"Because the perfect cup of coffee can be said as a mother's milk"...What the?! A Mothers Milk don’t do grammar, but they’re going to ace the test anyway – it’s all about attitude. Five staff are finger-snappingly efficient and super courteous, zapping around the front and back rooms of this Tardis-style terrace (not forgetting 'the Booth' – a converted broom cupboard seating three). But the hot seats are on the footpath outside, at packing-crate tables against the warm bricks in the sun (a super spot in winter). This kind of gutter-side improv is a common sight in high-density Darlinghurst, Brunswick or Fitzroy, but it's still a novelty in spacious, baby-boomer Unley.
The coffee here is as essential and sustaining as the stuff your Mama supplied – strictly no baby formula here, except, well, a formula for success. The main ingredient is 'single origin' coffee. The beans are chalked-up as ‘specials’ on the wall behind the counter. If you like it black (espresso, ristretto, etc), it'll be made with Kenyan Ngeri Kijiji. Anything milky (flat whites, lattes) will be sourced from Honduras…This week, anyway. Come regularly and you'll soon know your Ethiopian from your elbow.
If you’re here for food, there’s a basic but satisfying menu. Most items come with sourdough toast (there’s a sniff of ‘90s about this list – including the prices, happily). The rocket salad with blue cheese, walnut and pear is as green as an Unley wheelie bin; the prosciutto is generous and the vincotto sparingly sweet.
The standout for breakfast is the piping-hot ramekin of Almond Grove eggs baked with piquant napoletana sauce, fresh parsley and stretchy provolone. We're intrigued by the 'smashed' avocado and banana on the menu: what do they do, throw it across the kitchen onto the plate? Anyway, the avo with housemade dukkah (on sourdough) and the banana with honey, dates and crumbled pistachio are a tasty testament to some smashing work in the kitchen.
Afterwards, if you're tiring of the Red Hot Chilli Peppers soundtrack (...oh wait, didn't they have an album called Mother's Milk?), an exclusive cluster of seriously good baked goods awaits. Order up a fabulous orange friand, or a slice of rhubarb cake with fresh cream perhaps. With another coffee, of course. Columbian this time.