Moo.

Caffiendish Five: Via Battisti

- October 29, 2011

In the fifth Caffiendish our hearty cafe-man Ramshackle delves into the heart of suburbia, and finds great coffee.

Via Battisti: 26 Lochiel Avenue, Mt Martha.

I always thought the specialty coffee industry was exclusive to the inner/slightly-outer city suburbs; a reward for the brave souls willing to battle the city life of congestion, noise, and the lingering cocktail of car fumes, body odour, and piss.

I thought you couldn’t have your cake and eat it too. It’s either local good coffee, or trees and surf. However, Via Battisti allows me to horde my cake and chow it down like a stoner in a 7-Eleven.

Down south, towards the pointy wang of Victoria, Mt. Martha serves as a cesspool for young ‘working families’, old people occasionally leaving their four-by-two flats in search of a lava hot cappuccino, and rich moguls sitting back, counting their cash.

Standing out amongst all the burnt espressos, and gigantic mutilated jugs of ashy milk, Via Battisti serves as an oasis in the scorching desert of suburbia.

The coffee is boss. My Ethiopian Sidamo short-black rang with the delicate notes, and fruity flavours that Sidamo usually boasts. I had a couple of flat whites, one of which was bold while the other, unfortunately, was a bit lacking. Like warm sweet milk. They also served a nice pour over, which was slightly bitter, but still retained its lingering sweetness.

The thing that really made me lose my shit was their cold drip: An iced coffee drink that is prepared overnight by letting the ground coffee brew with cold water and ice for at least 12 hours. The result is the most refreshing, viscous, chilled coffee beverage with some amazing whiskey notes.

Just imagine, relaxing on the beautiful Mt. Martha beach in the summer before walking across the road to Via Battisti where you grab a cold drip, sit outside at the bench, and watch the sun go down. Shit is picturesque.

The set up of the cafe is, itself, a rare blend of perfection. The interior is decked out like an old Italian deli, selling all sorts of things that I know I want to buy: meats, gourmet ice creams, small Italian sweets, cheeses, and even amazing cookware. They even have a liquor license! However, the icing on this already superb cake is its location right next to the beach. There aren’t many places in the world where you can enjoy golden sand and waves, before retiring to a quality espresso “just like mamma use to make”.

They have no bog, but they do have free wifi. As Lauren “sunshine and rainbows” Morris says: “Who needs a bog when you’ve got free wifi?”

A word on the food: My mates often have their house well stocked with bread, cereal, and milk, but still find themselves migrating to Via Battisti in search of sustenance in the morning. It’s the little things that make their food an indulgence instead of just rations. Their fruit toast is served with honey and mascapone. My meatball ciabatta was served with a little side dish of olive oil and balsamic vinegar. The second that oily, meaty, tomatoey, herby, cheesey piece of heaven hit my lips, I realised why people believe in god and strive to be filled with His Grace (whatever the fuck that means…)

Via Battisti gives me hope. The specialty coffee industry is spreading out, and people in less central areas are getting the opportunity to have their ‘local’ as a place of quality. I can safely say that Via Battisti is on the list of reasons I would be on the Mornington Peninsula, amongst drinking beer on a beach, and stealing food from my parents fridge.

 

Coffee = 53/60

Cafe = 23/26

Caffeindish Four: Three Bags Full

- October 8, 2011

Ramshackle delves into Abbotsford haunt Three Bags Full, indulges in fine piccolos and indulgent sandwhiches in this brand new mega-sex giant-coffee-syringe version of Caffiendish.

Three Bags Full: 60 Nicholson St, Abbotsford

Indie area + indie building + indie scene = good coffee. The hipster ignorati demand it like the middle classes demand ‘lower taxes’.

Baked into the inner crust of the eastern suburbs, Three Bags Full is another great example of how the proliferation of specialty coffee joints warrants it a crime to accept anything less than superb coffee. Shopping for price and location isn’t even the issue: the prices are the same, and these places are EVERYWHERE.

