Melbourne Coffee Sucks

This is your instant correspondent with a report on international coffee drinking trends. It’s not clear exactly which nation International Roast comes from, but with a name like that I’m sure it’s very cosmopolitan.

Well, this was an interesting one. Where to start?

“Briki” is a relatively recently re-opened café near Thornbury Station, at the old location of The Brickie & The Barista. I’ve often cycled past it, and it’s quite conveniently located on my way to work, so I felt I really had to try it some time. Also, while I’d never been to the predecessor Brickie & Barista, I had been told it was very good.

Fair warning: if you don’t like rants, you won’t like this one.

A week or so ago we were driving around in country Victoria, trying to escape the cubicle farm rat race that has become our destiny. On our way we stayed in a charming little town called Omeo, that had a bit of a ski-holiday-town-without-skiers feel to it.

The hotel we stayed at, the Golden Age Motel no less, had instant coffee and water, presumably for the horses. They’d evidently forgotten about the human guests. So, the tone had clearly been set.

Millennials are spending too much money on coffee. It’s proven that this is the reason why they’re locked out of the housing market – young people are frittering away the wages benevolently bestowed by their employers on frivolous and unnecessary caffeinated drinks.

The solution: International Roast. This smooth, mild-tasting, coffee-based beverage was once a stalwart of kitchens and office tea rooms the country over. Is it just a coincidence that as the proportion of Australians under 35 owning their own homes has crashed to record-low levels, so too has the popularity of this humble and budget-conscious drink? For the price of three fancy espressos from your local bearded barista, you could instead buy a half-kilo tin of International Roast containing 333 frugal serves. Your coffee dollar goes 100 times further, and that house deposit will save itself in no time.

Today I finally received my copy of the Drift magazine, volume 5 (the site seemed unreachable at the time of writing this post, so here’s an Archive.org link). This edition covered Melbourne, so naturally, I had to have it.

By the authors’ own description, “Drift is a print magazine devoted to coffee culture. Each issue takes us to a different city across the globe, as our writers and photographers dive into what makes a city’s coffee scene tick.” It’s a super glossy and hip magazine apparently aimed at design students, but I found the articles to be surprisingly down to earth. Don’t judge a coffee magazine by its typography, I guess. Go buy it.

I just got back from a jaunt to Brisbane, for reasons which I won’t bore you with right now. When we headed there, Melbourne was characteristically miserable and cold, making us all the more enthusiastic about the break in the north.

Like good hipsters we stayed in the West End, the nearest café to our place being The Gunshop Café of South Brisbane. Right on our street, in fact.

After what must’ve been a particularly heavy bender on Friday night (I distinctly remember something about greyhounds and at least one schooner of beer) I woke up on Saturday morning to the sound of cows bellowing and chickens crowing. The occasional tractor chugged by, and a farmer swore as she tripped over a rake left carelessly in the middle of the dirt track. Clearly, I was in the middle of nowhere.

However, as it turns out, even in these remote parts (north of Bell St, to be precise), decent coffee is available!

Another dollar, another day. At least, that’s what an American colleague used to always say to me. Basically it was meant as a wry way of saying, “wow, my life is really meaningless, I’d totally rip off my shirt & tie if I had the fuck-you money to be able to retire right now.” I guess going to a 9–5 job every day of your life is a little bit like that.

Why, you might ask, am I ranting about boring office jobs, when you, my beautiful and exceedingly intelligent readers, are waiting for the latest low-down in espresso news?

Well, we’re back from our Launceston jaunt, and we’re all full of art, music, good food, nature, and of course tasty espresso! In the past few days I’ve had the privilege of being able to swan about in a beautiful area I hadn’t visited before, tasting delectable things and sampling interesting brews. Read on for the down-low on this Tasmanian town!

On our last day in Launceston we found this little gem: Prince’s Square. Same coffee as they use at Bryher, from Provenance roasters. Because we’re self-absorbed Melbourne hipsters, they get bonus points because they were playing the In Time album by Melbourne band Time for Dreams when we walked in, which is currently one of my favourites.

The café was bright and modern-looking, the coffee was well-made, the dude at the bar was friendly — really no complaints. And yes, just like before, the Provenance coffee was very tasty. Would visit again.

And after the coffee you can cross the street and go and lie in the grass at the park. More bonus points.