In the southern suburbs of Sydney, hidden amid the clutter and humdrum of malls and shopping centres, lies a trove, a haven for the common cafe zealot.
I stumbled upon
The Jack of Harts and Jude by pure accident and at first was perplexed. Here sat a coffee shop that could easily take residence amongst the slew of trendy cafes in Surry Hills or Darlinghurst. Pure kitsch, this unfortunately small cafe resembles more a snug home then a cafe, with a collection of nostalgic and personal items dotting the space.
Image courtesy of The Jack of Harts and Jude Facebook Profile
I quickly sat myself down at the only table available and flipped through the delicious collection of magazines before I was greeted by the incredibly friendly staff.
I can easily say that the only downfall to this little treasure is the lack of staff and space. Which seems a catch 22 in its self. Orders back up quickly here as the blush faced barista tries eagerly to stay ahead. But obviously the charm of this place isn't lost on people and many clutter the entrance, braving the wait.
I order the French toast with vanilla bean ice-cream and pecans, and when it does eventually arrive, I soon realise no one in culinary history has perfected French toast properly until this moment. Luscious and ambrosial, the sticky and moist sauce that bathes the toast is incredible. Completely moreish, I soon forget I'm in public and become lost in this scrumptious dish - it gets a tad embarrassing.
And fear not, the coffee was just as enjoyable, especially in the darling mug that's as flowery and giving as your grannie. So although maybe a little pricey and perhaps a tad small, The Jack of Harts and Jude is like any rapturous relationship; you want to make up quickly and enjoy the spoils.
