The Falconer Bar Cafe Restaurant

First impression when we walked in this morning for brunch: BOOTHS!!! Man how I love a booth. Cozy dining experience, not up in any other patrons’ grills, bringing me back to the Jersey diners of my childhood. We sat down and I did a quick Unilocal search: my mate Benjamin B. had given them 4 stars, so I was ready for a good brunch indeed.
BF got the breakfast of champignons: eggs with mushrooms, tomato and potato galette ($ 16). I opted for the Croque Madame with rocket and chilli jam ($ 14). A flat white and a latte completed our order.
The breakdown:
–Coffees: pretty good. Not the best I’ve had in Sydney, but decent enough, esp. for Oxford Street. And beautiful frilly fern barista art.
–Ambiance: fab. They were playing the whole of Paul Simon’s Graceland album. Is there a better soundtrack against which to drink coffee?
–Service: not great. The two waitstaff acted as if being there was a big chore. However, from the looks of them, they both were prob out partying pretty hard the previous night, so a chore is probably was.
–Food: BF’s breakfast-​10 out of 10. PERFECTLY poached, bright orange eggs, perched atop a thick piece of buttery grilled sourdough, framed with two large sauteed field mushrooms, and roasted tomato. And the potato galette! Creamy, cheesy, simply amazing. Yum.
My breakfast: not bad, just not what I was expecting. The Croque Madames I’ve had previously have always come oozing with bechamel sauce in addition to the obligatory ham and cheese and fried egg. There was no bechamel to be seen. It was just a massive ham-​and-​cheese toastie on aforementioned sourdough, which was really good, but I was really missing the bechamel. And the promised rocket was replaced with baby spinach. The chilli jam was the highlight: more of a spicy, slightly sweet tomato chutney. Really very good, and plenty of it.
Bill came to $ 38, which we felt was reasonable. Would def come back for the champignon breakfast, for the potato galette alone. And would like to try their pastas– saw a few coming out of the kitchen and did they ever look good.

This place isn’t much to look at from the outside, but looks can be so deceiving cause this place is awesome. When you walk in you’re greeted by the friendly staff and then you notice how much this place looks like an American diner.
Awesome…especially when it comes to lunch.
You take a seat and then notice the sweet music spinning on vinyl, and their massive vinyl collection. More awesome.
You order some coffee and some food and it comes out quickly. You look at it and it doesn’t look like much… but then you take a bite and it tastes… like awesome. (For the record we ordered Veal lasagna and steak sandwich. The dinner menu changes seasonally.)
This place is a blend of casual and cool, retro and modern, with specks of awesome everywhere. Can’t go wrong here.

I love this place!
Likes:
— Simple French-​inspired comfort food.
— Always good music spinning on vinyl.
— Super friendly wait staff.
— Unassuming hole-​in-​the-​wall ambiance in the middle of the city.
— The «Tom Waits» (desert)
— Even the patrons are cool!

I went there around 3:45pm on a Monday afternoon. I wondered if they were still serving lunch and was told they stopped at 3pm, and so I asked for any other type of recommendations. Unfortunately I was told they would close at 4pm (although their hours did say they would be open until 5pm) so I was only able to order a coffee and a tart. I was out of there by 4pm but it sure didn’t look like they were closing as there were 3 – 4 other parties of people still in the café. How classy.

What do chorizo, watermelon and feta have in common?
Nothing, right?
WRONG hotshot, dead wrong. What they have in common is the perfect summer salad. Who’da thunk? Not I. And clearly not you. I thought there was a typo on the menu, to be honest, but — intrigued — I ordered it anyway.
It came. My companions goggled. Crisp cubes of watermelon. Purple discs of chorizo, lightly fried. And chunks of crumbly fetta, all sprinkled with paprika that had the effect of that infamous subcontinental black salt, garam masala, in elevating the dish to something stratospherically delicious and unusual.
I used to frequent The Falconer for their baked eggs. .. but now? Now this cowboy has a new hero. Oh, I know the old adage (read: Simpsons song) «You don’t make friends with salad», but really, could Homer have been more wrong? You do with this bad boy. You make all the friends you want.

