Slow Poke Espresso
I’d spent all night feeling miffed about the swimming lesson debacle and so decided to call again in the morning. Yesterday little Finn started swimming lessons, he was wide-eyed with joy, kicking and splashing, for the entire half hour there wasn’t so much as a tear. For the rest of the day he dozed like an angel, so exausted from all his exercise. I loved it too, it was lovely and warm and I made sure to keep my head above water (with so many babies I didn’t like the thought of the pee to water ratio). However, some time in the afternoon we recieved a rather rude phone call demanding who had enrolled Finn and how old he is. I told her he was three months, to which she replied, “no he’s not he’s only two months” (he is three months next week). She went on to tell me that there had been a mistake and he would be withdrawn, we could try to get in again next year! When I called again this morning, I tried to reason with her, could he not come next week as he will be three months then? “No we can’t have kids starting at all different times he must have already turned three months at the start of the term.” Ok so I understand that there may be some sort of legal reason why they need these policies but the fact is that he has already started at the same time as all the other kids and he will be three months next week. Not to mention that I had ecplicitly asked whether it would be a problem that he was just under three months on enrolement and was assured it was fine. The conversation left me bitter, so bitter I had to go and get something nice to eat to sweeten my day. I decided to try a newbie. Slow Poke is about as new as my little boy. As I walked along Brunswick St looking for Slow Poke I noticed all the new places that are popping up everywhere. First Smith St was the new Brunswick St, now it seems Brunswick St is having a revival, may be it’s the new old Smith St?
Occupying the small space, formerly Pollen Industries, is Slow Poke, designed by Sasufi and constructed from recycled woods in line with their sustainable theme. All produce is locally sourced and organic, with baked goods arriving daily by bicycle from Loafer Bread Organic Bakery. Though slightly on the cramped size, it has a friendly, community vibe to it and one of the waiters quickly jumped to the door to help me through with the pram. A table was swiftly moved slightly to accommodate the pram and I was seated at the last available table in the room (although I did discover later that there was additional seating out back in the outdoor courtyard). The waiter asked if I would mind sharing if more people arrived, I didn’t mind but there was no need as tables vacated. There was a large communal table to my right full of an eclectic mix of people, enjoying lunch, the paper and a laptop, some eating alone, others sitting side by side with their lunch companion.
The menu was fairly limited and displayed on the blackboard, although what was on offer looked fresh and appealing. Perhaps, smashed avocado with chilli and herbs or pumkin and orange soup with sourdough toast. I was able to ogle various dishes as they went past my table and they all looked good. I saw someone eating the “Ham Sanga” and decided on that.
The sandwich was good, the bread was very fluffy and fresh with a crisp crust and various seeds scattered throughout. I was heartened that the ham was organic as I always feel guilty eating ham if I can’t be sure if it is free range, I hate the idea of a pigs being caged. The homemade mayo and mustard went well with the salty, tasty ham and the rocket was lovely and fresh with a good bite to it. Unfortunately they forgot the pickles (my favorite part).
The blood orange juice was refreshing and went well with the salty sandwich.
It was to be a fairly short visit as Finn was making some fairly explosive noises and sounds with accompanying smell, so bad that he actually didn’t want to sit down. So I hastily paid the bill and as there was no change-table set of down the road to change him in the car.
However, I was haunted by the itty bitty caramel slices that I had spied on the way out. I had resisted, with my last conversation with my mother ringing in my ears, she had commented that she had been reading my blog and I eat too much cake. Well it was a small cake and I had had a long walk around Brunswick St on top of doing a Mums and Bubs yoga class in the morning, so I decided a little slice wouldn’t hurt (technically it is not cake anyway). We headed back to Slow Poke, as it turned out I was short on coins by about 40 cents but the waiter smiled indulgently and said not to worry. It wasn’t until I made it back to the car and opened up the sticky brown paper bag that I realized just how kind he had been. There sat not one but two caramel slices. Well I won’t reveal what happened to them and the only witness was the old lady in the pink and purple pajamas putting her bins out at 4pm. The slices were rich and sweet with a slightly crackley biscuit base that I think may have been made with coconut oil.
A lovely little sustainable cafe with friendly staff and a relaxed vibe. The food is healthy and you can rest assured that you are supporting local businesses and organic produce. While the kids are biting into the fresh organic fare you can teach them a little about sustainability and I’m sure they will love the dear little caramel slices.
So my day certainly felt a little sweeter after an enjoyable cafe experience but the swimming situation still irks me. Has your child ever missed out on an activity due to his age or some other rigid policy?