Amidst Albany's open development, sprawling carparks, and conglomerate shopping havens lies Fields Cafe, the much anticipated destination for this weekend's brunching excursion. As I pulled the ute into the capacious gravel parking lot, I half expected to be eating breakfast in the company of cranes, diggers, and dump trucks, yet, I was pleasantly surprised by how alive and modern the cafe itself presented. It felt like the kind of cafe you'd expect to sit on the edge of the world, atop a sheer drop overlooking a wild endless ocean.

First of my friends to arrive, I ordered my oat milk iced latte and pondered why I'd never noticed that oats must have teats - curious. Coffee was delectable and I thoroughly enjoyed sitting alone sipping through my sippy straw as I let my brain wander. Soon after my companions joined and the lovely staff took our orders. My gut rumbled to inform me of its eager anticipation for the food to come, and shortly after the waitress laid down the benedict right in the danger of my cuddle radius, a zone analogous to the bermuda triangle, except it's food that goes missing not boats.

It was a $25 breakfast of good, falling short of a seat in the halls of the great. The hollandaise was sparse and too buttery, the yolk of the egg was a smidgen overcooked, the bacon was succulent yet not quite crispy, and the rosti was hotter than the internal temperature of the sun causing me to pull one of those ever-so-eloquent, put food in mouth, suffer as I decide whether or not the burn damage is worth the loss of social face, and ultimately rebirth my food back onto the plate while my ancestors cringe at my inability to eat like a normal person. I could tell the food was made with love but on the whole it was let down by the technicalities.

I'd give the bene a 7.4, and the coffee and atmosphere an equal 9.5. Final arbitration reveals a madrosti_ score of 8.1/10. I left with a feeling of money well spent and what more can you ask for on a morning brunch outing.

Scores