What better place to have a deep and meaningful conversation than over baked eggs? Thats right, there is none.
Rocking up at 10am on a Sunday we were looking for a relaxed atmosphere and delicious food, and we weren’t disappointed.
With a three beard hipster rating, the Falconer was looking good for some up to date fusion brunch goodness.
Beard number one, commonly called waiter in stovepipe jeans and über cool v-​neck, was super attentive, taking our drink order within moments of sitting down in the u-​shaped leather booths that dominate either side of the Oxford street shopfront.
He continued his attentive ways, roaming the booths and filling up water at regular intervals, despite the bottle on our table meaning we could clearly handle our own water needs. A small, but delightful.
I opted for the baked eggs with Chorizo and awesome, with herb and oil encrusted «soldiers» to dip into the delightfully runny eggs. I could lie and say it was amazing, but it was enough to dull the pain of an admittedly painful conversation I found myself in.
The baked eggs did come with a warning of a 25 minute wait, even though they arrived well under that time.
My companion chose the Breakfast of Champions, not to be confused with the breakfast of Champignons. Oh the clever wordplay, oh the irony. It kind of made me want to get a pair of lens-​less spectacles and natter on about the merits of one of the many horrible indie bands that Sydney is producing like a queen and pops out lil worker ants.
However the sheer tastiness of Breakfast of Champions pulled pork and potato hash made up for the ostentatious hubris of the place.
Also, if you are looking to order something that’s not quite on the menu, I would watch out. The word from our bearded friend was that the chef didn’t take too kindly to special orders, citing the heavy business of Sunday morning. However the reality is probably closer to a reluctance to anger the chef.
Whilst we never got to sight the chef, I would bet a sizeable sum that he was also a beardy, and a hungover and grumpy one at that. I wouldn’t want to get him in a tizz either.
Delicious food, attentive staff and a four beard hipster rating make this place a special place to have breakfast and highly recommended.

With the ambience of a New York diner, The Falconer is a haven from crazy Oxford St, day or night. The unassuming façade means the hipsters and trollops skip straight on by, thankfully not realising that this is by far the hippest place on the block.
The owners, who staff the place, are all dead-​set hotties, the coffee is spectacular, and the vinyl is spinning. On the menu you will find amazing flavour combinations and well-​thought out modern gourmet takes on traditional dishes at a reasonable price, with a good wine list to match.
Come for weekend brunch, the home-​made baked beans are to die for.

There’s just something so charming about an unassuming little hole in the wall that turns out amazing food. Walking down Oxford, you might never pick out the Falconer based on how it looks on the outside. It screams dingy diner. But trust me, the food is pretty darn great.
I went for brunch on a Sunday and ordered a cappuccino to start, which was quite well done. The star of the show, however, was the baked eggs. The dish came complete in it’s own little ceramic dish with capsicum, chorizo, tomato & za’atar toast ($ 15). A friend ordered the Croque Madame with kuributa ham, gruyère cheese and a fried egg with sides of rocket and chilli jam ($ 15), which was also to die for. If you’re in the mood for a gourmet brekkie without the 10-​million-​hour morning queue to accompany it, swing on in here and sample what’s on offer. You might become one of the converted.

The Falconer is always my first choice for dinner and drinks on Oxford Street. Less brash and in your face than most of the other local offerings, it might not look like much from the outside, but inside it’s smooth as hell. The three guys who run the place have crafted a really cool café/​restaurant/​bar with cosy booths, great music and a faultless dinner menu.
The dishes on offer usually change with the seasons, but there are always plenty of pasta and risotto dishes to choose from. There’s usually a $ 20 dinner and wine special for the early birds too, so ask about that if it’s not on the blackboard. There are plenty of great Australian wines available by the glass, and I’m particularly fond of their choice of reds.
With great coffee pumping out at speed, The Falconer sees a steady stream of city workers in the morning hours too. A takeaway coffee and a stroll through Hyde Park to the CBD — what a perfect start to a working day.

The Falconer Café at the city end of Oxford street is a great little café that I have had the pleasure of enjoying several take away coffees from before but today decide to go in and have a sit down breakfast.
I get my usual coffee and tack on a bacon and egg roll to the order. My companion goes for a coffee, juice and banana bread. I’m not sure if that is the healthy alternative and I feel slightly guilty in ordering what I did.
When my bacon and egg roll arrives and I hoe into it, I’m anything but feeling guilty. It’s so good I pretty much devour it in minutes. The bernaisse sauce was a great addition and the bit of rocket on there made me feel like I was getting my ‘green’ intake nice and early for the day. The banana bread smells fantastic and tastes just as good.
I notice that it is open all day through to dinner and see tonight’s special is a bowl of spaghetti with a glass of wine for $ 20. Hmmmm, twice in one day. Can it be done?!