A couple of weekends ago, our little apartment (and I mean little, a.k.a one bedroom) was overwhelmingly messy. Anyone who has lived in a small apartment will understand this dilemma. With a lack of storage space, things pile up pretty easily and before you know it, you’re living in junk yard – albeit a homely junk yard. Harry Potter fans will understand when I say it somewhat affectionately resembled the Room of Requirement.
Rather than slave away tirelessly cleaning, we decided to make a run for it and spend the day out and about. We hopped from café to café, one of my favourite past-times, and finally got around to checking out some local Japanese and Indian grocery stores, where we stocked up on noodles and spices. We also went to a couple of open house inspections – possibly driven by a sudden desire to permanently vacate our less-than-humble abode (sans the clean-up duty) and inhabit another.
Lunch involved a fun Pho date with my parents, and playing at Springvale market – markets are my favourite playground. Sauntering along the vibrantly coloured fruits, super fresh seafood and exotic, gelatinous sweets provided much entertainment.
Once dinner time rolled around, possibly fuelled by hunger, we felt strong enough to enter the junk yard. Our rumbling tummies informed us that we wanted Indian take-out. Naturally, we obliged. After picking up a Vindaloo, Byriani and some Roti, we bravely headed inside. Our strategy was to confine ourselves to the least messy room and stay there. And so, we barracaded ourselves in the bedroom. We made a little cubby out of a sheet, which is something I have liked to do since I was a child, and cozied up on our bed, eating curry and watching Iron Man 2 on the computer. Quite the fun night in. If our apartment were clean, we would have probably eaten on the couch like normal people, what fun is that?!
Come Sunday morning, however, the sun shone brightly through the blinds, taunting us with it’s UV spotlight as it highlighted our messy home (which was now even more messy thanks to my ingenious idea of tying a sheet to four corners of the room with rope to make said cubby). Our solution was to own up to our messiness and get to work – tidying, dusting, vacuuming and scrubbing. Ok, no, that is completely untrue. Our solution was to get the hell out of there, again!
Our tummies were grumbling once more, they tend to do that a lot, and my mind wandered to a Greek inspired eatery I had been wanting to visit. I jumped with excitement and hungry anticipation as I recalled a review in the Age of this café that serves what can only be described as the Holy Grail of sweet breakfasts. Brace yourselves…the dish I speak of… is Backlava French Toast *pause for gasps*. And so, as though we were Bonnie and Clyde fleeing the Clean Apartment Police, we made the Pilgrimage to this Holy Place in Richmond, Demitri’s Feast.
You cannot make reservations at this cute little spot, yet we only had to wait a minute or so before being seated on this a busy Sunday during Brunch O’Clock. We were led to our bright red table and perched on used Greek produce tins that had been converted to seats. The atmosphere was relaxed, and we found ourselves happily immersed in this cheerful little corner, eyeing off all the Greek-infused touches adorning the walls and benches (including some delightful looking Kourabiedes).
Although I knew what I was going to order, I browsed the menu picking out what to have next visit – I was certain there would be one. The friendly staff served us lovely coffee, and the food came soon afterwards. Dare I say I would have liked service to be a little slower, in order to spend even more time with Ben at this great little café, reminiscing about our times together in Greece *sigh* and indulging in what can only be described as, the Holy Grail of Sweet Breakfasts *double sigh*…
Thick slices of French Toast, scattered with crushed walnuts, topped with thick Greek yoghurt and drizzled with orange honey syrup…
It was everything you would imagine it to be. The yoghurt was a lovely addition, and the orange honey syrup was incredible. After some research, I found out the bread was Tsoureki – a sweet, brioche-like Greek bread.
Ben ordered eggs with spinach, salmon and dill. He didn’t feel like a sweet breakfast. Weirdo. He did, however, happily finished my plate. Ben rated his eggs, especially the salmon with dill, although his breakfast was decidedly less attractive to photograph (the lighting was not great for photography in general).
Ben also got a Spanakopita to take away for dinner later that week. I was away for work, so I missed out. It was apparently delicious, though he prefered Hellenic Republic’s Spanakopita. I guess I’ll have to try it myself and see. Although not next visit, first I need to try the Semolina Pancakes with rose jam, pistachios, Greek yoghurt and orange honey syrup. Can there be two Holy Grails?…