was ace of spades. Maybe because I'm trialling a life of no sugar my taste buds are more sensitive, but my long black reached new lengths as for the first time in a while I actually tasted some sweet chocolatey & acidic notes of goodness.

We sat, we ate, we chatted, we soaked up the sun. It was generally, just a rad day. As I looked at the rest of the menu and watched as other people's breakfasts were brought out, I thought of all my friends who would love the shit out of this place, and the hours we would waste savour at this new hidden gem. Get on it.

Date rate: They are starting dinners January 5th. Check check.

Coffee Cure: I would say this is the best drop in Albert Park by far. They've got all the fancy stuff too, Syneso machine, pour overs, cold drips, blah blah.

Hangover Happy: There were definitely some numbers on the menu that would have satisfied my drunken sister after New Years, and they have a liquor licence, so what's better than the hair of the dog?

Price: I paid like $25 for my breaki. It's up there, but well worth it.

Till we meet again, peace.

*Admittedly, I fucking love oats and water.

Food- Collective

3 Cookson Street, Camberwell

This will be brief, and quite fitting for the boys at The Collective.

A simple and laid back approach to the often hectic portrayal of starting a cafe', these guys have taken baby steps to create an impressive addition to the streets of Camberwell.

Since their humble beginnings at the ever amazing, cafe veteran and in my mind 'Yoda' that is Las Chicas, the boys have created a space that is very inviting and fun to hang out it in. There's not much to distract you, which means your time is dedicated solely to your coffee companion, be it person, newspaper or the like.

The menu at Collective is very simple, but with some pretty sweet offerings like bircher and 'pee-days' as the boys like to call them. There are also muffins and pastries for you to pick apart during your weekend rants with friends.

The guys are rocking a Syneso machine, adding cred to their already warm and likeable personalities. I'd heard that they were pretty serious about their coffee, so went straight for a 'magic'; the alleged speciality of our barista.

Forget HP, I've found a new awkward magician to fuss over.

I don't get out to this area often, out of sheer laziness and for the fear of what specimens I might run into whilst stumbling around the streets. Camberwellians are in a class of their own, but I have to admit, I have several friends who grew up here, to whom I can't live without, and seem to have escaped the contagious and infamous personality of others in the area.

Rest assured, when I do make it out, I'll be heading straight to the Collective.

Date rate: For dudes- if you're happy for your girl to be chatting up the boys behind the counter, why not?
Coffee cure: Magic happens.
Hangover Happy: It's not the first place I'd head to relive my hung over soul.
Price: No complaints from me

Oh and unfortunately, loss of phone due to loss of rational thinking in past drunken times, has resulted in loss of collective photo. Hence this pic has been *stolen* from a fellow caffeine addicts.

Food- Milkwood

120 Nicholson St.
 Brunswick East. 3057

Another day that Brunswick calls- how I wish the time between visits was so much smaller.

Milkwood has been the topic of conversation between my friends for a few months now, not just for its wicked name but also for the alleged culinary delights on offer. I had been eagerly anticipating the day my loved up housemate would invite me on a Brunswick adventure. Finally that day arrived.

Driving past numerous cafe's, (Pope Joan the next on the list) I realized that Brunswick really is where it’s at. Maybe one day, if I can ever tear myself away from sunny Elwood, I’ll relocate.

The lovely Milkwood is perched on a seemingly lonely corner, distancing itself from both competitors, and as it would appear; car parks. In our dazed and hungry state, we couldn’t be further away.

One thing you should already know about the café’ society- patience is a virtue. You’re not the only person in Melbourne craving sweets, and certainly not the only hung over soul needing a bit of TLC. But let me tell you another thing, good things come to those who wait. Very good things.

Personally, I believe that the difference between a good café and an amazing one is attention to detail. For instance, as discussed, you always have to wait, but at Milkwood, the waiter reassured us that we would quickly get a table, and took our coffee order anyway. Before we knew it we were seated, followed by the arrival of my strong flat white. (time-ing). Coffee supreme- always a win in my mind.

