Perched in a pocket of Thornbury with a burgeoning food reputation – watch out Northcote – is Jerry Joy, a spanking new eatery living in the bones of a revived Kitschen Pantry. Everyone is welcome at Jerry Joy from mums and bubs with playgroups – there’s an Astroturf patch with toys outside – to couples with canines and gastronomy-seeking locals.
Jerry Joy has all the makings of a stellar suburban haunt. Walls are crisp white and bare; communal and standalone tables are dotted along windows; the counter is laden with a sweet spread of homemade cakes and slices, flanked by the tiny kitchen that speedily turns out highly coveted fare.
‘That one,’ declared Mother, decidedly pointing her finger on her chosen menu item, ‘That has my name all over it.’ Mother had opted for a dish that offered everything she craved in a brag-all-about-it breakfast: a highly photogenic plate of beetroot and red lentil fritters, roasted capsicum hummus, a poached-to-bursting egg and a scattering of greenery. The spiced fritters were divine. They boasted an ear-pleasing crunch when speared with a fork and surprised Mother by keeping their crunch even after a roll around in the braising liquids. Each mouthful of fritter was dunked through the coral-hued hummus, which was smooth and complimented the delicately spiced lentil and beetroot morsels. The braised vegetables were underwhelming: the fennel had lost its distinctive crisp aniseed punch and the once emerald green kale had become murky and lacklustre. Topping off the breakfast was a sprinkling of micro herbs and edible flowers, including – much to Mother’s delight – a fuschia, which was promptly popped just as Mother had done when she was little.
Even if I hadn’t been required to take a picture of my breakfast for Mother Says I still would have, quickly plastering it all over Instagram complete with #nofilter. Why? It was just that pretty. A petite stack of perfectly round pikelets stood guard over a puddle of dark, sticky blueberry jam and dainty clouds of yoghurt foam; tiny nuggets of golden crumble were sprinkled about the plate. As I cut into the pikelets I was surprised to find a texture markedly different to the pancake-like crumb I’ve had before. The pikelets were spongey rather than fluffy and looked dry – a potential side effect of using almonds rather than gluten-packed flour. How did I combat the dryness? I piled a hefty helping of jam, foam and chunks of spiced apple onto each hunk of pikelet. Hello pikelet perfection! The deep purple jam was thick and tart; the yoghurt foam offered a subtle sour hit that broke up the richness of the jam and crunchy crumble. The pikelets eagerly absorbed the tastiness of their more moist neighbours so that every bite was bursting with lush, moreish flavours. If licking a plate were appropriate behaviour for a public outing, this would have been the place.
Coffee at Jerry Joy is brewed using beans sourced from Axil roasters. I was initially unsure of my café latte and found an unusual cloying taste; a few more tentative sips and I decided it was a lack of flavour that was to blame. Mother’s long black wasn’t to her taste; weak and watery, with small pieces of unidentified sediment floating instead of a caramel tinted crema.
Straight from the Mother Having been to both of its predecessors, I was crossing my fingers that Jerry Joy would be just as good. It was better. Relaxed and welcoming with smiling staff and a tempting menu, Jerry Joy exceeded all my expectations. It was refreshing to see a menu with completely original and innovative options; on my next visit I’ll be sampling the sardine ceviche.
Jerry Joy
128 Mansfield Street, Thornbury
(03) 9484 0503
Mother Says 