The contents of this blog are matters of opinion formed over one more visits. There has been some artistry applied and metaphors and similes should not necessarily be taken literally. All meals are independently paid for - the author has no conflicts of interest to disclose.
A colleague typed in ‘cafe within 10 minutes of work’ into ChatGPT at the end of our run of nights, and through this managed to take us somewhere we’d never been before.
For such a large and busy cafe local to us, it was a surprise that none of us had heard of it before. It was so busy that at 9AM when we arrived on a weekday morning, the warm inside seating was completely full, and we had to sit in the cold outside. There were no patio heaters, as some places have, which was good for the environment but terrible for us.
The large soy flat white ($6.30) did its job, which was to prevent me from experiencing vehicular related trauma on the way home. It tasted extremely homely, which made sense once I saw the bonsoy on the counter as we went to pay. Colleagues commented on the mugs with mismatched handles, which they thought were cute.
The food menu was distinctly Circa-like in nature. I had the spicy shakshuka ($27), though the chilli labneh eggs were also front and centre of my mind. The eggs had appropriately runny yolks, though the white was also a bit runny, which was less ideal. The bowl had a good tomato flavour, though a disappointment in terms of spiciness, which was so difficult to identify that I wouldn’t think it would be worth mentioning it in the name of the dish. The sourdough with zaatar was crusty, kind of hard, and with minimal zataaring. Reading the menu I had envisioned a kind of zaatar manoosh-sourdough hybrid, but this leant very closely to the bread side of things. At least I did not burn myself when I touched the cast iron pan, which is a real risk at Circa, and the chorizo was good, not too salty, as some have been in the past.
THOUGHTS It’s hard to rate any shakshuka in Western Sydney well when you’ve had Circa’s excellent rendition of it no less than 5 times in the past two years. This combination of baked eggs and a large soy flat white would cost $1.20 more at my favourite Parramatta cafe, but I wouldn’t be flatly opposed to coming back here if the gang calls for it.
Kooks Cafe is an Indonesian breakfast joint in the inner city that just so happens to be deeply David Bowie themed.
We started with a masala chai helix ($9.90), which is basically this roti based croissant like structure. It is quite large, covered in cinnamon and powdered sugar, and filled with a smattering of masala chai spices that are ultimately a bit sweet but not too sweet. Multi-layered, multi-sticky, and quite delicious.
We enjoyed also the beef rendang wrap ($21.45) which was a bit expensive for its size. It was composed of quite a crispy kind of pastry with a nice filling of beef rendang, inclusive of flavour and beefy chew. Despite this strong showing, factors against its favour however included a quite wet and drippy bottom (a bit of leakage), and its overall price to size ratio.
The most breakfasty item we got was the roti telur ($13.20), which we didn’t love. The best way that I could describe it to someone who couldn’t see images would be if you could imagine a gozleme like structure filled with egg, a slight amount of extremely mild chilli and some onion, and an overall lack of flavour.
The pastry was quite soft and unexciting, kind of felt like what you would get if you steamed a pancake, though my partner won’t say that she regret getting it as she really wanted to try some of Kook’s sambal, and this was her window to it. To me, it really kind of felt like something you could make in the microwave or in the steamer at home, and I wouldn’t get it again.
We were the only Asians at a packed Hearthe on a Sunday morning not long ago, not counting the two in the kitchen, and thus the only people to have their very good congee, though more on that later.
The first item that arrived was the salt bush scone with dessert lime marmalade and cream ($14). The scone itself was savoury, with a light, chive like flavour do them that suberverted expectations of a wholely sweet-spectrum dish.
The cream, whipped well, is always a welcome addition to any scone dish, whilst the “dessert lime marmalade”, which I can only assume is a play on words based on the “desert lime” its made of, was a less sweet, more bitter concoction. My wife enjoyed this dish more than me.
The ham and cheese scroll ($9) was up next. Though plucked from the display cabinet, it was served warmed up, semi-gooeyfying the relatively large high density of cheese within this pastry.
The layers of the scroll were very buttery and dense, contributing to an overall sense of luxury to this scroll, though again, similar to the marmalade, there was an overall hint of bitterness to it.
The rice congee with paperbark smoked barramundi, with karkalla, samphire and finger lime with a toasted croissant crouton ($19) was completely different to everything else on offer at Hearthe. The croissant “crouton” functioned much like a youtiao, though tasted a bit burnt and was on a whole less good than the traditional alternative. The native greens (karkalla and samphire) weren’t that tasty, and the finger lime was not able to be found or tasted.
Looking past the croissant and native greens, the dish as a whole was an extremely traditional rendition of a Chinese congee. The flavour was umami and warming, and just as a classic congee, not overly rich. The flakes of barramundi within the bowl were perfectly proportioned, and permeated through each spoonful. It did a really good job as a congee, much better than many Chinese restaurants we’ve been to, and despite the superficial attempt of being fusion, was deeply traditional in its overall execution, tasting more of shallot and fish than it did of native things. It’s a shame we didn’t see any of the other (non-Asian) patrons ordering it.