So what’s the go with the quaint and country-style space that is Milkwood?

I loved the awkwardly cute retro potholders that reminded me of my childhood days at nana's place. You know the kind- white crochet enveloping the pot, dangling from the ceiling? I still find it rather amusing that everything uncool is returning with such vengeance, before we know it doilies and quilts will be back in. Oh wait, that’s awkward.

Everything here is laid out clean and simple, the walls are adorned with minimal pieces including a bookshelf laiden with rhubarb, apricot and berry preserves. Forget breakfast, I was two minutes away from grabbing a spoon and chowing down.

Other points go to the cool lighting and retro ceiling fan.There is also a small and cute cabinet display of strawberry shortcake-sweet looking muffins, banana bread and brownies. In a few words- this place is effortlessly rad.

Down to the important things- food: Ricotta pancakes with banana, coconut, vanilla bean syrup and yoghurt.These were 'tell the world' amazing. Deliciously good in so many ways- the pancake itself had a slight crunch, there was no doughy texture, just awesome goodness. I was uber impressed.

The ritual of finishing off my friends plate gave privy to warm cannellini beans, lemon and rosemary mash and sliced avocado on toast. Wow- where do I begin. I can only try...

Remember Willy Wonka when Violet indulges in gum that tastes like a roast? Well, I got to feel like Violet for the day. This was the best roast I had ever had, spread on toast.

Date rate: Farmhouse frolic -a win.

Hangover Happy: mmm mmm beans.

Coffee cure: I’d give this a 8/10

Price: Only had to borrow a 20 from the bank of Mikey

Poor, poor me.

What happens when I have no funds?

People have to start taking me out for breakfast.

That's what happens.

Wink wink. nudge nudge.

Food- Harpers Kitchen

78 Inkerman Street St Kilda

I never thought I’d say this, but I think I’m less than impressed.

Recently, amongst friends, I’ve debated that there is a reason why we are always reading ‘amazing reviews’- being that we don’t want to hear anything bad.

Perhaps we don’t want to be accused of slander, or maybe we know the effects of a negative attitude on those around us… but could we possibly be scared of being honest?

Melbourne is a city that prides itself on its café culture, its city life and its musical offerings. So it makes sense that we might be slightly over protective and want to talk things up a bit.

My question is-are we so enamoured with our city and the culture that it has become famous for that if we actually produced something that wasn’t up to standard, well, we’d be slightly ashamed?

I had drove past Harper’s Kitchen on numerous occasions before I decided to venture inside. Let me tell you, this place is tiny-you’d drive straight past it on Inkerman Street if you didn’t have an eye for all things cute and quirky.

On a rainy day, this place yells inviting. There are bikes hanging on the exterior, promoting their cyclist friendly environment, and cute green awnings proclaiming the café’s name. Inside, some very attentive and friendly staff will greet you. Brownie points.

This place is little, very little, but they’ve done well with the space. You can probably fit about 20 odd people inside, with a long communal table surrounded by twos and threes- cosy but cute. There are also quirky additions like caged light fittings and wooden branch decorations hanging from the ceiling- an interesting spin on the industrialised vibe.

Whilst aesthetically pleasing, Harpers Kitchen is one that talks the talk, but unfortunately for me, didn’t walk the walk. It has all the makings for an amazing café, but seems to have drawn the short straw.

Don’t’ get me wrong; I’m not saying I could cook up something better-I struggle with reheating a pizza, but if these guys wanted to score some coverage across publications such as Broadsheet and Epicure, they really had to (and pardon the pun)’step up to the plate.’

Coffee supreme seated well amongst this quirky café. I was tempted by a few things on the menu but ended up deciding on poached eggs with a spiced avocado and ricotta stack on toasted pide’, with lemon, pink salt & sumac. This sounded amazing- my tastebuds were about as wet as Melbourne’s recent weekend downpour.

Unfortunately, what came out was something that I feel I could have made myself, and really, if you’re waking up early and making a trek, which in my case I wasn’t… (But if you were), you might be slightly disappointed.

