The grouse thing about The Lane (once you find it) is that it’s authentically retro. You can tell this place wasn’t decorated as ‘retro’, but instead actually is retro – like it was set up like this 40 years ago and just hasn’t changed. I love it. Love it like a brother. Everyone seems to know the names of everyone who walks in too. So I took it upon myself to blend in by waiting for the owner to greet people and quickly yelling out their names Turrets-style in the hope they would like me. Totally worked. Totally.
The owner looks like one of those cool chicks who went to Woodstock and protested against the war. I bet she has a tattoo of Jimmy Hendricks somewhere. I also felt a bit guilty for being such a modern cliché sell-out, what with all my deodorant and non-cheese cloth skirt. I apologised for my lack of social concern when I put my order in.
It seems like the owner (I think her name is Dee – see? I’m totally a local now!) isn’t just the owner, but also the barista, cook and waitress. So, because of that, don’t be in a hurry when you come here. This isn’t a place for speedy service. I mean, you could ask Dee to hurry, but my bet is she’ll clip you across the ear. And rightly so – I’d hide under one of the mangy old tables and live in this place if I could, so waiting half an hour for a meal is a delight. Sit back, relax, smoke a joint (don’t smoke a joint) and enjoy the time warp.
So cute. SO cute! Just like mum used to serve up food. Stacked onto a tiny, patterned plate with the toast all cut up. One day, when someone is stupid enough to marry me, I’m gonna put this china pattern on my gift registry knowing full well the only place people can buy it is at the Salvos on Carlisle Street, St Kilda. Suck on that, future wedding guests.
Ok, I admit it was over cooked. I could tell because it had brown bits in it where it had burned in the pan. But I didn’t care. I was still excited about the pattern on the plate.
To be honest it was pretty dry, but perfect for eating with your hands. You pay extra for it, but you get a decent amount. I wouldn’t be surprised if it were free range, either. Did I mention the pattern on the plate?
Awesome. Some kind of wholemeal bread that I would bet my one bedroom apartment with the dodgy shower head on came from a local bakery. It tasted great and was of course buttered. The crust was ah-maz-ing and I’m genuinely thinking about trading my boyfriend in for a loaf of that bread. He won’t mind. He was getting sick of me anyway.
$8.50 for scramble, $3.50 for eggs. I also got a freshly squeezed orange juice for $4.50. These are the prices you’d pay in the city where the eggs would probably be better, but honestly it’s such a novelty to come here that it’s worth it.
* Hi to Sanford, the massively massive American Staffie I met whilst trying to find my way to The Lane. And thanks for not eating me. ‘Hi’ and ‘sorry!’ to the lady I may or may not have nudged with my car (people tend to jump out from behind trees in Eltham). And finally ‘hi’ to the Curves sales lady who followed me down the street in the hopes that I would sign up for a membership. Totes would** if Eltham wasn’t an hour drive from my house.
** totes wouldn’t.