Milkwood

Behind its unassuming shopfront and white-trimmed front door, Milkwood is a compact-come-cosy space where loyal locals seek nourishment from a menu sporting everything from hotcakes and house-made lamingtons to sautéed mushrooms and lunch baguettes stuffed with punchy flavour combinations.

With a Brunswick postcode, it wasn’t unexpected that Milkwood’s staff had a laid-back, nonchalant vibe as they scurried about delivering lattes and clearing tables. What we hadn’t anticipated however, was staff who offered no greetings, no smile and no acknowledgement of their new customers for ten minutes. Not a particularly warm first impression. The twiddling of our thumbs had one small upside: taking in Milkwood’s farmstead fit out. Think a soaring pitched barn-roof, white washed brick walls, splashes of green detailing and shelves laden with baked goods and preserves made on-site.

Having read titterings of Milkwood’s broad bean smash – with pea, mint and poached eggs – any breakfast brooding was cut short. Slathered over two slices of garlicky, toasted-to-perfection sourdough was a thick blanket of crushed peas and mashed-to-a-pulp broad beans. The smash was smooth, creamy and studded with pea halves; though not the most attractive colour – perhaps from the use of canned peas rather than frozen or fresh – the dullish green contrasted nicely with the crisp white eggs. I would have liked a hint of mint in the smash, rather than just as garnish, to add a zingy burst. My googs were also overcooked with only a dribble of yolk spilling onto the pea-y paste when popped; a stream of rich, oozy yolk would have melted into the smash, adding a gooey, sauce-like boost to the topping and given the dish a oomph that it took it from nice to cracking.

Mother’s breakfast was plucked from the same kettle of fish as Daughter’s: warm cannellini bean and rosemary mash, topped with slices of soft green avocado and sprigs of parsley. A liberal smear of the chunky spread lay languidly over two slices of sourdough with dark flecks of rosemary speckled through the bashed beans. The strong, pungent herb dominated the dish, overpowering the cannellinis and swamping the palate. No other element on the dish – the lemon oil, avocado, parsley – could compete with the rosemary; Mother commented that such herby heavy-handedness would best suit a roast dinner, not a breakfast. A wedge of lemon, a handful of leafy rocket or something that could have stood up against the rosemary would have made the breakfast less of a one-flavoured affair.

Straight from the Mother Before I’d even had my first bite, Milkwood had put a bad taste in my mouth – and it had nothing to do with the food. Perhaps the staff had forgotten their glasses the morning we visited; how else can you explain three servers ignoring two customers, sitting smack-bang in the middle of the small, and definitely not full, café, for ten minutes? I wasn’t particularly taken with anything from Milkwood’s menu and although my final choice wasn’t dreadful, it was underwhelming. Any future inklings of returning to Milkwood will be swiftly squashed – I still have the chills from the icy reception our last sojourn received.

Milkwood
120 Nicholson Street, Brunswick East
(03) 9380 4062

Top Paddock

From the powerhouse hands behind Liar Liar, Three Bags Full and Two Birds One Stone, it’s little surprise that Church Street-toting Top Paddock dazzles. With one of the swankiest fit outs going around, Top Paddock is all floor-to-ceiling windows, white tiling and recycled materials; a sprawling central coffee bar houses two Synesso machines and a flurry of buzzing baristas. Flanking the white-topped behemoth are stools for those who prefer to be within arms-length of their single origin ristretto; further afield there are communal tables for large lunches, booths and tucked-away nooks perfect for dining à deux.

Our cosy corner alcove was the prime position for people-watching – much to the delight of the Mother – and peering at passing waiters balancing plates laden with mango-and-coconut bread, chili scrambled eggs and fare from the daily specials menu that echoes head chef Jesse McTavish’s farm-to-table ethos.

Succumbing to her softness for smoked salmon, Mother swiftly settled on one of the specials; a mouth-watering medley crafted from delicately pink slices of fish, punchy goats cheese, shaved fennel, soy and linseed toast, and a poached egg. It wasn’t any of these cracking components that caught mum’s eye; rather her attention was stolen by the itty-bitty baby zucchini scattered around the plate, ‘Look at them!’ she said excitedly, picking one up and waving it in front of my face, ‘It’s like they’re for a Borrower!’ Each forkful packed a delicious blend of splodge of salty, sharp cheese, sweet and smokey salmon and a crunch of those much-covet courgettes. ‘It just works,’ Mother explained between mouthfuls, ‘And it works spectacularly well.’

Just as mother was in raptures with her greenery, I was taking my first bites of what would kickstart a serious infatuation with another vegetable – broccolini. The thin, asparagus-like stalks had a pleasurable crunch and the tender tufts of florets became the ultimate vessel to mop up the runny yolks from the poached-to-bursting eggs. A handful of sugar snaps added bursts of sweet freshness; a dome of perfectly rounded avocado was delicate, creamy and was a beautiful topping for crisp-edged slices of sourdough; roughly cut halves of toasted almonds were rich, earthy and made for one amazing mouthful after another. My only negative? It disappeared far too quickly.

