Ray

Ray has been an institution in Brunswick for quite some years now.  Originally set up by Mark Dundon of St Ali and Seven Seeds fame, it is a cool little place with a few small tables and one large table for communal worship of coffee.  I remember when Ray opened.  Mark was the best café owner ever.  He stood behind the coffee machine like the captain of a ship stands behind the wheel.  He surveyed his domain with a careful eye, directing his staff to tables and always delivering quickly on an order.  He recognised locals (well, he recognised me and still does if we visit him at his new establishments) and could remember what you had ordered last time.  He was often trying out a new coffee and my partner got quite a few free sample cups.

 

Ray has since changed hands.  It is still cool and groovy.  There is a bit more stencil graffiti on the walls out the front, there is a new (yarn bombed) bike rack to house the fixies, and the inside has the worn patina of a café that has served a vast number of people.  I usually order a chai when I am there.  They have recently switched from loose leaf chai to a tea bag (the fault of their tea supplier) which I am a bit sad about…but there are plenty of other loose leaf teas to choose from.

Ahh, we love Nick!

I don’t visit Ray as often as I used to.  It is hard work with a pram.  When it is quiet (not at lunch or breakfast time) I try and pop in.  It is very close to our house, and when we bought the place the fact that it was 400 metres to Ray was a huge selling point.  They are always welcoming, and do serve a ‘little coffee’ as we call a babyccino (hate the word babyccino).  The last time I actually ate at Ray I was in the very early stages of labour with my son.  I knew it was coming, someone had taken our then three year old daughter while we got down to the business of having a baby, my partner and I jumped at the opportunity to have a last supper - or last brunch as the case may have been.  We had some delicious pumpkin/fetta/rocket Turkish pide.  It was, as I knew it would be, delicious and reasonably priced.  The focus on food with a local flavour (Middle Eastern) is right up my alley.  One of the reasons I love Brunswick is the huge Middle Eastern and Turkish influence.

Last week we stopped for a cuppa at Ray, after dropping our daughter at her first day of kindergarten.  It was great to get out amongst it with only one (immobile and not yet talking) child.  We sat out the front (easier with the pram) and while we sipped our very good beverages we noticed a few small changes.

•  The council has made changes to the rules about café tables.  Ray used to have three tables attached to the front wall of their café which were shaded by the red awning.  No more.  There is outdoor seating which offers the same ply box seats as before, but with a low ply box bench as the table.  It isn’t quite the same, and would make eating with cutlery a challenge.  It is also no longer in the shade of the awning…we roasted a bit.   
• The walls out the front, and the décor inside were looking a little tired.  The external walls used to have a few stencil bombs.  Cool.  Now, it is a hash of so many bombs that you can hardly differentiate one from the other (okay, maybe I am a bit harsh).  But, they really are a bit OTT.  Inside the things that were once a drawcard, and a bit different, (like the little CCTV which showed the baristas making coffees which is still on the wall but doesn’t work) are not looking so hot.  The pieces of fabric that are framed look like they need a wash, or a complete facelift.  
•   The opening hours are shorter than they used to be (a bit sad for those who want to stop in late afternoon).  There were all sorts of rules about when the kitchen shut, and when you could only have a take away coffee.  C’mon guys!
•   There were two signs up calling the café RAYS.   One sign apologising for the moved outdoor tables ‘from RAYS’, and the other stating ‘RAYS opening hours’.  

  

  Rays??  Where is the apostrophe?!

  
  

The joy of visiting Ray!

Now…I am a teacher (so is my partner) and this addition of an S without the apostrophe is a real crime in our world.  Unless the café has changed names to Rays (like rays of sunshine), we would like to know where the apostrophe is!?  And Rays is much less cool than straight Ray.  Ray is enigmatic.  Is it a ray of light?  A man?  What?  It makes the café seem like its own entity.  Rays…hmmm, just a tad outer suburban?  Sounds like Ray own the place…and has forgotten his apostrophe.

 

Anyway.  I still like Ray.  I vaguely know one of the baristas (lovely young guy) and I still recognise many of the regulars.  But best of all, I still feel like one of the cool and groovy people who know the secret, when I step in the door.

Coffee

I don’t drink coffee.  I never have, and can pretty honestly say that I never will.  I don’t like the bitter taste, even of the milkiest-weak latte, even of a dessert with a hint of mocha.  People are often astounded.  ‘You don’t even like the smell of it?!’ they cry when they hear about my aversion to the drink which seems to have become the Grange of Melbourne.  Nope, not even the smell of it.  

I can, however, understand the obsession and the love that some have for the bitter brew.  I live in an inner city suburb which is becoming famed for its café culture of single origin beans, fair trade beans, roasted on sight beans.  There is talk of the right ‘grind’ and of only heating milk to 62.5 degrees.  It is a serious business.  Even today in the paper there is yet another article about yet another café (Patricia) opened in the city with its own take on coffee and how to drink it  ( www.theage.com.au/.../black-or-white-short-or-long-20120206-1r0s... )  Melbourne is coffee mad.

Young men in skinny jeans and moustaches hop off their fixie bikes at various hole-in-the-wall venues to tweet about the quality of the coffee on offer.  I sometimes (read, often) privately (read, publicly) scoff at these Gen Y youths.  How cool they think they are!  But then I remember a time, not so long ago, when WE were the cool youths discovering the new place to hang out.  Actually, it was my friends and I who made ‘breakfast the new dinner’.   Who were those frequenting the new style of café.  Ordering gourmet breakfasts to cure our hangovers after a night out at a new bar.   Loitering over the paper and an extra latte, pot of tea or Limonata if it was really bad news.  Without our trail blazing, cafes would still be places of greasy toasted sandwiches and pies or focaccias and a bottle of coke.  

