Good food, better company.
A laneway café in Melbourne.
Journal · Mornings
The doors open at seven on weekdays.
This is the hour before, when the grinder is dialled in and the first loaves come out of the oven, and the first hour after, when the regulars arrive with the paper.
The first job is the grinder. A few test shots are pulled, tasted and adjusted until the coffee runs sweet, then the milk goes into the fridge under the bench and the jugs are lined up by size.
By the time the lights go on in the laneway, the room smells of toast and coffee.
Most mornings it is flat whites, then long blacks, then a run of lattes once school drop off is done. The batch brew changes each week and sits in a flask on the bar for anyone in a hurry.
Tea comes in a pot with a small timer, because a breakfast blend left too long helps nobody.
The best seat in the house is the small table by the window, where the morning light comes in low across the room. It is first come, first served, and it rarely stays empty for long.
If it is taken, the courtyard out the back is quieter than you would think.
Some mornings the best part is the second cup: the paper half read, the light across the table and nowhere you need to be.
See you at the bar.
the Local Table crew
Short pieces from the café, from the first hour at the bar to the long lunch in May.
Most cafés fit in as many small tables as they can. This one is built around a single long one, made from…