In my books, Turkish bread is pretty much a no go. “You got to get the good stuff.” You know, Noisette or something of equal ‘fanciness’. Also, don’t put a slab of cold ricotta on my plate; I’m sorry, but that does not equal a stack.

I’d like to think of myself as open minded, but I couldn’t’ help but feel a little left behind by Harper’s kitchen. I’ll go back to see how they’re going- this girl is doing some great things for a first venture, and I’m sure that a lot has changed/been improved on since I was last there. Just get a good chef in and you’ll be winning.

Date rate: I like the venue for a date- it’s cute, cosy and random.

Coffee cure: Supreme served well

Hangover happy: Not enough fullness and goodness to please the weary soul

Price: Very good

One thing to note-

Quite often, and especially in this technologically driven world, we take the written word too seriously, and forget that everyone is entitled to generate, speak and consume their own opinion. Don’t take this is as the bible, but rather, a flippant attempt at preaching.

This post, and all my other ramblings, is my own opinion and no one else’s. Do what you will with it.

Passion

Amazing.

Coin Laundry Café

61 Armadale St
Armadale.

This review holds a special place in my heart, which beats ever so stronger thanks to the constant injection of caffeine on a daily basis.

Coin Laundry is now in its third week of business, and it seems only fitting that my post be late. I have barely had the time to think let alone write- my busy lifestyle matched only by the boys at this ultra cute corner café.

Steve Rowley and Matt Vero have dove head first into the sudsy waters of their second café venture, Coin Laundry, to receive an amazing response. Trust me, you’ll find yourself so in love that you’ll be dishing out more than a dollar or two here.

Maintaining the original name from the previous shop tenant, the boys have created a space which compliments the heritage listed exterior, moving away from the industrialised interior of most café’s. This spot has a country chic feel, a welcoming atmosphere and a bustling vibe. With exposed brick walls, a white and green coffee bar splashback and hand sanded wooden tables, Coin Laundry has a clean and contemporary feel. Origami flowers decorate the walls that join to high ceilings- the space has great acoustics and fabulous natural light, meaning no matter what time of day you’re in, it’s always bright inside.

Be prepared to wait for both a table and food, it appears that the Armadale mothers club has spread word about Coin Laundry already, with not only weekends, but early morning weekdays seeing queues out the door. Let’s note that this place is dog friendly, child friendly, and cyclist friendly- all round nice guys.

Head chef Eddie is dishing out food that is worth the wait, with an impressive menu to choose from. Go the Coin laundry breaki- Poached eggs on Noisette bread, with avocado, beetroot, crispy bacon, and roasted tomatoes. If you are only a little peckish, try the ricotta corn fritters, or poached fruit with Labneh and burnt honey caramel. This is a particular favourite, sweet, light and full of goodness.

Steve has chosen well with his coffee blend, New Zealand Allpress, roasted in Sydney. He along with baristas Jimmy and Dave can be found glued to the other side of the coffee bar, meticulously pouring out delicious and creamy coffees, one after the other.

I’m particular fond of this spot, not just because I can call the owners my friends, but also because I have had the pleasure of being on the other side of the breakfast table, as a waitress on weekends. I wouldn’t work just anywhere, just as wouldn’t tell you to eat just anywhere.

Apart from myself, the staff at Coin Laundry are all friends of Rowley and Vero, making this cafe one big family. The difference here is that these staff members want to be there, it’s not about the money or filling time, they have a genuine passion for coffee, food and their friends. And at the end of the day, isn’t that what going out for breakfast is all about?

Weekends are about relaxing; hanging out with friends and eating a little bit too much that you have to waddle out the door. There should be no effort, no stress and no chores.

In saying that, this might be the only time you’ll want anything to do with the laundry.

Date Rate: Super cute backdrop for a young love affair
Coffee cure: Steve has got it down to a T.
Hangover happy: Coin Laundry breaki is a win. If that fails, the boys have just got their liquor licence approved for lunch... Back it up :)
Price: Nothing the Armadaleons haven't seen before.