I stumbled across this hidden gem a good chunk of a while back now, back during the summer holidays, which was God knows how many weeks ago. However the last time I went, I only had a swig of bitter Ethiopian iced brew; the sort which stings a little on the tip of your tongue, before running its way down all throughout your system, jolting your nerves, almost harassing them.

This time, I went in for an actual bite. A nibble, a dig if you will. I craved the same darling nook I visited 5 weeks ago, and so Group Therapy it was. Just that this time it was solo therapy, which was just as good, and in fact probably better. The place opens at 11am, and when I arrived at 11.13, the best window seats were already occupied. I choked down my disappointment and hobbled over to the back area, where there are lovely high metal chairs which are actually rather light when you have to physically pull them out and plonk your bottom on one.

Let’s talk coffee. I wasn’t so much as excited for the latte as I was for the brew, mostly because I almost never order milky coffees since they make me a tad nauseous afterward and I’m always in need for something refreshing to envelope my throat with.  But I did anyway because I live on the edge. This piccolo was done with master professionalism, despite the obvious lack of caffeine concentration. At $4.50, it was decent pay.

Apologies for the blur first shot of those beautifully cooked sunny side-ups. I was torn between this and the poached eggs and hollandaise with smoked salmon on thick toast option (gosh that’s a mouthful), but I went with this instead, because I was curious to see how they would incorporate the mashed avocado into the rest of the dish, which is practically an eggs benedict with the eggs fried and not poached, sans the creamy yellow blanket of snow on top. To my initial disappointment, I realised they did not include small chunks of avocado, or slathered moist clumps of the stuff like a rotund bed of pale moss under the eggs, but literally smoothed the mash across like peanut butter on toast. Luckily for me, the helping was generous enough to seep through the airy pockets in the thick white toast, which was bordered with a most appealing brown yet forgiving crust all the way round. That crust. The seeping made each bite a partial swarm of green, offering a light earthiness and opaque moisture to the salty ham. I only found fault with the portion size and thickness of the crust, which was at least 2 inches in width. Eating this one dish meant pulling up your sleeves and stabbing the belly multiple times before making it possible to get down to the  very bottom. which was quite an unnecessary hassle at times. They should either have thinner toast for maximum flavour impact or cut it into two for better handling. All that cutting and tugging made for a slightly inconvenient ordeal.

Overall, it was a good meal, even if that meant not finishing it. Pities of the world. It would also be nicer if the waitresses wouldn’t constantly look from a distance at the customers, standing and observing, twitching themselves whenever I moved. The coffee is not bad and the fare slightly above expectations, albeit nothing really special. They have a chilli crab tart here as well, which doesn’t look half bad. Promises lie in such hearty packages.

Rating: 4.3/ 5

Group Therapy Café

49 Duxton Road