Swerve

876 Military Road, Mosman
Monday - Friday, 6:30am to 5pm; Saturday, 7am to 5pm; Sunday, 8am to 5pm

Having refined my coffee palate at such places (which I will cover as to the reasons why this is so when we get around to doing an official write-up between regular visits) as Campos, Single Origin, Mecca, and Toby's Estate in Woolloomooloo, my expectations for a shot to reach even the 'good' stage are pretty damn high. Be warned: there are many varying degrees above even this level in my scaling system. It's complicated.

And this place oh-so-pleasantly surprised.

Although I had heard many a previous rant on how great the coffee could really be here, and particularly how the 'star' barista was nurtured and praised and nestled between his spat of Australian and international awards for latte art and other coffee-related competitions, I was still more than dubious. One has to be distrusting in such a world full of people who have no idea what they are doing to such precious commodities...like coffee beans.

The atmosphere of the joint did little to ease those fears. Decor: white, plasticky, sterile. The quick-superficial-glance cross-section of customers: anorexic-long-blonded-hair-little-gossipy-rich girls (sorry, I really come across as a lot more bitter than I actually am) or aging parents with 11 year-old children. Are these the people who truly have time to appreciate this coffee? Who knows. I make no judgements here. Service: non-existent. This could be a good sign - perhaps focus is centred on pulling fantastic shots as opposed to appeasing customer demands?

That's got to be it. Either that or the fact that they roast and blend their own beans, and to near a gorram perfection if you ask me. Or perhaps that Scott Callaghan is a dedicated barista who knows what the hell he is doing and takes his time and care with each and every coffee he makes.

Given all this, my shot was supreme. That's right, it reigned. Rich to the very core, it was the smallest shot in any macchiato I have ever had. The tiny dollop of milk slowly settling atop was stained by such a pure concentration of the roasted beans; this was a serious contender for 'best shot ever'. It was subtly complex but subdued enough to be really robust and full in it's flavour. No one can deny such euphoria.

As the area is one that I rarely have reason to frequent, unfortunately, this place will see very little of me. But if you are ever nearby please do check the coffee out here. That three bolla will seldom be better spent.