Bloom. Booked, briefly humbled, ultimately fed

Bloom is popular in the way that immediately makes you suspicious. Lines, bookings, people who seem far too organised for what is, fundamentally, breakfast.

My first attempt ends at the door.

A Sunday morning, caffeine pending, something syrup-adjacent already mentally ordered. We arrive with confidence and no booking, which Bloom treats as a mild administrative error. Politely, efficiently, we’re turned away.

Fair enough. Still annoying.

There’s a brief internal monologue about status. Recognition. Whether this should be happening. It concludes, correctly, that I am nobody, and also still hungry.

We leave.

Take two is more strategic. A booking is made. Lessons have been learned.

We arrive, on time, slightly smug about it, only to be placed at the bar. Which, for anyone over 30, is less a seating option and more a physical challenge. A controlled hoist onto a stool, legs left to hang at an angle that suggests this wasn’t designed for eating so much as looking decidedly uncool.

It’s fine. Just not ideal.

Service, to their credit, is excellent. Quick, friendly, and delivered by someone who looks like he’s just come from a While She Sleeps gig at The Gov, but is inexplicably gentle about the whole thing.

The food arrives and immediately justifies the booking situation.

The half chook is the standout. Cooked over coals, properly tender, sitting somewhere between comfort and precision. Green harissa, burnt honey, garlic rice, yoghurt, lime. Yum. It works.

The heirloom tomato galette follows the same logic. Caramelised onion, stracciatella, preserved lemon. Balanced, considered, and gone quickly.

Then the leek.

In theory, excellent. Charred, structured, promising. In practice, completely uncooperative. Stringy to the point of resistance. You chew. It remains unchanged. You continue. It refuses. Eventually it becomes a small, indigestible knot that has to be discreetly abandoned into a napkin.

A rare miss.

Overall, Bloom holds up. The food is good enough to justify the effort, even if the process around it feels slightly prohibitive.

Worth the wait.

Bloom is in Thebarton, open for breakfast and lunch, and, due to popular demand, requires a booking.