Oh how the mighty fall. The Beach Cafe has a $30 eggs benedict that I once held in reverence. It was the brunch spot that sent me on my holy crusade to see if another was befit to usurp the throne of greatest eggs benedict, held in solace at the pinnacle of excellence by The Beach Cafe. My searches were thorough, yet no equal was found.

So on my 30th birthday I decided to revisit the old flame to finally write the review that would surely crown it as the one true king. As it turned out, the only gift I was to receive was financial liberation from the need to spend $30 on The Beach Cafe's eggs benedict - having not died a hero, The Beach Cafe lived long enough to become the villain.

Obviously the view and atmosphere are unmatched. Credit is given where due. However my oat milk iced latte was good, shy of great, my breakfast tardy, and the calibre of the eggs packed equivalent punch to being hit by a dandelion. For a benedict to cost north of the twenties, it's expected that no corners are cut, and each plated item is a paragon of brilliance. Well, the bacon wasn't crispy, the eggs weren't perfectly poached, the rosti had a mild golden exterior with the interior majority being just soft layered potato, and the hollandaise was as scarce as my self-control in proximity to an eggs benedict, not to mention its flavour lacked zest and left an overpowering taste of butter. If that weren't enough, it also fell victim to shrinkflation.

The Beach Cafe eggs benedict used to be my golden standard, the brunch that showed it was possible to taste the flavours of love as ingredient x, necessary to break free from the 8's into the realm of the 9's. Yet, it seems I didn't need to go looking for a brunch that could be its equal, as The Beach Cafe seppukued themselves into mediocrity.

The Beach Cafe neglected the fundamentals of what made their benedict great, and has fallen to its death. The atmosphere and service gets a 9, the coffee and benedict a measly 7.5. Final arbitration reveals a madrosti_ score of 8 / 10.

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