Coffee Alchemy - breaking news

My local boutique coffee roaster and coffee shop went up several notches in my estimation this week.

 First, they have kept the great minimalist look and feel of the shop interior, which is tiny in fact, and somehow managed to get comfortable - repeat, yet minimalist - seating for seven. And there's a very nice mat laying on the floor. They're only small changes, but the miracle that is good interior design strikes again.

The other giant leap forward is they now do boutique espressos of three (on any given day) of their single estate blends; I had a big argument with them about eight months ago over this, when they didn't do it - crazy - you can't be serious about beans and simultaneously force all your customers to drink one blend, I don't care how good the blend is, so (don't know when this new policy started, but it's a major breakthrough) this now leapfrogs into top place by a country mile.

If they provide free chilled filtered water (I'll suggest it to them) it will be the perfect coffee shop, and it will still be only 200 metres from the front door!

Still, 9/10 isn't a bad score. 

*Update* They do provide fresh water with the boutique espresso! 9.5/10 (It isn't chilled)

Spiders

We have a new friend in the front garden; actually, we had another golden orb a few years ago and she was so well fed - our garden is a spiders paradise in terms of the number of insects we support - that I thought we'd be starting a colony of them. But no,the distribution system for baby spiders seems to be totally uninformed by historical information, so this is the first one we've had since then.




I haven't quite got the hang of this camera yet - it is auto focus only (but it has a great anti-shake mechanism, so I don't need to set out the tripod, which my serious camera demands) so sometimes it chooses to focus on not what I think is the point of the whole exercise.

Near and far

This is the new desk (detail, as they say) - recycled bluegum, sanded to within an inch of its life, oiled and sanded some more, and then oiled and sanded again. If I wasn't constitutionally lazy, I might have tried the 800-grain sandpaper, and the pumice powder. But I am, so I didn't - still, it's smooth enough to create an impression of unusual smoothness; it's more polished than our commercially finished pieces. I'm very pleased with it, although I have to admit that it doesn't quite match up to Liz' bathroom work.

We actually found a new recycled timber place in Rockdale (which is where this comes from) so we may end up with a house entirely full of timber, because they have just an endless supply of truly amazing pieces. Particularly taken with a fireplace surround that is bigger than our living room.

I haven't quite finished the desk yet; I want to put some shelving under it as well. Modern life, eh. Three laptops. The giant screen is my attempt to fight off eye strain while studying this year; I can read two documents on it in slightly magnified A4 size, and type on a third on the laptop screen. The little one is still going because it runs some software I haven't managed to get going on Microsoft's latest OS yet - the third one is Liz's, although I'm slowly colonising it.

There is a plan to reduce the clutter, but not yet a plan how to reduce the clutter. The original design brief for the table was somewhere to put the computers and paint!

This is the "far" of the title - about as far as I go really - Penrith whitewater rafting facility, leftover from the Olympics. I'm about to leap in a raft and see how wet one man can get without falling in the water. This is where Liz broke her wrist last year, so it's amazingly brave of her to be back. It's all part of training for the Yukon, which has whitewater, unlike the recent Murray trip. The Murray does have whitewater, but not on the marathon course.

The course is an eye-opener as to how strong the Olympic standard competitors need to be - they have to paddle upstream through half the gates, and let me tell you paddling downstream is extremely hard work. My arms ache today. And they don't really turn on the taps fully for us - it really is hard to believe that going upstream is even possible, let alone that you can steer through a "gate".

Pambula

Obviously Pambula is a pretty remote outlying area of Andrewsville, although, given childhood holidays, perhaps not as remote as might be thought at first glance. This time we stayed at Pambula Lake & I have a couple of nice photos. Otherwise, I doubt this entry would have happened.

A nice piece of rural humour (like the asking price for land around here!). It's one of the few elements of rural life that I have found myself in sympathy with down the years. Fake bishops as race marshals, Elvis Presley roads to nowhere.