Set in Abbottsford, down from sunny/druggy Victoria Street, Three Bags Full is a brilliant cafe for the coffee afficianado and ‘the Aussie punter’ alike. They offer a fully fleshed out breakfast and lunch menu, as well as a house blend  that has a wonderful mild flavour, while retaining it’s full bodied acidity. It’s a welcoming way to get your caffeine buzz on, much like the buzz many school girls/tool-belted footy bogans get from drinking sugary, colourful alcopops. “It’s a chicks drink but it gets you fucked up.” It’s a coffee that I could drink all day before I realise that I’m jittery.

My El Salvadorian single-origin espresso was a nutty/fruity affair. It had a bit of a clumpy crema, but it still delivered a sharp punch. Side note: get on the El Salvadorian singles. I love me some El Salvadorian, like Konk’s editor Thomas “You want?” Abildgaard loves befriending, eating, and occaisionally masturbating to pigs. Their piccolo with the same bean, served in an espresso cup, was brilliant also. They also provided me an aeropress, which is a sort of giant syringe coffee-extraction device for a faster, syphon-like drink with slightly less subtlety. It was superb. I haven’t had a non-esspresso based coffee that good since Proud Mary first took away the last remanents of my caffeinated innocence. The barista-babe even gave me instructions on how to opperate my own aeropress (“me home rig”). They displayed their professionalism with printed coffee menus listing their house blend and their range of singles, with their corresponding brewing methods, and the tasting notes on all of the coffees. Real classy.

The food is also good here. They present a big ol’ breakfast and lunch menu, delivering a bunch of choice from their kitchen in the back. Thom’s breakfast sandwich was boss: It makes walking from Victoria Street and not saving money on the many genius $3.50 pork rolls damn feasible. However, one trap that Three Bags, and a whole load of other cafes, fall for, is having a seriously limp-dicked display cabinet for their fast lunch options. Some empty-looking, unappetising, and cold display: A few lazy baguettes and dry cakes, usually with a couple of fluorescent lights, one not quite working. Why bother? Fill your cafe with the smell of roasting beans and bacon, and people will buy shit. Cafes have food, it’s not a secret…

The hanging lights promote the same kind of warehouse feeling as Axil Coffee Roasters, however it seems like more effort has gone into it being… *sigh*… arty. Also, since they took over the cafe next to them, Three Bags are in the odd situation of have two locations, right next to each other. Thom and I sat down outside and had one person from each cafe come and ask us for our coffee order. Look, I don’t go to cafes to get confused and have to worry about things… That’s what Australian politics is for. Get it together guys: Knock that wall down and form the Megazord.

The waitress noted that Thom and I were smoking pipes and tried to make a joke out of it. Incorrect: The answer we were looking for was simply to feed our egos, and fetch us our coffees.

Three Bags Full is one of those cafes that I’d always heard great things about but had never been to. I implore you, it’s definitely worth visiting. With its stylish atmosphere and delicious coffee, Three Bags Full certainly holds its own as one of the great cafes in Melbourne.

 

Coffee = 28/30

Cafe = 12/15


Caffiendish Three: Cibi

- August 15, 2011

Ramshackle reloads dramatically and sprays your face with three rounds of cafe review. For this Caffiendish he went to Cibi in Collingwood, a Kook classic, and says some things about that.

Cibi: 45 Keele Street, Collingwood, more info.

After many weeks of indulging in my hedonistic lifestyle at many cafes, Konk’s editor Thomas Van Abildgaard (catch him live at Creamfields) insists that I earn my pay (pipe tobacco) by letting fly another one of my derelict reviews. It’s easy enough for me to go to the well known cafes and rave like any other critic muppet, so allow me to inform you of one of the secret wonders of Melbourne.

Jeff Green – “You love your cafes in Melbourne… what is it, one each?”

Melbourne likes its cafes like my girlfriend and I like eating fatty food while watching The Biggest Loser. I was of the opinion that the abundance of coffee houses was a bad thing as I found that most of them were terrible. It’s like “Oh you serve Lavazza? I don’t care, this is rubbish.”

However, of late, my opinion has changed because I’ve realised that there are many great cafes out amongst the crap… it’s just that they’re hidden. Take Cibi for example.

