Oh man. There's no sign, and the bathroom's disconnected, but that's the last hint of pretentiousness you'll get from this Sydney cafe. The world outside seems to stop at bills door (that's no apostrophe, no capital B -- it's an aesthetic thing, apparently). They serve lunch, but go for breakfast; there's the best hot chocolate I've had in my life, so good I took a picture of it, which preluded sweet corn fritters with gravlax (substituted for bacon) and this scrumtious coconut bread dusted with sugar icing . Holy crap. The tables are all shiny, light wood, and the staff is nice. For solo diners, I recommend the communal table, which is stocked with current magazines and relaxed characters to keep you entertained while you wait.
Maybe that's why I love this place so much -- everything on the menu is delicious, and the staff makes substitutions if you don't like, say, bacon or bananas, to keep the flavors balanced. It's a haven in the middle of a city that doesn't even stress anyone out. I knew I loved bills when a father and small daughter came in for brekkie and sat next to me. The father ordered two drinks, a cappuccino, and a babyccino, a hot chocolate in a tiny cup, covered with foam. The miniature spoon on the miniature saucer held three chocolate chips. The first thing the girl did was hand one to her dad.
No wonder Tom and Nicole were fixtures here, when they still lived in the area. It's a good place.