It’s not exactly hidden, just kind of unexpectedly perched on a backstreet corner. Tables protrude from the outside walls, lining the converted cottage façade, while the banks of milk-crate seating multiply when the sun is shining.
Relax at the long bench on the front balcony to watch the patient waiting dogs, or follow their owners inside to find a homey, light-filled space with contemporary touches, like modern stained glass and sculptural abstract suburban images on the walls. But it doesn’t neglect its roots – just a humble cottage conversion, reincarnated as a milk-bar, again reincarnated as a cafe.
Jazz and indie tunes float around communal tables, where students with laptops sip caramelly Atomica coffee, and Brunswick locals fan newspapers over brunch. Regulars openly lament when their daily Crumbs muffin isn’t available, before ordering fat pides or poached breakfasts, and settling in for tête-à-têtes at the smaller tables.
It’s got that relaxed and welcoming vibe that can only come from being in a suburban backstreet. And just like Bonnie Prince Billy sings: “… if I am gone and with no trace, I will be in a minor place”.