  • Cibi is well and truly hidden. Unless you know where you’re going or you’re carrying the Marauders Map, forget finding it. You need to take a well-timed right off Smith in Collingwood, then while you tiptoe around the seringes and fixies keep your eyes open for a completely plain building that looks like every other one.
  • Cibi is indier than thou. The scattered floor plan with arbitrarily chosen furniture integrated with the relaxed, informal nature of the staff and their attire gives the cafe such an unbuttoned, ramshackle (oh yeah) vibe that reeks of converse all-stars and Albert Hammond Jrn.’s guitar tone in ‘Is This It?’ It’s not a bad thing, but it helps if you like that kind of scene. It’s the kind of place you could sit reading or working on an assignment all day.
  • The simple, light menu isn’t going to fill you up to the point of requiring an impromptu mid-afternoon food nap. This is both a positive and a negative. You might find yourself heading down Smith afterwards in search of second breakfast, but the delicious sandwiches or the amazing bircher museli with fruit salad will leave you feeling refreshed like the feeling you get when there is actually something good on Triple J.

  • The coffee is ok. It’s not a specialty coffee place so I’m not going to get my caffiendish high that I’m constantly chasing much like the many small asians chasing their gambling losses in the kilometres of pokie machines in Crown. However, as far as your everyday cafe coffee goes, it’s passable. (I found myself walking to Proud Mary afterwards for a fill up).
  • There’s some Japanese Kitchen/Homewares stall area to the side of the cafe. It looks nice, but I can’t see myself paying thirty buck for some cutlery with some Japanese scriblings. Hell, I go to Sushi Sushi… I don’t give a shit.
  • I can’t tell if the waitress was flirting with Thomas and I or if  I was just more socially awkward than normal.

It may seem like I’ve painted Cibi out to be quite bland, but believe me, as soon as you go there you’ll understand. All together, it’s a lovely place and definitely a cafe you should have up your sleeve for whenever you’re trolling through unsavory  Collingwood. Cibi is a Konk Classic.

Coffee – 6/12

Cafe – 11/12

Photos by Max Denton, there are more here.

 

Caffiendish Two: Axil Coffee Roasters

- June 8, 2011

Ramshackle is back, with a vengeance. Or a new Caffiendish column. This time he hit up Axil in Hawthorn, because award-winning coffee tastes better.

Axil Coffee Roasters, 322 Burwood Road Hawthorn

People may think that this column is just an excuse for me to just go and hang out in amazing cafes with the veil of journalistic integrity. They’re absolutely right.

The Good

Axil Coffee Roasters is the newest offering from Melbourne’s fat selection of cafes, and straight up, they’ve come out guns blazing. There are some great reasons to go there:

  • As Meredith (Golden Plains) McCullough said, it’s an all-star cast:

David Makin – Five times Victorian barister champ, two times Australian champ, runner up in the Worlds in ’08.

Zoe Delany – Highly experienced barister and roaster, worked as head trainer for some big coffee companies.

Matt Perger – Australian barister champion and just recently came third in the 2011 World Barista Championship.

Make no mistake, caffeine is a drug, and given that, these guys are the most prominent and renowned mafia family in this town.

  • The service is better than Andy Roddick’s. As soon as you walk in, someone is smiling at you, offering you a seat or a take away. Usually I don’t like this, but they’re so damn friendly. In fact, the first time I went there, Dave Makin showed me to my seat and got me some water. My fanboy side was internally doing backflips. It shows a great deal of humility and appreciation for the customer when the boss dons an apron and greets people at the front door.

  • Axil, like many aggressive, shaved-head bull-dykes, has an industrial vibe: the high, curved  metal roof, wall-covering front windows, hanging down-lights, and a dividing wall lined with pot plants. They combine to give the cafe an unusual hydroponic feeling. Everything is on display. The three grinders sandwhiched between the two coffee machines are perched on long open benches, giving the coffee production processes a performance-like atmosphere.

