Date: 29 December 2013
Location: Northbridge, Perth
Price: Moderate ($19ish-$20 for dish & coffee)
Today’s brunch safari took us to the wilds of Northbridge/Highgate in Perth, destination: Sayer’s Sister.
At first blush I read Slayer’s Sister, thinking we’d be heading to a Vic Park weed den to live out the bikie gang fantasies that abound south of the river. But I was pleasantly and legally surprised to discover a vogue eatery on the heels of urban gentrification near the corner of Lake St and Bulwer St.
This is an area I know well: my mother used to live a few houses down and an ex-flame/FWB lived morning-after-pill distance from the entrance around the corner. Memories of drug raids down the road, fossilised first-generation Mediterranean geriatrics and gays-seeking-shelter wafted through the air as we executed a bad parallel park. Nearby, a mirage of shouty hobos eloped through the shadowed light.
We had organised to meet two of my erudite and witty law school friends for a chin-wag: one former prosecutor , Craig, who left the chivalrous travails of sending hardened criminals to Hakea Prison’s air bnb for the dubious delights of political advisory work in Canberra; together with another a firmly litigious soul, Kate, who’s insightful cynicism is better than anything therapy can provide.
Rocking up, Craig had cornered a table of four beside some inner city types that smothered my view. Thank god they were fit – social shaming has its benefits. In my flurry I’d sent Kate to the eponymous Sayer’s in ‘never quite gets it’ Leederville. You’d think they’d more easily differentiate for the likes of lazy out-of-towners.
The cafe occupied a former gallery space. We conjectured that the failure of the art market was in this case a good thing and perhaps (definitely) related to the former owners’ divorce. The usual bevy of handsome backpackers and suitably skinny Eurovisionaries were serving with a smile. Pleasantries of snide gossip aside we commenced ordering.
You order at the till at Sayer’s Sister, so replace translational tomfoolery with the joys of queuing. One annoyance is one card per table and an ATM for cash, just trés inconvenient. Nevertheless, the flirty/MILFY waitress let us both pay by card, must’ve been my tan. Minimalism in service was order of the day and we were well looked after.
The food was fantastic: each dish was well-sized and prepared. Orders were:
These come with a warning of a 20 minute wait, but are well worth it. They come doubled-up, consisting of a mealy batter, earthier
than the usual pussycat pancakes we’re used to. Drizzled in sugardom, they were accompanied by an arpeggio of caramelised fruits and creamy-butteriness. The best thing was that Craig paid for them but gave us half.
Feta-egg omelettes & salmon
For the problem alcoholic fishmonger in all of us, this is the dish. This scrambled omelette/egglette with feta cheese, spinach and tequila-cured salmon made itself very welcome in my gullet. Generous portions and delicious.
Paigerie still felt guilty about eating bacon, so orders this bruschetta (which usually comes with bacon) with salmon instead. Molested in avocado and some modey jus, she sang its praises though complained about the ‘rectangular’ plates upon which it was served. Apparently the food doesn’t taste as good…I tried using tensor calculus to argue that flavour was geometrically invariant but was met with flappy indifference.
Bacon & eggs
Kate ordered this staple of western obesity and wasn’t disappointed: again, well served; the eggs were poached and very well done and bacon suitably 2013.
Excellent coffee all around, flet wets were great.
Quote: “Not connected with Leo Sayer”
For Perthites returning to nestle for a while, Sayer’s Sister is worth the convenient pilgrimage. A nice oasis in a mean-reversionary desert.