Art, really. This is one of Liz' pictures; she has steady hands and a good eye. I see hundreds of ideas for what I think are good photographs, but not so many of them turn out. Even if I take 50 on the principle that one might be OK, it usually isn't. But this uses depth of field very nicely to take your eye across the page and create movement.

Well, this actually is the result of one of the take 50 pictures attempts. If you think it's easy getting butterflies to pose for you...

Having to manual focus didn't help the hand shake, either. But I am quite pleased with it, obviously, or it wouldn't be here. I tried taking pictures of butterflies in Malaysia, in a butterfly house, and the only decent pictures I could get there were of dead ones (there were plenty, I didn't have to kill them myself). This is a big improvement.

There's nothing wrong with cute animal pictures. 20% of all ducks have a different way of looking at things. Wonder if it works better for them than for me?

The region of Enmore

The boom in extremely local food/coffee plus the Sunday market has taken Enmore off the frequently visited list; it's shifted to the outskirts of Andrewsville while I was away. And I don't eat pizza, which eliminates the two Italian, two Turkish & one Lebanese pizza place. Although, in point of fact, I have been at war with one of the Italian places over their half-and-half pricing policy (which fluctuates randomly) for about five years & the other one is ordinary. I only ever ate pizza at one of the two Turkish places, because it was there first and I felt sorry for them when a bright shiny competitor opened next door. It (the competitor) is very good for all non-Turkish-pizza Turkish food, and that's where I would take you for lunch, so my pity hasn't really helped the original place that much. The Lebanese pizza is post my retiring from pizza eating, so I can only comment that it smells less offensive than pizza places generally do. And it's quite cheap.

I don't eat Thai food any more. It doesn't really bear repetition. Thai restaurants generally remind me of the 1960's Cantonese-Australian Chinese restaurant - still readily found in country towns, serving a kind of compromised, standardised hotchpotch. When I had Thai students they never stopped complaining how bad Australian Thai food was, and I had no trouble agreeing. There are good places, of course, but they are increasingly hard to find. Compromised standard hotchpotch is so popular that there is really no incentive to one-up it.

Years ago the first of the Enmore breakfast/coffee places was run by a couple of Greek guys & their mother cooking. It was next to the laundromat & newsagent so made itself compulsory during the prolonged renovation & on rainy weekends (we don't have a dryer). Those guys have moved on, there are four (five?) competitors within 400 metres, all of them failing to create a compelling space. Also the laundromat has been converted into a bakery, and the other laundromat is now a locksmith.

There is one Chinese-owned patisserie & coffee place that if I am having a stop in Enmore will be where you find me. They do great doughnuts (which I no longer eat) and their French pastry range is perfectly OK. Sadly the coffee isn't great, but they hang original art on the walls & conduct extremely loud Mandarin conversations in the kitchen so I can practice eavesdropping.

There's a new bakery but it's pretty expensive. None of the boutique bakers, apart from Bourke St, come even vaguely close to the Marrickville downmarket bakers, at least not for value & traditional French/Italian breads.

Enmore has my bank; there's a fair chance that if that closed I wouldn't come here at all.

Enmore Theater has a coffee shop/cafe that drips unrenovated-for-50-years atmosphere. It's only open at night (early evening, more precisely) though & we're generally too busy to go. And I don't eat muffins/cakes/tiramisu/strudel any more. Nor can I sensibly drink coffee and sleep within a 6 hour timeframe. Still, it's a pleasure to be able to be nostalgic about it. I love high-ceilinged places where, when empty, all the noise seems to disappear into the ceiling space making the booths unnaturally silent. The silence is strong enough to create privacy - words don't move sideways through it. When the place is crowded, the high space captures all the noise and blends it into accoustic padding; everything you say is muffled and your conversation never gets close to the next table.

