Each Peach
| Where | 506 Lygon Street, Brunswick, 3056—View map |
Contact | 03 9383 4529 eachpeach@bigpond.com |
Website | — |
Open | Breakfast Wednesday to Monday 9:00am-4:00pm (closed Tuesdays) |
Payment | Cash |
Diet | Check with venue |
Seating | Inside and outside |
Kids | Welcome |
Pets | Welcome |
That Nourishing Craft
Antonia Pont 23 October 2008
Do you remember when the word 'craft' meant bits of foam stuffed into stockings, then crammed into jars and called 'Pickled People'? But then do you remember going to Craft Victoria and discovering that there, the word 'craft' meant art that you can use, beauty that you may wear on your body, or leave in your kitchen or give to your kids? And then do you remember when 'craft' broadened again to mean something that you do because you simply must - out of love, out of passion, commitment and impulse - and something that grows and grows over time to the point where it can't be assigned an economic value?
In France, there is the tradition of the artisan. To me this means a profession that is more akin to a life path, a choice deep in the body, something you probably do make a living from, but something that you would do anyway, even if nobody paid you.
Well, this kind of 'craft' is going on right up the north end of Lygon Street, where writer, chef, mother and generally brilliant woman, Helen Addison-Smith, has opened a small haven by the name of Each Peach. The very title makes me think of squishy vanilla orbs from the Vic Market in summer. The philosophy of process, care and patience is palpable in every nook and corner. Waiters don't attack you as you arrive, rather you take a seat in your own time, just like in your kitchen at home, and you remove yourself from a certain rhythm of chaos to snuggle into another kind of time. My friend and I took ages to decide what we wanted, since reading the menu was nourishing in itself. It seemed too early in the day (pity!) for the Brunswick Backyard lemonade for $3, or Helen's home-made ginger beer. I almost considered having a strawberry or chocolate milkshake with home-made ice-cream, but opted instead for a large shared pot of tea with my friend. It came with that special kind of pastel crockery, from the fifties maybe - pale yellow and blue - and the tiny spoons made me squeal. The pot was topped up generously while we ate.
And did we eat! My scrambled eggs were the colour that only happy, roaming chooks can produce, with asparagus spears and a crumbling of bitey parmesan on top. My friend adored her mushrooms on toast with kefalotyri ( a sheep's cheese) and fresh greens. The woman opposite us looked enamoured with her serving of waffles with banana, maple syrup and home-made ice-cream. And if only our stomachs were more evolved, I'm sure we would have eaten one of the home-made sausage rolls, a serving of gravalax, or the simple toast with home-made apple and fig jam. Meats here are all free-range or organic, and please forgive my repetition of the term 'home-made', but in these times of convenience, it is rare to find a place that literally makes everything on site (except the bread, as Helen will point out, but it is Zeally Bay, and it's hardly worth trying to improve on that!). My friend said the coffee was great, and I finished off the meal with an EP specialty: caffeine-free white chai, a drink made from a mixture of chai herbs, cooked and cooked, but without the tea added. It was delicious.
Since one always has room for dessert, we accompanied our hot drinks with a selection from the cakes and biscuits, but choosing was challenging. Quince ripples; hazelnut espresso cake; choc-chunk biscuits; organic strawberry friands; chocolate macaroons; bite-a-kangaroo biscuits; walnut raison jumbles; Greek custard slice; hazelnut shortbreads; baby lemon tarts. Need I say more, or again: home-made, hand-made - neither symmetrical nor standardised, but made in the oven that you can see from your table.
Breakfasts range from $6-12. Sweets from $2-5. Coffee $3. Soy milk is Bonsoy. All ice creams are handmade and organic, with up to 5-7 flavours on offer.
There is a blackboard for doodling in the bathrooms, there is a window seat full of cushions and toys for smaller humans, there is great music, there are cookbooks near the open-fire place in the back-room. There is an enormous patchwork, quilted wall hanging made out of Aussie Tea Towels. There is light. And, as I went to pay, I saw that there was a pile of books of Andy Goldsworthy's art nestled in among the (home-made) preserved lemons and fresh loaves of bread.
Go today. Eat something that will feed more than your belly. Rethink your life and, if you like, knit while you do it.