  • They’ve decked out their gear appropriately. Axil is blazing two LaMarzoccos (each modified so each group handle has it’s own tank and pressure), three Mazzer Robur Coffee Grinders (pretty much the best grinder you can get for fast grinding and on-the-fly grind modifictation) and a couple of alternate brewing methods. Needless to say, both the house blend and varying single origins (all roasted on site) kick ass. Axil, with it’s lack of over-complexity in choice, provides a solid launching pad for anybody who is beginning their odyssey into the speciality coffee world.

The Less-Good

Of course, as Miles Davis vividly demonstrated when he went through his bullshit funk-fusion phase, nobody’s perfect:

  • The food is acceptable. It’s very tasty and definitely appropriate for the high-quality cafe that Axil is, but it didn’t wow me. I can’t see myself going back there with the intention of getting a big feed… unless I’ve got one of those shocking hangovers wherein I somehow convince myself that copious amounts of food will help (Spoiler alert: it never does).

  • While the service was good, there were still a couple of issues about us not getting everything. Thomas’ soup was lacking cheesy bread, my long macchiato was missing milk and they had to come back to our table and verify our food order, as they’d forgotton the specifics. I put it down to it still being new, they’ll pick up their game I’m sure.

PEA SOUP, BITCHES

  • The open-plan atmosphere seems to invite obnoxious mothers with dumbass oversized prams to go there with their loud, buzz-killing children. Seriously, just sit there and eat your fucking idiotic ‘babycino’ in silence you irritable pest. Santa’s not real… deal with it.

  • It’s pretty picky, but I wasn’t happy with the presentation of my long macchiato. The serving of a long mac varies from place to place, but I don’t think these guys got it right. It was just a double shot with some water in a latte glass and then some (not particularly foamy) milk in a little jug on the side. The coffee was delicious, but it felt a bit sloppy.
  • My mate had a hard time finding the bog.

Summationising

Given all of that, you’ll still find me in there regularly drinking award winning coffee from award winning baristas. It’s a no-brainer.

Coffee: 14.5/15

Cafe: 11.5/15

 

Photos by Max Denton.


Caffiendish One: Proud Mary

- May 22, 2011

Ramshackle delves into the seedy Collingwood underbelly, and ends up starting the cafe review column Caffiendish. First up, Proud Mary shines like an ironic fake diamond on a hipsters necklace.

Proud Mary - Love or Pacman?

Proud Mary, 172 Oxford Street, Collingwood

Short story

Proud Mary is awesome and you should go there.

Long story

Essentially, Proud Mary offers basically everything that’s available in speciallity coffee products. As a cafe it is remarkable (as an abattoir it is reprehensible). Things that are awesome about it:

  • An amazing house blend, as well as an atlas of single origin coffees.
  • A Frankenstein-style double Synesso esspresso machine and all sorts of alternate brewing.
  • Food that you’ll lose most of your future pay checks over.
  • Baristas with razor sharp skillz (that killz) and a friendly, knowledgeable wait staff.
  • Loads of other good (almost unecessarily good) features…

It’s too easy to sit here and rave about Proud Mary, so I won’t. Instead allow me to point out why I might not go there:

  • Urban headache. Proud Mary has said ‘we’re going to be one of those trendy Melbourne cafes’ and then they’ve taken it too far. The place is full of hard chairs and sharp tables. The staff have the kind of cool vibe where you worry that in talking to them, you’ll just embarrass yourself (that’s until you do talk to them, they’re lovely). There are three DJ decks… running an ipod. Fuck me.
  • The huge range of coffee, coupled with the plethera of ways to drink them creates a huge amount of difficult choice. It’s not the kind of place you can go in and say ‘regular coffee please’. Anyone who is thinking of developing an interest in specialty coffee could find themselves overwhelmed and not know where to start.
  • I saw two yuppie fuckwits reading the news on their iPads.
  • The acoustics are terrible. It’s always super loud, not an ideal place to chill out or do some homework.
  • It’s located stumbling distance from a particularly shit part of Smith St in Collingwood.
  • The light blue cappuccino cups make me question my already questionable sexuality.

Coffee – 10.5/11

Cafe – 10/11