The unforgettable cake ($10 for a small slice), was actually much more forgettable than Hearthe proprietor Christopher Thé’s original claim to fame, Black Star’s strawberry watermelon cake. Though it was built in a sandwich like construction featuring jelly and cream between multiple layers of sponge, I didn’t feel that this really made up for the relatively uninteresting and subdued flavour, and it ultimately ended up seeming like too much structural effort for little flavour pay-off. At least it wasn’t too sweet.
The paperbark cake ($10) had a nice, floral and peppery top layer, with a honey-drenched mimille feuille centre and a rich, chocolatey, dense mousse-like base. This was probably the most “native Australian” tasting item on the menu, though overall too sweet for my liking.
UPDATE – We found our way across the bridge to a community cultural event, where Christopher The was doing some live baking with his kids whilst one of his other kids played music.
We were served these very unassuming tarts with kiwi and mango pearls on arrival.
The music was intermitted by these fresh-out-of-the-oven blueberry cupcakes, which had a taste of self-raised flour. I reiterate add at this point that the whole thing was one professional baker and his kids, who are definitely not professional bakers and just there to do their best to help out.
The cherry strudel with fresh and sour cherries, anise myrtle, and a coffee and wattle seed ice cream turned out to be quite good, despite Christopher leaving his dry flour at home. We enjoyed the tartness of the sour cherries, and that it was overall not too sweet.
A surprise showing of a work-in-progress next generation strawberry-watermelon cake. I think it would be better with less sweetness.
OVERALL Despite criticisms, I enjoyed my meal at Hearthe, and the little Australian twists present in most dishes. It almost felt like what BUSH should’ve been, and it just happens to have some of the best fish congee around.
If you’re really into classical guitar and live North of the bridge, the live-baking thing could be a thing too.
Walking to Havenstone from our place of work involves walking through the grounds of Cumberland Hospital, a heritage-listed sandstone building complex with a lovely set of grounds. Seeing people have their coffees in the courtyards as we attempted to stay awake following a 13-hour night shift really hammered home the concept of the road not taken, as I’m constantly reminded of the fact that I almost became a psychiatrist were it not for the influence of one particular senior early on in my working career. Thanks HWJ.
The Middle Eastern breakfast platter ($29) served inexplicably on a piece of wood rather than a more antibacterial medium such as a ceramic plate features plain pita bread, two fried eggs, a choice of Lebanese sausages or falafel (predictably I chose the Lebanese sausages) some labneh and hummus and a collection of multicoloured vegetables including pickled peppers, olives, very crispy radishes, cucumber and some cherry tomatoes. The plate was overall not bad, featuring a combination of ingredients and colours that made it feel like I was doing the right thing for my body and eating my traffic lights. Despite this however I just didn’t feel it was particularly special, especially compared to a local analogue which is the Phoenician Kafta Bowl at Little Miss Collins in Pamada which provides za’atar rather than just plain pita bread. I honestly wouldn’t even be offended if instead of plain pita they provided za’atar from a well-regarded local manoosh shop like Mina’s Bakery in Westmead. It would just add a little something extra to what is otherwise a somewhat unexciting mixed plate.
The Havenstack ($27) is a physically compact but surprisingly dense arrangement of a hash brown, wilted spinach, grilled portobello mushroom, smashed avocado, bacon topped with a poached egg, Lebanese sausage, halloumi and a layer of Hollandaise sauce. I really didn’t think that such a small footprint of food could make one full, but I was surprisingly wrong. The combination and variety of ingredients led to a pretty good meal, actually, and I guess the form factor did help each of the ingredients to maintain warmth, minimising radiative heat loss rather than it being spread out on a plate.
I like to eat food first and foremost, and I’ve always thought that an all-day menu is a key component of success to the operation of a good cafe. There’s only so many different ways you can do avocadoes on toast or an eggs benedict, and I’ve spent far too many breakfasts being sad about not being able to order from the lunch menu. Luckily, Cafe Baby Finger’s all-day menu gives visitors the option of both breakfast food and – let’s be honest – real food, all day long.
Much of Baby Finger’s all-day menu is quite potato forward, and the two dishes that we picked were no exception. The salmon potato cake ($26) was a umami combination of potato and cured (though it seemed cooked, or at least hot cured?) salmon, nicely seasoned with dill, topped with caramelised onion and watercress, and served with two poached eggs.
Though not much to look at, the starchy potato texture, light but umami flavours, and luxurious aoili made for quite a yummy dish.
The other dish we had was the ‘nduja smoky beans ($25) from their specials board, basically a potato hash with speck, ‘nduja, caramelised onion, a single excellently poached egg, all in a beany tomatoey sauce, topped with manchego and served with two pieces of focaccia. I enjoyed all the different textures and flavours that were present in this dish, even the unexpected pops of saltiness in some bites and the sweetness of the tomato base that came out in others.
The speck was portioned generously and cut to quite large pieces to provide a quite meaty chew, balancing out the otherwise meatless meal (the ‘nduja being mixed into the sauce and difficult to macroscopically identify).
The size of the dish was quite large (the photos don’t do it justice) , which meant that I found that two pieces of focaccia were insufficient to eat all of the saucy goodness with. A third piece would’ve been great.
Overall we enjoyed both things we had here, and can recommend it to a friend or colleague. The food kind of reminded me of Circa’s greatest hits. More like this!
Baby Finger Unit 27/12 Layton St, Camperdown NSW 2050
