Wiping the tears from my eyes, I saw The Bonbeach Cafe. From the outside, it looked a bit like a 90s seaside resort, with its bamboo shutters and blue render. But given the competition (almost none), it seemed a good option. And for the most part, it was.
Parking is limited. Parking is always limited on Beach Road, and if you’re lucky enough to find one you’ll have to fight a great cavalcade of cyclists for the right to reverse in.
It’s quite a nice place, The Bonbeach Cafe. It’s clean, though a little dark, and the chairs are comfortable. I sat by the window, so as to best capture the essence of the Frankston line, and ordered avocado, feta and grilled tomato on toast with poached eggs. They were fairly expensive, and at the time I thought “Gosh, that’s kind of expensive”, but it turns out that’s because the dish was served with all the feta in Denmark. Look at this great slab of feta. Someone failed to tell the kitchen that feta is very strong and a person probably doesn’t need 200 grams of it. This isn’t Feta Steak Week, as far as I know.
In some respects the food was kind of a deconstructed smashed avocado. Everything was bold and enormous and it was stacked a good ten inches high with a mighty stake driven through its centre. Mountains of rocket. A storm of pepper. A shoe of avocado. The feta just highlighted the sort of building block nature of it. It was all fairly tasty – the bread was especially good – but it seemed unfinished. There was simply too much cheese, so I ended up eating just a small corner of it, and the rocket overwhelmed me. The eggs were well cooked, but they were dwarfed by the rest of the dish. My brain struggled to take it all in at once.
On the whole, my quest for a brilliant spot in the Frankston/Skye/Carrum area continues, but this will suffice in the meantime.