With our plates cleared and coffee orders taken, I was expecting a wait for our caffeine hit – and with good reason; close to midday, Top Paddock was already boasting a waitlist of blazer-glad and umbrella-bearing professionals. Brewed from Five Sense beans, coffee at Top Paddock is crafted to match the food; there’s also an in-house roaster. My café latte was strong and smooth, thankfully without any bitter aftertaste; a caramel-hued rosetta took pride of place in velvety steamed milk. Mum’s long black arrived complete with glass of mineral water, golden crema and bold, robust flavours.

Straight from the Mother Whenever I order a dish with smoked salmon, I’ve come to expect only a few measly thin slices so imagine my Cheshire grin when my Top Paddock breakfast arrived with lashings of melt-in-the-mouth salmon. I was even more surprised with the speedy service: it took longer to make a decision and flag down a waiter than it did for our meals to arrive – an impressive feat given the constant stream of new arrivals and rate of table turnovers. A tip for fellow foodies of my vintage; it might be wise to arrange for an early-week visit to avoid queues – a game of road-trip favourite I Spy might be the trick for weekend waits.

Top Paddock
658 Church Street, Richmond
(03) 9429 4332

Mixed Business

Sitting on a far-flung patch of Queens Parade, Mixed Business is not the easiest eatery to find – at least not for this navigationally-challenged mother and daughter (we drove past, twice). With it’s unique picket fence barriers, paved courtyard complete with lemon tree and cracking fare, Mixed Business offered us both an escape from the drizzle and a breakfast worthy of some serious boasting.

Open and airy, Mixed Business is kitted out in typical Fitzroy fashion; embracing a warehouse ramshackle aesthetic with communal tables flanked by church pews, whitewashed walls, pretty posies of bright blooms and a grand wooden work bench doubling as a coffee counter. Be warned: the chipped enamel placards promising ‘chips and gravy’ are purely decorative; look to the blackboards for specials. An impressive menu sees spice-studded porridge sit alongside apple pie waffles and coddled eggs; there are also poached eggs on Dench’s sourdough accompanied by a suite of pre-selected sides – smoked salmon, pickled beetroot, dill and crème fraiche ($17); pan-fried slow roasted pork belly, sweet and sour cabbage, and house mustard ($17.50).

It was from this list that I plucked my choice – poached eggs with potato and rosemary rosti, avocado and house relish ($16.5). A swift arrival cut short the hungry grumbling of my stomach and gave way to a watering mouth. Happily, I noted that Mixed Business shuns an emerging breakfast fad of only serving one slice of toast with their eggs – carbohydrates are important, don’t you know – and this made my plate seem – if possible – even more attractive. A pillow-like wedge of rosti was fluffy and peppered with hits of fragrant rosemary, and became the perfect vessel for sopping up pools of egg yolk. A lashing of avocado replaced butter and the homemade relish was a tart contrast to the richness of the rosti and eggs.

Looking down at her plate – roast mushrooms, goats cheese, hazelnuts, greens ($14.5) – mum explained, ‘This is my type of breakfast.’ Plump and juicy – just as they should be – the field mushrooms topped creamy chunks of fromage de chèvre and thick slices of multigrain toast. With a reputation for packing a potent punch, too much goats cheese can dominate a dish; too little and it’s a waste.  A scattering of crushed hazelnuts provided a sweet, waxy crunch; the overstuffed handful of radicchio was slightly bitter, working well against the earthy fungi and bold cheese. There was nary a crumb left when mum had finished.

Straight from the Mother I’m looking forward to making Mixed Business a regular on my café rotation – now that I know where it is! Incredible breakfast, friendly staff and a homey atmosphere – it’s a winner. I have a sneaky suspicion it would be eardrum-bursting noisy on weekends – polished concrete floors and scraping chairs aren’t a good mix – so I would make a point of returning midweek. The blink-and-you’ll-miss-it florist next door is lovely, selling gorgeous bunches, seeds in paper pouches and petite glass bottles-come-vases.

 

Mixed Business
486 Queens Parade, Clifton Hill
(03) 9486 3068

Penny Farthing Espresso

Nestled in Northcote’s hipster hub, Penny Farthing Espresso is precisely what you’ve come to expect from this primo High Street location; imaginative and scrummy fare, an impressive coffee menu and a smattering of dedicated regulars. There’s also a pretty courtyard outside, perfect for a lazy afternoon of sipping a smooth single origin in the sun.

For anyone wondering how (if at all) it’s possible to make brioche even better, wallow it in egg wash and panfry in enough butter to make Nigella proud. Before nutrition-nuts faint from cholesterol-induced giddiness, rest assured that I typically avoid all that is sugary and buttery and fried so early in the morning. However, after a night of too many tipples (sorry mum!), it seemed my sound dietary sense had stayed in bed. Luckily for my taste buds, it was a winning decision; the two-tier pile of thick, rich slices of pan-toasted brioche was topped with lashings of maple syrup, poached pear segments and a dollop of peanut butter mascarpone ($17). Any previous claims of, ‘Whoa, I can’t eat all of this,’ soon became cries of, ‘Oooh, I could go another slice!’ as I devoured everything on my black plate. The peanut-studded mascarpone proved any flavour-combination apprehension wrong; it was a creamy, slightly salty dressing that amped up this already indulgent French toast. Delicate stomachs, you’ve been warned; this one is definitely more suited to seasoned gluttons.

