Praise be

April 9, 2004

Not quite a religious experience, but the big breakfast is just heavenly, writes Kendall Hill.

Circle Cafe, 344 Darling Street, Balmain, Weekdays 7am-5pm, Saturday 8am-4pm.

United by their faith in the glory of brunch, it’s an ecumenical crowd that attends the weekend service at Circle Cafe.

Food service, that is, not the worship service delivered by the Reverend Ruth Thomas each Sunday morning at 9.30. In a quirk of co-existence, one of Balmain’s most popular cafes is also the suburb’s Uniting Church – though it’s a very relaxed relationship.

Diners can tuck into Circle’s signature dish of pissaladiere (like a pizza) confident there’ll be no proselytising on the side.

Circle Cafe is a rambling restaurant in four parts. It consists of a rear courtyard, the wood-floored cafe proper with its movie posters, community noticeboard and overworked espresso machine, an attractive, shady balcony and garden terrace scented by frangipani, and the sun-drenched tables on Darling Street.

There’s a street table free when we arrive but we decide against it because (a) it’s too hot and (b) we prefer not to be exhaust-ed by passing traffic while eating.

The terrace is full but there’s a table that looks just right at the end of the balcony. We nab it with such enthusiasm that I don’t look before I sit and plonk my bottom on a used ashtray. Nice.

It’s 11.30 and everyone’s here – grandmas with granddaughters, yuppie couples, courting couples, old friends, new friends, mums and dads of all ages, and large families out in the brick-walled and child-friendly courtyard.

The noise levels are kept suitably brunch-like so fellow diners can read papers in peace. Piped music is of the popular folk variety, harmonica riffs and all.

Laminated menus live permanently on the tables. The breakfast menu, available all day by popular demand, takes up one side; lunch the other. The breakfast dishes are “in” rather than inspired. They include eggs florentine, scrambled eggs with smoked salmon and chives, homemade toasted muesli and a seasonal fruit salad with “live” yoghurt. The menu wording’s a bit tricky like that; ricotta hotcakes are served with “raw” honey. As opposed to what? Flambeed?

Semantics aside, we settle on the rather Gallic combo of ham and cheese croissant and citron presse for me, and a big breakfast, a fruit salad and a vanilla milkshake for my friend, Mr Piggy.

I pop inside to order and pay at the counter, as instructed by my menu. The procedure is painless enough and provides a good excuse for outside diners to come in and scan the arts listings, grab themselves a jug of water, or rifle through the communal newspapers and magazines (not a Christian title in sight, incidentally).

The big breakfast is aptly named. A large oval plate arrives piled with bacon, sausage, hash brown, roasted tomatoes and mushrooms, toast, and two poached eggs. It is, Mr Piggy decrees, “one of the best breakfasts I’ve had in a long time”. Superior even to the famous bills cafe, he reckons, because you have a choice of how your eggs are cooked. He also reckons the tomatoes at Circle are better than bills but, really, what’s one roasted tomato from another?

The fruit salad also deserves a “big” in its name – it almost dwarfs the fry-up. It scores immediately for its lack of orange chunks, the refuge of the poor or unimaginative when compiling a fruit salad. This one, by contrast, contains passionfruit, peach, nectarine, strawberry, kiwi, grape, blueberry, pineapple, apple and banana, tumbled together in a large white bowl and looking terrific. It is fresh and tangy and good for you.

The croissant comes butterflied and layered with ham, sliced tomato and a splatter of gruyere melted on top. It is simple, but that’s as expected. A full day’s lazing on the beach beckons so there’s no need for anything fancy.

The drinks are a little disappointing, mainly because I ignored the menu description of citron presse as lemon juice and chilled water, and conjured instead exotic images of a lemony, granita-style drink. But it is, as promised, lemon juice and chilled water and it takes four shakes of the sugar dispenser before I can drink it.

By contrast, the vanilla milkshake is sickly sweet. We might have been better off with a fresh fruit frappe, a Monin French cordial, or an affogato, but the coffees make amends. They are good. And the mini-lemon cheesecake we have with them is gooey and superb.

It’s very pleasant here, eating beneath shady trees and red paper lanterns, amid an eclectic mix of people and furniture (seating ranges from wooden benches and chairs to high stools at the communal balcony bench).

There’s a good vibe to the place and it is as unpretentious as you’d expect of a community-based cafe run from a church building. Bless them for keeping it so real.

Out of 10

Food 7

Solid, but hardly inspired breakfast/brunch fare.

Service 6

Fast and friendly enough, but sloppy under pressure.

Atmosphere 8

Everyone feels at home.

Value 7

Not bad for the money; $14.50 for the Big Brekky.