Landreth & Co.

272 Ponsonby Rd

After a record work-obligated separation, & after a not too early but still disrespectful airport uplift, we had had our hearts set on The T.B.C. (stand-by for review soon), but a TradeMe appointment meant kai time was constrained, so we decided to go local.

Our uncharacteristic AM appearance at the coffee shop landed us smack-bang in what I learned is known as 'Family Power Hour'. Turns out Macca was filming an episode of the upcoming series of How The Other Half Lives at one of the outside tables - "This guy's eating here?!"

We took a table in the courtyard, whose assorted heaters and shady orientation meant it was simultaneously too hot and too cold. We hadn't been back to L&Co. for a wee while. I noticed there's been some sort of re-jigging, with new bar seating to one side, new format menus and free wifi. This was immediate cause for concern, especially the wifi. Perhaps they plan to become an Esquires gradually enough that nobody will actually notice. I come to the Cafe for, well, cafe, not internet. Stick to your knitting. Orcon's never offered to make me a complimentary macchiato. Leafing through the familiar menus was somewhat reassuring...

We ordered twin lattes, which arrived promptly enough and were of a high standard.

I ordered the Big Breakfast: Bacon, Sausage, Mushies, Roast Toms, Dill Potatoes, Toast & what were described on the menu as, and I quote, "Poached" Eggs. When it landed it looked appetizing enough, but it was all downhill from there. 
I attempted to spread a rock hard cube of butter on to a piece of the Ciabatta toast. Anyone who's attempted this with even mildly firm butter will know it is an exercise in futility and frustration. After puncturing the Eggs (Note: no table pepper grinders. Are grinders really that much of an investment? Do kleptomaniac Ponsonby-nese lift them from hapless eateries on the reg? Do I have to direct some shabby Bauxgan where & how much? What if I decide I want more? ) the yolks began to run all over my plate at an alarming rate. I did my best to absorb the watery yellow mess with aforementioned toast, but to no avail. Toasted Ciabatta is about as good for mopping up stuff as it is at taking firm beurre. Granted, it takes some amount of skill of the "cook" to present what at first impression looks like a perfectly poached egg, yet keeping the yolk completely raw. No mean feat.

B opted for the Eggs Benny. This came with the usual suspects as well as cress, (which I love, but B can't abide) too much bacon and two more non-mean feats. In its defense, the Hollandaise was reportedly pretty good; "but if you're reaching for the HP sauce, it's probably an indication that it's not the best Benny you've ever had".

I left a good amount of mine uneaten, and we shuffled to the counter to cough-up. The girl looked at me, looked at her colleague, looked at me again, looked back at her mate, without saying anything. Girl Two came over and actually acknowledged me, before I had a chance to make some sarchastic wise-crack, but then attempted to charge us for a Soy Flat White that we hadn't ordered; "so now I'm a cheapskate and a vegan, apparently..."

Bottom line: this place has fallen off. We'd lauded these guys in a previous post, but places change, and now we're not so sure. They need to spend less time worrying about hotspots and think more about hot plates. Could do better. Miss.

Reviewed by A.