I live clear on the other side of the planet from my mother. My boyfriend’s mother lives on the other side of the country. So on mothers day, the last thing on my mind was that people might be out and about treating their mothers to breakfasts and brunches (and flowers, walking down Brunswick Street I could barely squeeze past the queue at the flower shop).
So I was dismayed when it started to look like my brunch date with some out-of-town friends might not be possible, as there might not be any free tables at any café all along Brunswick street.
But luckily we found Mario’s, and the man himself had a table for us. That and a waiter in a waistcoat that was so attentive that a couple of times I looked up and realised he’d been perched by our table for a few minutes waiting for a lull in the conversation to ask if we needed more drinks.
The place isn’t glam, it’s not trendy, but it feels like a staple that’s been around for ages, knows it’ll outlast all the new young things, and sticks by the favourites it’s been serving for years.
And all day breakfasts. Did I mention all day breakfasts?
