Lambton Quay, Wellington CBD

As we slide into this Sunday with both the 1 December, and the beginning of the silly season colliding at the same time, we decided to outsmart the helpful folk who decided it would be a good idea to kick off the first of the month with the annual Upper Hutt Christmas Parade. Having seen the road closure signs earlier in the week, we agreed to avoid the Upper Hutt area for this review, and head in the opposite direction. Had we known how the day was about to unfold, watching grown men prance the main street wearing tights, with giant sacks (of lollies!!) may have been a better option!
As usual, Saturday night had rolled around and conversation turned to where to brunch the following day. We agreed up until this weekend we have carefully avoided the Wellington CBD, but maybe now we were up for the challenge. It was decided that we would get up early, catch the train into town and walk along Lambton Quay, stopping at a suitable place to eat.
In typical Kneepkens fashion, nothing ever goes to plan, and the first hurdle was the pounding rain lashing our windows when we woke up. Rachael, who had already planned her ‘Wellington outfit’, which included silver glitter sandals was not keen to continue the previous nights arrangements. Andre, however, making a quick wardrobe adjustment to his outfit (removed his socks and just wore the jandals) deciding to press on and give it a go anyway.
There was a slight flurry as we realised we would need cash to catch the train ($15 per adult return – Silverstream to Wellington Station), we were also not too clued up about where the nearest money machine is located (some might say we are just not clued up). We hoped our local petrol station might have a machine, and as luck would have it…it didn’t! Forced to make a purchase in order to withdraw some cash it was a toss up between caramel bliss balls or a steak and cheese pie. Rachael was tasked with this small job, so cherry flavoured lip gloss it was!
Ok… you’re probably thinking four paragraphs in and we still haven’t hit the cafe of choice. That would be because as we waited on the platform at Silverstream Station we were informed by a local in the know, that there was actually a train replacement bus, and we would need to go across the road and wait. As we watched a bus hurtling around the corner, heading towards us, our jaws slackened in shock. There is nothing quite like a neon sign claiming ‘Choo choo, I’m a train’ to really make you question the intelligence of the human race! Despite our reservations of stepping on a train dressed in as bus, we did, against better judgement. If you know us well, you will know Andre was happy with this arrangement, as it meant free parking, and Rachael was not, as it meant a 45 minute ride in a sealed container of germs.
The first cafe we came across on Lambton Quay (about a five minute walk from the station), was Astoria. We have been there a couple of times before and Andre is pretty partial to their black pudding dish. As we were starving, and Andre was claiming his stomach was eating itself to survive, we decided to stop here and refuel.
We were greeted at the door by a friendly waitress (please wait to be seated), and guided to a table for two (the guiding was needed as the lighting is so low it is almost a health and safety risk). We were handed a menu on a clipboard, so old and dirty it might as well have been a public library book. The tired silk flower and wobbly table leg were clearly early indicators that this previously well respected establishment has seriously gone downhill.
We were a little curious about the giant coffee machine plonked in the middle of the room, and wondered if it was possibly a strategic move to replace the lack of paying patrons?
The menu was limited and the cabinet food even more limited-er (not a real word but couldn’t think of a better one).
The best way to describe the cabinet food is to show you the pic (below).

We decided the food would most definitely be better than the decor, but interestingly it turned out to be equally as bland. To be fair, Andre’s garlic mushrooms with poached egg on ciabatta was adequate (we know he’s a soft marker) but Rachael’s bacon and eggs were less desirable (perhaps she should have egg-nored them and chosen something else).
Another couple of interesting points – our pot of tea took almost 15 minutes to arrive, and was delivered well after the food had arrived. Rachael’s meal arrived several minutes before Andre’s, so if you’re old school and waiting for the other person to start eating, you’re going to have to weigh up whether cold eggs is worse that bad manners – we’re not eggs-aggerating!
If you’re planning to come to Astoria to eat your feelings, or indulge in a decent sweet treat…don’t!
About the only thing going for this cafe at the moment is that they serve alcoholic drinks for breakfast, and that it is right next door to David Jones, where you swap your Astoria sized disappointment for a decent slice of carrot cake.
OVERALL SCORE: 2 stars





























































