Owner Rod Jones divulges on Revolver's website that he is fascinated with all things revolving, and the cogs motif is ever-present inside this charismatic café — from the carved-wood divider to the mural behind the counter. But Revolver is hardly reinventing the wheel, delivering simple, well-executed fare with a focus on freshness and friendliness.
Get in early on a weekend to snare a cosy, leathery nook, or be prepared to wait. Staff are ever-polite and pleasant and will offer you a coffee ($3.20 and respectably creamy) while you loiter about the threshold. With its leisurely location, steampunk-style fit-out and organic free-range menu, it's little wonder Revolver has become the (delightfully poorly-kept) secret haunt of locals. The mismatched china and barbershop music highlight the old-world charm of the building. Glass cake stands showcase glorious homemade treats. And it is this balance of classic comfort food with a contemporary edge which sets Revolver apart from the other cogs in the café-scene machine.
The big brekkie comes in an iron pan, stuffed with still-bubbling homemade beans, pork fennel sausages, mushrooms, two eggs and honey-cured bacon ($16.50). It is good and greed-gratifying, and despite its reminiscence to the hangover fry-up one might do at home, the salty-sweetness and perfectly-cooked eggs elevate it to excellent. The vegie option ($16.5o) is resplendent with freshly-made hummus and generous slabs of avocado. The ricotta hotcakes are impossibly fluffy and arrive drenched in compote and maple-scented ricotta ($14.50). If your late-morning wait for a table lingers toward lunchtime, you could do worse than grab the cheeseburger; it comes with smoked mozzarella, pickles and rosemary-salted lemon chat potatoes ($14.5). It is unfussy and luscious and up there with the best burgers in Sydney.
Revolver is a well-oiled machine, celebrating great coffee, generous food and a homely milieu.