"If you are truly passionate about something, then there is no other way to live than pursuing and growing while fully engaged in your love." https://www.youtube.com/user/readwelllivebetter
Published August 6th 2013
Local favourite, possibly because it's not a ferry ride away
Having lived off canned tuna and stew and sadness for two days in the Royal National Park, we decided to go into town so we could purchase some firelighters, so we wouldn't have to eat our two minute noodles raw. I think we'd be going after birds if we ever got to that point.
We were within walking distance of Bundeena, the way you might be within walking distance of your backyard. Having not eaten off a plate for two days and wearing unwashed camping gear we could have been mistaken for the homeless or potentially refugees, but this is testament to the difficulty of our conditions which forced our journey and thankfully no one was lost, though it was a close thing. At one point I got really tired and wanted to sit down but I managed to make it to the local IGA.
Hand painted signs and tin roofs. You just don't see them anymore.
Stocked up on more supplies than an African village and now looking more like refugees than ever, we decided to grab a late lunch at the bustling Passionfruit Café. The location is excellent. It overlooks a hill that slopes into a playground that leads to the wharf and beach.
Locals seem to come and go. Kids drop off their bikes at the entrance, chatting between orders. T-shirt clad couples lean on wooden tables and brush off the heat. The store owners greet and laugh with the customers.
They seemed to know almost everyone, so the café was never silent. Quiet conversation hummed under the footsteps that scraped the rich aroma around wooden chairs and well worn tables.
The burgers are slabs of meat and bread buried in crunchy salad and slathered in butter. There's a huge amount of choice in burgers. These range from the classic beef on a bun that can be upgraded to be packed with bacon, egg and cheese that all remind me of barbeques at school sporting days, all bulging from a paper carton. The patties are thick and greasy and entirely filling, layered with crunchy salad and the whole thing has to be clamped together just to take a bite, which takes minutes to chew though all the ingredients.
If you use your imagination it looks like the face of a frog. Or a burger.
The chips are thick, olden style battered potato fingers. The sausage roll was as big as the burgers, a chunk of filling wrapped by crispy pastry. The menu offers a zoo of choices such as quiches, all day breakfasts, pies, sandwiches, all of it hearty café food.
Odds are you know what chips look like. But there's no guarantees in life.
Everything seemed supersized. The thick shakes in particular are more ice cream than drink, the breakfast and lunch dishes were packed large. It was local and large and on the beach, it wasn't dressed up or decorated and neither was the food. It was benches and tin roofs, pushing out blocks of meat and bread and fish and salad to talkative locals.