Grey Street Kitchen

It’s a bright, chilly Sunday morning when my boyfriend and I nip into the Grey Street Kitchen, our breath following in cloudy trails behind us. We are so relieved to find the place heated that I am tempted to give them five stars on the spot.

Inside, the GSK is packed with tables full of university lecturers, the odd student, and those who have wandered in after browsing Grey St’s Sunday market stalls. It’s loud in here, which is one of the only reasons I don’t come very often.  Hard walls, hard furniture, not a scrap of fabric in sight to absorb the sound; this is not the place to come if you are after an intimate conversation.

My boyfriend orders the Eggs Benedict with roast vegetables ($17.50). It arrives stacked on its plate, looking lovely all smothered in warm hollandaise sauce. For some reason, however, the chef has decided to put what tastes like pickled capsicum on it. It’s an interesting idea, but it doesn’t work. The flavour takes over, and while the hollandaise is nice and buttery you almost can’t taste it.

I opt for the day’s breakfast special: gluten-free ricotta hotcakes with caramelized apple, raisins and maple syrup ($14). The words “gluten free” usually put me off, but the rest of the description makes my mouth water, and after a few bites I forget that the dish was intended for a Celiac sufferer. Almond meal, I am told, has been used instead of wheat flour, and the hotcakes are moist and crumbly, drunk with syrup, and too rich much for me to finish. The apples are a tad sweet and make my teeth cringe, but otherwise it’s a delicious plate of food.

The coffee, in my experience, isn’t consistent here.  I’ve had both wonderful and average cups depending on who’s behind the machine, and today’s long black ($3.50) is the latter. It’s drinkable, but I don’t order a second.

Essentially, the food here is nice, the coffee is average to good, the staff are friendly even when it’s busy, and there is plenty seating both inside and out. One of my favourite things to do here is simply stare out the window at passers-by. Call me a voyeur, and I’ll tell you that a decent vantage spot for people-watching can be a café’s best selling point.

3 ½ stars