It can be hard to pinpoint what makes a café great. That didn’t happen at Proud Mary. It was actually quite easy. Wheel-me-out breakfasts? Tick. Coffee served with passion not pretention? Yes. Waiters who boast the look of hipsters but none of the attitude? Check. And if that isn’t enough for discerning diners, parking isn’t diabolical either.
We aren’t the only ones to be impressed with Proud Mary’s kit and caboodle and at ten o’clock on a Monday it was already chokkers. Hipsters sat alongside tailored suit-wearing professionals; mums wrangled ankle-biters; locals stood, eyeing off the treat-laden cabinet, waiting for their takeaway macchiato. In a stroke of well thought-out preparation our breakfast guest had arrived early and was already sipping her soy latte at our window-side table when we arrived.
Proud Mary’s ricotta hotcakes fall soundly into the smile-smugly-at-the-rest-of-your-table pile. The stack of three hotcakes were flanked by a golden moat of mandarin caramel, segments of dried mandarin, chunky nuggets of porous honeycomb and a dome of vanilla ice cream. The hotcakes were brilliant – fluffy, soft, divine – and could easily be eaten as they were. They were taken to another level as they soaked up the delicate flavours of the gooey fruit-laced caramel, which, to my surprise, wasn’t overwhelmingly sweet. A handful of dehydrated, withered wedges of mandarin were sensational, dissolving on the tongue and leaving behind zingy bursts of citrus – like amped up Fruit Tingles. Hits of sugar came from the hunks of honeycomb, which could be nibbled on whole or – as I did – fervently crushed and sprinkled over the hotcakes.
It was after some consultation with our marvelously moustached waiter that Mother was coaxed into opting for Proud Mary’s potato hash. If only he had warned Mother about the serving size: mammoth. A brick of grated and shallow fried potato served as the base for charred kale, double smoked bacon and a poached egg; the hash swam in a pool of bagna cauda – a traditional dipping sauce of anchovy, cream and garlic. Mother’s first taste of her breakfast was the bagna cauda and it was an interesting introduction, swamping her palate and overpowering the other components. At any other time of day the sauce could have been pleasant; at ten-thirty in the morning it was a tad too early for Mother’s tastes. The hash itself was the perfect blend of soft and crunchy; the bacon was juicy and salty; the kale added a pleasant smokiness to the plate. A beautifully poached egg spilled yellow yolk into the bagna cauda.
They take coffee seriously at Proud Mary and have the coffee toys to prove it; the monster, custom designed six-group Synesso espresso machine is famous among the coffee coterie. There’s a lengthy list of single origin and blends available, which our waiter was happy to run through so Mother could select one for her long black. Unfortunately, she seemed to make the wrong choice and wasn’t blown away by her coffee. She was taken with the brilliant blue of their cups and saucers however. My café latte was fantastic: rich and creamy with wonderfully steamed milk poured into a simple rosette.
Straight from the Mother Proud Mary has a lot going on: a constant stream of people ambling through the door of this renovated warehouse; waiters bustling behind the counter and emerging from the kitchen to deliver attractive looking plates to eager diners. I was surprised to find nothing jumped out at me from the menu; nothing made me go,’Oh yes, that’s me!’ And sadly my eventual choice, although it came with reassurances from our lovely waiter, did nothing to dispel my disappointment in the menu. The bagna cauda looked as though it was seeping out from the hash rather than attractively drizzled over and the anchovies were just too strong for me. Service was excellent however and I loved the buzzing atmosphere.
Proud Mary
172 Oxford Street, Collingwood
(03) 9417 5930
Mother Says 