Back in the 1970's there used to be McCLURE'S Restaurants in Melbourne.
At 6.30a.m. on Sundays, we drove in to the St.Kilda Road "McClure's" where stylish, deep cushioned, high-backed burgundy leathered Booths and polished woodwork awaited and the carpeted floors muffled any noise or clatter.
Each Booth had its own wall telephone for you to ring your orders direct to the kitchen. It felt so exotic, other-worldly and a bit naughty to go to breakfast early on Sundays at McClure's before the rest of Melbourne got up.
Luxurious fun, wonderful food, with waiters only seen to deliver piping hot breakfast orders.
Clients could be a couple on the way home from a ball - still in evening gown & tails, golfers heading to Albert Park's course, or travellers/tourists passing through. Occassionally, a TV or Radio personality breakfasted there, too.
The food was wonderful - how I loved those booths - and even toasting our 'door-step' sized bread slices in our own table's shiny big American styled chrome Toaster, then slathering on real butter & condiments. It felt so fabulous, exciting, exotic and a little bit decadent, too.
Perfectly Poached, Scrambled, Fried or Eggs Benedict, with French Toast, delicious Mixed Grills - anything you wanted - even Waffles with IceCream & Syrup. AH! Nothing was as great as Breakfast at McCLURE'S on Sunday mornings. We always felt as if we had been away on holiday when we returned home, sated and, strangely, refreshed.
Breakfast really was something SPECIAL at McClure's. How we wish it would return complete with its booths, wall telephones and toasters.
No loud drunken or drugged youths shouting abuse & filth ever were seen on Sunday mornings (it just didn't happen in those days).