Faheem's Fast Food ought to be more legendary that it is; they have a particular mastery over the Tandoor oven, and they do some dahl combinations that I have never seen anywhere else. Being a twelve year plus regular give me the peculiar privilege of fractionally less surly service than everyone else. They won't have enjoyed the last cricket season, being as they are, a Pakistani,rather than Indian, restaurant. This place used to be legendary with the subcontinental taxi-driving community & we were frequently to only Anglo's there; that was when they were on the downhill side of the Warrenview pub & there was plenty of parking. When they moved into the Newtown side of Enmore they lost the parking and a fair whack of their taxi trade, but they put their prices up by a couple of dollars (still cheap) and they are packed with low rent cool people (Enmore residents). A Bangladeshi restaurant opened next door - made absolutely zero impact & now FFF has taken over that space as well. To give you a vague idea of how good this place is, I have Melbourne friends who insist on being taken there when they come to visit.

Coffee

Within 10 minutes walk, these are the main coffee places.

2204, on Addison Rd opposite the laundromat & barber. Great place for coffee, the de-rendered brick interior is fantastic to look at, just like the house at various times during renovation, only, designed, not accidental. And more finished - they presumably were paying the guy who knocked the render off the walls, unlike me relying on voluntary labour. Makes a big difference. It's cleverly lit, too, there are angles, shadows, highlights and glow as in old timber. Fantastic seats, comfortable, stylish, not overcrowded. Great coffee, a cappuccino which actually combines the flavours of milk & coffee successfully. But, but, but but but - the food is ordinary & not cheap. I had a croissant there which they wanted to heat up for me; I found out why when I declined - it was at least a full day stale. At the milkbar over the road I can buy a fantastic fresh daily croissant for $1.30. OK, maybe I'm a cheapskate, but $3.50 is a big mark up for the chair. I don't think it's fair to eat someone else's croissant, so 2204 misses out on my coffee dollar if I'm feeling peckish. Also, the milkbar has legendary snails for the same $1.30 price. If, that is, you get there in time - recently someone else has discovered them who gets up earlier than I do. Still, in pure coffee terms, 2204 can't be faulted.

Update on 2204 - it has acquired a license & a chef. The menu is a touch generic (but so are customers, what can you do?), although having said that the BLT, hold the lettuce, add grilled haloumi is a fantastic idea. A hot cheese sandwich. Cool. Well, now they have some significant points of difference.

The local newsagent also sells coffee at three tables outside the shop & to a couple of stools perched around the espresso machine. His pricing is right ($1 for a long black) & his croissants are fair at $2.50 - you expect to pay a loading for the seat - especially as they are always fresh as well. He has a sensational almond croissant for those who might not be counting calories. Prior to 2204 opening I was semi-regular here because coffee, croissant, newspaper & low key is a perfect quadrangle for me. The problem was, and is, that the coffee is very weak & milky. You can ask for it to be stronger, but then it's very bitter/acorny. In fact, here is the reason I have started drinking cappucino after a lifetime of long blacks & macciato. I'm not such a news addict at the moment, so I've given up this traditional (since about 1977 for me) morning. In fact, even if I were still a news junkie - impossible since the SMH turned tabloid & the Australian lurched to the gutter right - I'd probably pay the extra dollar and read the paper in 2204 because, after all, what's a dollar? If I skip the croissant I'm still ahead of the financial game. It's a bit sad, because there's an quality of accident to coffee at the newsagents which a coffee place can never have. But it doesn't offset the coffee issue.

For the serious minimalist, there's a bulk coffee roaster - Coffee Alchemy - at the other end of Addison who sells coffee by the cup for consumption on a very hard bench or two very hard chairs outside for the smokers. This is pretty hard to fault, except that they only do one blend in the espresso machine, so in-shop experimentation is not possible . They do have other blends available as drip filter for taste testing, if that's your form. I like both the espresso blends I buy from them, they probably get about 30% of my domestic supply. No mucking around with food. There's a lot going on some days; you can get a big batch roast happening in the back room while an experimental roast is happening on a spare corner of the front counter - times, temperatures & aroma notes scribbled down on stock notes. As well as the smell of the coffee coming out of the machine (harsh to call it a cliche, because it IS a great smell, but as an ambiance note it is a lazy tick for most coffee shops) there is the faintly sour, somewhat grassy smell of green beans roasting.

