Brunch / ££ / 9/10

Me and The Northerner had a free weekend, no plans = bliss. Well except the nearly one year old who won’t be held, but can’t yet walk. Having dropped down to one nap we decided to ‘make the most of the morning’ and headed to a country park before going to town for brunch. I have read a couple of reviews of this place, all glowing but being in town it is quite high risk with a baby. Will it have room/tolerance for a toddler? Be serving a bottomless brunch and be full of hammered people? High chairs? A free table as we didnt book? Fortune favours the brave.

The corner of Friar Lane and Maid Marian Way it isn’t the most beautiful location, but the cafe was filled with light when we arrived and there was only two other tables occupied. As we entered through the door we picked up the high chair and headed to the back of the cafe to 1 of 3 unreserved tables. It was 09.50 and 20 minutes later all the tables were filled and walk ins were being turned away. We felt ‘lucky’, a good way to start any meal, there are benefits of having a tiny human that makes 10.00 feel like midday.

We decided to go for a 2 course brunch with a savoury course, followed with French Toast to share. The Northerner ordered at the counter and headed back with a pastry for the baby, she started tucking in and the timer began on how long we could keep her happy and whether our luck would run out before our food was finished. Both savoury dishes came out before the croissant was finished. The Northerner ordered the Lilac Muffin with a side of hash browns (with cheese sauce). The muffin was magnificent and the sausage patty, bacon, cheese sauce and hash brown all stood separately with each mouthful, they weren’t ‘muddy’. The extra side of hash browns really showed the quality of what was being served though, they were as good as the hash brown snack we had at Alchemilla earlier in the month. Buttery, light, crisp with no hint of sogginess. The parmesan and chive garnish ramped up the richness with onion to cut through so nothing became cloying.

My Salmon Toast was a beautiful plate of food. It looked like it had been constructed with love and tasted like it too. I wished there was a little more acidity after the first bite and then remembered the salad on the side was dressed in lemon. After piling it onto the toast it was perfectly balanced (albeit not quite as pretty). I stole a cucumber baton to give to the baby as she reached the end of her pastry.

I was looking forward to the french toast pudding as we watched more people arrive and leave without the experience we had just enjoyed. 5 minutes passed, then 10, 15, 20. The cafe was busy but the staff were making things look harder than they needed to be. We had to move all our plates to the very far edge of the table out of reach of the baby and every time someone that worked there walked past empty handed I remember my first boss shouting at me ‘Why aren’t you carrying anything? Your hands should always be full’. I mean there was no need to shout but, why weren’t they clearing our table? A feeling of dread crept in as the baby started to lose her shit. ‘Did you ask them to bring the french toast after the other meals?’ I asked the Northerner ‘yes’ he replied and my heart sank. As our plates were finally collected we asked about the French Toast and were told it was on it’s way. By this time the baby was on my lap banging a spoon on the table. I slid my hand between the spoon and the table to make the noise fractionally less annoying. 10 minutes of toys, stories, a bit of singing and a spilt water glass later the french toast came. We thought The Northerner might need to bail with the baby before it arrived but in the nick of time we both tucked in at break neck speed.

The toast ‘stack’ was multiple slices enveloped in egg with crispy edges and a soft warm middle. This dish is definitely not for the faint-hearted but even The Northerner (not usually a fan of sweet things) declared it delicious. The light spicing of cinnamon and very rich toffee sauce were indulgent, but the cold mascarpone relaxed the dish and meant each mouthful never tipped into sickly. I passed a strawberry to the baby as The Northerner strapped her into the buggy and wolfed the last of it down. A mum friend recently asked me for a recommendation in the city centre for brunch and I wish I had told her to try here, it was the best brunch I have ever had in the city.

The ‘1 off’ 10 score purely reflects the service, not the food. I often find myself wondering why good places employ people who are more beautiful than competant, more cool than courteous, more chill than helpful. I don’t expect special treatment but would have appreciated just a little more service. If servers can get all the empty plates/potential missiles cleared away, as a parent I promise I won’t leave the place looking like a food war has happened. There just might be a few more serviettes to throw away though.