5 /5 Baggage Claim Philosopher: Proper and Son sounds like a law firm that sues people over croissants, and frankly, it behaves like one. Itās a light-filled cafĆ© in South Melbourne Market, filled with well-dressed, well-fed people who look like they own at least one vineyard and a strong opinion about olive oil.
Weekday breakfast here is civilised, suspiciously civilised. The croissant was divine. Not ānice,ā not āfine,ā divine. Flaky, buttery, and so good it made me question every other pastry Iāve ever tolerated. That croissant alone could run for office.
Then there was the sardines on toast, which on paper sounds like a dare. And yet, it worked. Rich, savoury, unapologetically sardine-y in a way that felt confident and grown-up. However, and thereās always a however, they threw in red peppercorns, which hijacked the flavour like a drunk driver skidding across lanes. One moment youāre enjoying fish, the next youāre in a roadside interrogation wondering what just happened to your palate.
The coffee? A blast. Properly made, strong, cheerful; the kind that doesnāt ask permission before improving your mood.
The crowd is middle-class, relaxed, nicely dressed, the sort of people who say things like āLetās just pop into the marketā and mean it financially. The place itself is exactly what the name suggests: proper. Clean, confident, well-run, without being stiff or boring.
My verdict:
Croissant: criminally good
Sardine toast: surprisingly excellent
Red peppercorns: someoneās chaotic idea
Coffee: very good
Vibe: rich people behaving nicely
Proper and Son is a blast.
The sardines are sardine-y.
The croissant is holy.
And Iāll be back, but Iām watching those peppercorns.
Respectfully.