If you turn left at Enmore Rd halfway up the hill is the Bus Stop coffee shop. It has good coffee, but it mainly has stools. I don't sit on stools except at Pellegrini's, so I haven't adopted it. I could in theory, I pass it about 6 times a week walking up to Enmore. One thing that I do like a lot - but not quite enough to overcome stool-phobia - is that there is automatic drinking water with every coffee. I'm a big fan of water. Note - last trip there was no water, and the coffee was milky. It will be the last trip now in both senses of the word. Note to note - still no water (compelled to use it to kill 30 minutes waiting for my bike rims to be drilled to fit the bog-standard tyre valve which is all you can get on the antique 27" tubes I have to use) but, but, they have a bookshelf. With stuff that is actually worth reading. And a table with chairs rather than stools. Recalibration of the coffee universe occurring. Hear the cogs grinding as the increasingly aplastic neural matter rearranges itself.

Turn right, and walk for maybe 400 meters and you get to the Bourke St. franchise in Mitchell street. This is a bakery first and coffee shop second, but they get the majority of my local coffee spend because their food is fantastic. The pies are superb - not hot enough for my taste, I like to burn my tongue on the first bite & these are actually perfect temperature for immediate consumption - but superb anyway. Likewise the sausage rolls, which contain meat. Their croissant/danish/pain au choc/ are all OK, priced at Paddington boutique rather than Marrickville baker prices (there are two bakeries that don't sell coffee in Marrickville which do fantastic croissants/danishes at $1.50 & $1.30, walk for another 10 minutes). However Bourke St.s killer bread is their sourdough & rye loaves. It is impossible to leave without buying one. They've nearly got me to give up on Vienna loaves. Ah, and another thing. The custard in their tarts is unbelievable. I have no idea what they are doing, but it is superb. Stunning. More than makes up for the rather biscuity tart, which I don't like, but is low in shortening if you pay attention to that kind of thing.

Forewarned

All the places that I go must constitute a space uniquely defined. This is some of it.

This is my favourite church in Marrickville; St Brigid's; it's angular, rendered, demanding attention against a blue sky. The light poles belong to Henson Park, where I used to run, and now cycle, every morning. The trees are in Jarvie Park, behind the high school.

Henson Park is a former quarry, now an amphitheatre for, most famously, the Newtown Jets, but also Australian Rules on alternate weekends. I'm sure the residents around it are content as things are, but it's a tragedy we can't find a use for it as a performance venue. Largest crowd recorded was around 40,000, during the 1938 Empire Games, which is what Henson Park was built for. The hill opposite is huge, not far off the Myer Music Bowl. It's also the site of several model plane accidents (mine); it's too windy.

I'm sure the man himself never got to see his memorial grandstand, but I hope he would have been pleased with it. It's elegant; the curved tin roof and the curved rear windows are unusual touches on a suburban grandstand, and the clarity and scale are interesting. It seems simultaneously larger than you'd expect and perfectly fitted into what is really not a particularly large oval. In fact, the fence lane of the oval is 480 meters. The cycle track behind the seats is 190 meters more at 570 meters. It isn't really a cycle track by design, but since the original velodrome track has been replaced (post the 1938 Empire Games), the maintenance vehicle access path serves a double function. It's also popular with the walkers who occupy the early mornings. It's a pity not to recognise the architect for a good, if undemonstrative, job.

The other church on the skyline is St Clements. I like the camouflaged steeple, but I haven't heard of any accidents with low flying planes yet.

It's two blocks south of St Brigid's, and about 10 minutes walk from Henson Park. It's a red brick church, with a massive slate roof that lifts the ambience from the suburban to the, well, let's say gestural. It doesn't have much street presence but as part of a landscape it manages some impact.