 I digress.  Coffee.

I wish I could will myself to like coffee.  Lattes with patterns on top are so appealing.  So is the idea that you can get a good take away coffee in a cool reusable cup.  I drink tea, (a whole other blog entry will be devoted to the topic), and you can’t really do a good take away tea.  It is always some sad little teabag in a paper cup that costs $3.50.  I don’t think so.

I also like all the gadgetry and accessories that come with coffee love.  People travel far and wide to get their favourite coffee.  They speak of their own coffee grinders, coffee machines, milk jugs.  The list goes on.  I understand this.  I love stuff.  Especially kitcheny stuff.  Especially shiny, groovy looking kitcheny stuff.

My partner loves coffee.  I have learnt to ask the important questions.  ‘Is it a good one?’  ‘How’s the froth?’, ‘It’s not too hot is it?’.  I have paid attention to the answers.  I can tell you where the good stuff is, and where to avoid.

Over the last few years (since the birth of our first child funnily enough) there has been talk of a coffee machine at our house.  But which one to buy?  Where to put such a large contraption in our kitchen?  How much do we need to spend to get a good one?  Why are they so ugly?!

The original Atomic

Then it was discovered that my parents had an Atomic.  A beautiful Italian stovetop cappuccino machine.  Made of gleaming cast aluminium and Bakelite. http://www.atomiccoffeemachine.com/ They had received it as a wedding present some forty years earlier and it had languished in a cupboard ever since.  I had never, ever seen it before.  My parents had all my life (until very recently) only drunk Nescafe Blend 43, with Moccona for special occasions.  Now they are into Robert Timm’s coffee bags and the odd plunger for guests.  I dropped hints about the Atomic.  I admired it, loudly.  And finally I flat out asked for it.  ‘ON LOAN,’ my mother said.  'It has to come back'.  Obviously, her cupboard would miss it.    We took the loan.  Here was a coffee machine that wasn’t enormous, but more importantly was beautiful, and made a good cup.  The shape and shine of the little unit make it a pleasure to have out on your stove all day, every day.  The steamer, totally controlled by you, is not high tech. Using the Atomic is like driving a fantastic old manual car.  Just my cup of tea.

How shiny!

Internet research ensued.  We could not afford to buy an Atomic of our own.  No longer in production, they cost almost $1000 for a working model.  Sigh.   

More internet research revealed that another such lover of the Atomic had got hold of the design specs and had been producing the La Sorrentina machine in Taiwan ( www.sorrentinacoffee.com ).  Still not cheap, and looking EXACTLY like an Atomic of old, it was the next best thing.  My partner’s birthday was coming up.  I ordered the machine online and waited.  I also ordered a milk jug and a tamper.  I told you about my love of gadgets.

 La Sorrentina.  I chose emerald green  knobs

Well, I LOVE the La Sorrentina.  I have jokingly told my partner that if we ever separate that I get the coffee machine.  Even though it was my gift to her.  Even though I don’t drink coffee.  She has never had to make a coffee on it.  I am perfecting my skills as a barista.  I can froth the milk to a dense creamy texture.  Even soy and skinny!  I have had a crash course…well, one lesson, in latte art.  A friend’s fiancé came around and showed me how to stretch the milk and to pour it into a glass with flourish. He demonstrated a pretty little fern, and I have been trying to replicate it ever since.  So far I have managed to make the heart coffee, the squiggle coffee, and most frequently – the foetus coffee.  I will continue until I get it right!

The heart.  Not bad for soy!

I am also experimenting with which coffee works best to get the right strength in a latte.  I have entered into deep discussions with the man at George’s Negrita Coffee  http://www.negrita.com.au/ in Victoria Street about the coffee I need.  I have settled on Blavatsky.  A strong coffee with a nutty aroma.  It is dark in colour and 500 grams of it seems to stay fresh until it is all gone.  He keeps pushing me to try the Cuban blend that he has on offer.  I suspect it might be a bit strong, but will probably give it a crack in the future.

 

 

 

A bit of a cultural landmark in the neighbourhood.

I like buying my coffee from Negrita Coffee.  It is an old school store wedged between Ray (the original very cool café in Brunswick) and the railway line.  There are probably 30 jars of beans to choose from.  They are weighed carefully on an ancient set of gorgeous green enamel scales and then ground to suit your machine.  In the course of my many chats with the Italian man who owns the store.  He has talked me through the kinds of coffee, and we have been experimenting with choices.  He doesn’t understand why I don’t drink the stuff, but likes to have a chat.  He claims that the Blavatsky is a coffee that ‘you really know you are drinking’.  I just know that it makes a dark, almost syrupy drop which combines perfectly with my stretched milk to create a caramel coloured latte for my beloved and any friends who drop by.  

I have, on occasion, bought Padre coffee from the Brunswick East Project. http://padrecoffee.com.au/  It is, according to my partner, always deliciously tasty.  The staff (those Gen Y skinny jeans types) are helpful and really know their stuff, but it doesn’t have the same olde-worlde ceremony as visiting George’s Negrita.  I do like to sit in at the Brunswick East Project and have a tea and a cake-thing when I get the chance.  It isn’t really set up with space for a pusher, but I can cram mine in if need be.  I know it is a favourite haunt of many friends and I can see the appeal.  

White with one please.

I feel very blessed to live within a stone’s throw of so many good cafes.

 

Enough said on the topic of coffee in the neighbourhood.   I'm off to make myself a cup of tea.