Momentarily wrapped up in my fried find, I was bought back down to Northcote by mum muttering that her ‘crispy corn fritters’ ($18) weren’t so crispy after all. Paired with an almond capsicum relish, wood smoked bacon, a poached egg and mayonnaise, the fritters worked well with all the other flavours; the bacon was especially delish, but as mum pointed out, ‘How can bacon ever taste bad?’. It’s with the fritters where this brekky fell short; rather than cracking a fork through a crunchy outside, the fritter was on the soggy and doughy side, rather than the fluffy pillow mum had expected.

Across the table, our friend was having a conflict of interest with her breakfast ($18). Where should she start first? The gluten free sweet potato rostis? Or with the smoked salmon, dukkah-coated avocado, poached egg, candied walnuts or the beetroot salad? On their own and with one or two others, these ingredients are winners. In one (rather large) mouthful however, it was simply too much – especially with the ladle-sized dollop of mayonnaise hidden beneath the paper-thin rostis.

Unlike my brioche breakfast, unfortunately the staff at Penny Farthing lacked a healthy dose of the warm and fuzzies. Looking unhappy and uninterested, we didn’t see a smile upon arrival, at paying or as we left. Perhaps they were all feeling under the weather too?

Straight from the Mother Confession time: before arriving at Penny Farthing, I’d cheated and had a sneaky peek at the brekky offerings online, and was excited to try my choice.  Even though my tastebuds were disappointed, I left with a full tummy. I’ve always had an irk with staff who look bored and give the impression they’re ‘working’ under sufferance. A smile goes a long way.  Penny Farthing doesn’t top my list of must-return-pronto cafés, but I’d visit again further down the track.

Penny Farthing Espresso
266 High Street, Northcote
(03) 9482 2246

Red Door Corner Store

There are no prizes for guessing where Red Door Corner Store gets its name. Tucked away in the residential strips between Victoria and High streets, Red Door is housed in the old bones of a neighbourhood corner store. Behind the candy-red door, this laid-back eatery has walls dressed with kitchen bric-a-brac, shelves laden with housemade preserves and a pretty AstroTurf back garden.

As is the style du jour, menus are printed on mini clipboards and boast fresh, innovative fare using locally sourced ingredients; think Villa Verde eggs and milk from Saint David Dairy. My cold-pressed OJ arrived in a recycled glass jar, complete with red and white spiral straw. Cold-pressed juices are the new darling of the health-pack; supposed to contain more minerals and enzymes and vitamins than their traditional-pressed counterparts. Could I taste the extra nutrients? No. But that didn’t stop me from guzzling it down (and enjoying it).

Our meals arrived quickly, both on wooden serving boards (another nod to the rustic presentation trend). Sharing the board with my two housemade crumpets were petite pots of homemade preserves and rooftop honey; one pale pat of salt-studded Myrtleford butter sat on the end of a wooden spoon. Pillow-like, piping hot and slathered with molten pools of butter, the crumpets were the perfect vessels for the fruity honey and sweet-and-tarty jam. They were scrummy and disappeared far too quickly. I would have loved just one more; it seemed like a waste of both the toppings and at $9.50, there would have been for bang for your buck (or crumpet for your cash).

Next to me, mum leans over and says, ‘I think they’ve given me falafels instead of eggs’. Perched atop a bed of shredded red cabbage, pea sprouts, mint, crushed avocado and a smattering of crumbled feta, two dukkah-crusted poached eggs were the crowning glory of this breakfast. Rather than a simple dusting over the dish, Red Door had the good sense to coat the eggs in the spice-and-nut mix, before quickly frying them off. Result? A deliciously crisp, tastebud-tingling outside and a velvety smooth yolk inside.

After such a culinary high, an amazing coffee would have been the ideal ending. Sadly, both of our coffees (a skinny café latte for me and long black for mum) left an unpleasant taste in our mouths. Whether it was the Proud Mary roasted beans, the particular blend or the milk, my latte had a cloying milky flavour and no robust coffee punch – a few tentative sips was enough. Mum described hers as ‘borderline undrinkable’. On mentioning this to our waitress – who seemed genuinely shocked and immediately apologised – she promised that next time we visit, their barista would be happy to accommodate our tastes. *

Straight from the Mother
This brekky is up there with one of the best breakfasts ever, I’ve been singing  the praises of Red Door Corner Store to all who will listen!! I returned the other day with friends who stated, ‘I think we’ve found our new spot’. I tried my luck with another coffee and this time it was lovely, smooth and bold – JUST how I like it.  I hope you enjoy it as much as we did!*

Red Door Corner Store
70 Mitchell Street, Northcote
(03) 9489 8040