This
weekend I took an excursion into the hinterlands of the Unknown, to a place so
far towards the edge of the Map that it barely registers on the everyday
consciousness. This was not a fit of madness or the exploration of a
geographical curiosity; it was, in fact, a quest for coffee. Friends had
contacted me to say that they had discovered a “Steampunk cafe” in Toongabbie.
My response to the idea of a cafe with neo-Victoriana trimmings was “cool!”;
the notion of such a confection located in Toongabbie was met with a “what
the...?”. So, an adventure was planned.
Those
of you who know Sydney, know that there’s a definite divide between the East
and the West. The Western Suburbs are generally tagged with the mark of the
low-brow, the Land of the Bogans. This is a gross generalisation, and somewhat
unfair given the cost of living that constantly drives people out of the East
but, as they say, there’s no smoke without fire, and the environs of Parramatta
have rarely been known as a cultural hub. The further suburbs of Sydney cannot
be said to be beautiful, despite the (sometimes questionable) efforts of local
councils, and Toongabbie is not a pretty place. It is industrial, flat and
slowly filling up with the overblown pre-fab mansions that are the hallmark of
residents who are overly concerned with conspicuous consumption and not at all with
taste.
We
had a little trouble finding The Blend, after arriving at our co-ordinates via
a Kiwi-toned GPS guide, and realised that it was due to the fact that the front
of the cafe is flat brown: the awning overhead has a proud letter ‘B’
displayed, however, since it is the same colour as the entire facade it doesn’t
really leap out and grab your attention. As it was, we literally stumbled onto
the joint almost by accident, whilst trying to correlate the info provided by
Google Maps with our own sensory input.
Of
course, prior to embarking on our journey, we had taken the precaution of
researching our quarry. The Facebook page and website associated with The Blend
showed a fair degree of sophistication and warmth; we were speedily assured
that our destination would be pleasant and accommodating, as indicated by the
lavish photography. However, ‘teh Interwebz’ can be a little deceptive, as we
all know, and we were about to have another lesson in this regard:
The
place is the size of a postage stamp. I kid you not. The photos I’ve included
here are those from their Facebook page and they give the impression that the cafe
is much bigger than it actually is. These shots are obviously from early days:
there is a whole lot more clutter now, and fewer actual seats. It’s amazing
what some creative photography can do.
We
arrived at about 11.00 in the morning and the joint was jumping. Outside were
almost a dozen filled seats under umbrellas, allowing diners a sumptuous view
of the urban banality that is Portico Parade, Toongabbie; inside was a single
booth (occupied) and two tables (occupied) as well as a bar along the wall
running towards the service area which, if occupied, would have created a fire
hazard. Standing there, trying to work out if we were, after all, in the right
place, we pretty much accounted for the balance of the available space within.
Two girls at one of the tables decided that, having finished their brunch, they
were simply restricting commerce, and so obligingly exited: we didn’t have to
wait too long for a seat on this occasion, but I’m sure it must often get
tricky.
I
call it a “table”; it was actually two small side tables bracketed by an old
train carriage seat against the wall, with a renovated loveseat opposite. The
arrangement made up in charm what it lacked in utility, but it wasn’t
uncomfortable. My reservations would have been greater if I had chosen to eat
something: this wasn’t a situation that would have worked if cutlery and plates
had been thrown into the mix, but negotiating a cup of coffee was no problem.
Scanning the place, it seemed that the other table was the only one which would
have comfortably accommodated dining, and the grotesquely obese customer seated
there certainly seemed to be having no trouble getting outside his early lunch.
The
decor strives to be as Steampunk as possible and largely succeeds in this
regard. Greg Bridges, the owner/operator, is widely known as an illustrator and
did the concept art for the third Narnia
movie, “The Voyage of the Dawn Treader”.
His oil canvases adorn the walls in heavy gold frames and they are truly
amazing and intricate. The rest of the place feels very sepia-toned (probably
due to the glass-panelled door hanging from the ceiling to hide the ugly neon
light fixture) and there’s a definite neo-Victorian élan at work. It does feel a little low-key however, as if they’re
trying to hint at Steampunk without actually
coming out and saying it. While we soaked up the atmos., Greg came over for a
chat and we encouraged him in his decorative ambitions; responding to our
enthusiasm, he broke out his prescription-lensed goggles for us to see, thus
proving his Steampunk credentials.
Ultimately
though, as Greg says on his business card, it’s all about the coffee. I’d had a
reasonable cup of joe earlier in the day that had barely touched the sides; I
was seriously looking forward to what The Blend had to offer.
There
were two blends available: the house bean is a concoction entitled “Dark
Angel”; it comes in a black bag with an acid-green label. I had one cup of this
and it almost blew the top of my head off. It’s rich and dark and, as the label
says, “high powered”. I’m no coffee slouch, but it usually takes a few more
cups than that to make me feel that way. This coffee stands up in the porcelain
and says “I’m a real coffee! You better be sitting down!”; it also says, “I’m
coming home with you!”, and that’s exactly what happened.
The
other blend on offer is the “Bright Angel”, a fusion no less flavoursome but
with far less caffeine. It’s warm and rich and perfect for those out there who
like to adulterate their addiction with milk.
The
space limitations really affect the service of food: signs attest to the fact
that The Blend does most of its trade in the form of take-away orders for lunch
and breakfast. My co-explorers tasted the cakes on offer and deemed them
excellent – they certainly looked appetizing, as did the feast that the
man-mountain in the corner was wolfing down. Greg did mention that there was a
possibility of expanding and this will serve to improve the venue immensely.
If
– for any bizarre reason – you find yourself in this backwater part of Nowhere,
check out The Blend; it’s a little caffeine oasis in the midst of a whole bunch
of nothing, and with a snazzy style. If coffee is where your world starts and
ends, this is a fun little excursion to make and the Angels are well worth the
effort. I’m glad I went, but I think I’ll be waiting for the expansion to
happen before I head back.
The Blend
17 Portico
Parade, Toongabbie NSW
0451 994 265
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