Picture yourself at a friend’s party: you’re one of four people under the age of 50, trying to make small talk and find some point of connection. You’re already feeling anxious because you’ve exhausted your usual get-to-know-you questions in the first ten minutes during canapes and drinks, and you’ve come up dry as far as connection goes. Now you’ve been seated at a table with the same four people – a married couple across from you, and the only other unattached person at the party, Guy A, next to you. You can sense their anxiety, too – their usual repertoire has evidently been used up as well. (Doh.) The food comes out, and its quality gives some respite to the conversation, even inspiring some other food-related conversation. The entree is complete; the awkward pause before mains ensues. Guy A offers a brave attempt at a new conversation starter:
Guy A: “So what do you think your favourite food would be?”
Me: “Hmmm.” (thinks). “Porridge.” (thinks again). “Yep, definitely porridge.”
(Awkward pause. Uh oh).
Guy A: “Porridge…? Um, yeah… I guess so….?”
Mel: “Well sure, of course! It just makes sense – it’s tasty, nutritious, you can make it in different flavours, it’s satisfying at any time of the day. Yep, if I could only eat one food ever again, it’d definitely be porridge.”
True story. If you cringed when you read my socially awkward attempt to redeem porridge from its reputation as a bland food and promote its benefits to Guy A, then multiply that cringe by like a thousand, and you’ll start to envisage the awkward cringe-smile that came across Guy A’s face while it dawned on him that he’d been sat next to an emphatically boring woman, and that any hopes of satisfying conversation for the rest of the evening had been undeniably dashed.
I’ve laughed over my social ineptness on display that night many times. Most especially because, if I were to find myself in that situation again, I imagine I’d say the same thing, and proceed to watch the awkward cringe spill out all over again. At other times, I’ve considered an alternative response:
“Pastry.”
Guy A’s reaction, I imagine, isn’t much prettier. But, all the same, if you can appreciate pastry in any way, then here are 3 stops in Brisbane you might like to venture to some weekend if you find yourself recovering from your awkward attempts at being social the night before:
1. Chouquette
19 Barker St, New Farm
http://www.chouquette.com.au/#about
Located on a side street off Brunswick St, about half way between the Valley and New Farm Park, this is my absolute favourite pastry hideout in Brisbane. Perfect for the coffee + mini-croissant morning tea stop in between work, as well as for catering for the picnic brunch in the park, Chouquette’s selection of pastry, quiches, breads, baguettes, macaroons and all things French are absolute gold. The staff all speak French, so if you feel like rehearsing your best “Je voudrais un cafe au lait, s’il vous plait” that you’ve been listening to on your “Teach Yourself French” podcast on the commute to and from work, then I’d recommend trying it out. If, however, you’re going on a Daddy-Daughter date and you have a Dad like mine, whose favourite Dad-joke is “How do you say ‘croissant’ in French?”, then I’d highly recommend opting for another option below.
2. Crust & Co. Artisan Baking
140 Edmonstone St, Newmarket
https://www.facebook.com/CrustandCo/
This is pretty much just like Chouquette, only bigger. Literally. Crust & Co is the baking warehouse home from which Chouquette sources all of its yummies. The quiches are bigger, the baguettes are longer, the danishes are piled higher. It’s a treat to behold. Often frequented by local patrons who drive past the chalkboard indicating the limited opening hours during the week (Fri – Sun, 6am – 12pm), here’s a tip for the non-local: you’ll put the address in your GPS, and keep driving past what seems like an abandoned red brick building many times. Eventually you’ll wonder where these people seem to be emerging from with their arms full of golden baguettes. And then. You’ll find a street park, venture down the right side of the building, and discover a simple screen door that leads you into the tastiest smelling warehouse space you’ll ever discover. Coffee orders available to your left inside the door (and in keeping it simple, 12oz available only).
3. Banneton @ Kelvin Grove Markets
Kelvin Grove Village Markets, 6am – 1pm, Saturday
http://www.banneton.com.au/index.php/find-us
If neither the Parisian cafe nor the oversized pastry warehouse is your thing, Banneton brings the best of Brisbane’s fresh pastry to you. In the relaxed haze of your Saturday morning market routine, follow the scent of scrumptious Turkish breads and pork sausage rolls baking in an outdoor oven, and you’ll find yourself at Banneton’s venture away from its usual Wooloongabba and Ashgrove residences. Personal favourites: plain/almond croissants, pains au chocolat, pumpkin scones, olive bread, and cheese and bacon scrolls. Saturday mornings done right.
I’m considering offering these pastry locales a suggestion that they should start serving porridge to complement their menu. They could really pull some numbers, I reckon.
thirty. 