Refuge From The Maladies Of The Modern World
Sydney Morning Herald
Tuesday December 2, 1997
BURNIE Street, Clovelly, is still on a 1920s seaside holiday. Especially in summer when couples amble past old shop-front cafes and corner stores to the beach. The junk shop on the corner of Burnie Street and Clifton Road is gone now. It's all ladders and rollers and new, white paint - soon to be, of all things, a film company. It's hard to picture the place bustling with camera folk and directors and actors waiting for screen tests, much like the cafe strip at too-busy Bronte, just a headland away.
No high-rise here. The street is lined with two-storey, '20s retail/residences backing onto neat rows of '20s bungalows with frangipani and hibiscus
bushes at the gates to neat, grassy yards.
On summer weekends, Burnie Street comes alive with families and brown-skinned, long-limbed couples trooping down to Clovelly's sheltered beach, but on weekdays the street is reclaimed by locals who lean against lampposts chatting or linger over morning coffee in one of their two neighbourhood cafes.
From the footpath tables at the Burnie Street Deli there's a view up the hill to the cemetery where monumental turn-of-the-century tombstones glare white in the sun.
A pair of local artists sit in the deli window, swapping news with the owner/manager, Mark Prince, and sharing a tuna cake (because it's Clovelly, it's more rissole than fish cake) served with a big, leafy salad. A refrigerated cabinet at the back of the room displays a round of King Island Roaring Forties Blue, an earthenware bowl piled high with creamy potato salad, dishes of newly grilled and cured antipasto and a tall, dark chocolate cake.
The cake, which comes in generous chunks, is vegan but idiosyncratically served with cream. Somehow, its
creator (a baker called Little Deaths) has avoided the mudbrick-like quality favoured by bakers of vegan desserts. This cake is moist and nutty, with a rich topping of chocolate and hazelnuts.
On weekends, locals and daytrippers sit under big, white umbrellas on the pavement or at little wooden tables and chairs indoors for big breakfasts of free-range eggs and oven-roasted tomatoes or Middle Eastern-spiced fruit served with muesli and yogurt and long glasses of freshly squeezed juice.
Across the street, Philippa White leans against the window bench in her Direction of Cure cafe to chat to a local mum and her tribe on the way to the beach. Cure is the new kid on the Burnie Street block but, at just three months old, it's already an institution.
My friend Lois is occasionally overwhelmed by the burden of life as a writer without an independent income in a world cast adrift by the airport novel. At such times, she often calls and suggests a walk along the cliffs and afternoon tea at Direction of Cure.
Modern girls' remedies dished up by an ever cheery, sympathetic White include good Lavazza coffee, slabs of chocolate fudge, a glass cabinet full of shortbreads, tarts and cookies, restorative Husk herbal teas and an impressive array of homeopathic remedies.
The absence of blonde wood and stainless steel is also soothing. White has decked out her cafe with cosy, cushioned benches and sunny splashes of colour. Another comforting thought is that breakfast (Victoire baguettes and sourdough toast or muesli served with stewed fruit and sheep's yogurt) is available all day.
At lunch, baguettes are piled high with sweet potato, rocket, new dried tomatoes and a drizzle of truffle oil. Ricotta, basil and olive tarts sit beside pretty salads on big, white plates. And all that ails a modern girl is cast out by the sight of half a dozen oat cakes served with smelly, crumbly slices of Mersey cheese. It's foolproof, really.
Burnie Street Deli, 34 Burnie Street, Clovelly, 9315 8825. Open Mon-Fri 10am-6pm, Sat-Sun 8am-6pm. Direction of Cure, 23a Burnie Street, Clovelly, 9665 5244. Open Thur-Sun 7am-6pm.
© 1997 Sydney Morning Herald
