Review 3: the Bincolony

Good news, everyone!  At last I’ve found a café whose name I can mercilessly pun.  For while its name is actually the Balcony, I prefer my variation.  Does it deserve these new connotations?  Well, to a degree …

1  atmosphere                         ***

2  the food & drink                  ***

3  price                                    **

4  hospitality                           *

5  reading potential                 ***

6  clientele                               ***

7  location                               ****

8  busy-ness                             ***

9  professionalism                   ***

This café has a lot going for it in many ways.  It is set in a covered arcade-like square just off High Town, which bizarrely seems to be the anchor for the town’s hairdressing quarter.  Said square is attractive enough, home for one thing to a fantastic cheese shop which used to sell the most amazing fudge; alas, the powers that be decided to start putting little chewy bits in the fudge – completely ruined it. 

But I digress. 

The Balcony is reached via a flight of stairs which gives access to the upper half of the square’s premises, enabling the restaurant / café to have a ‘balcony’ (though they’ve stretched the definition a bit).  As mentioned, the square is opaquely covered, sheltering the balcony all year, though I suppose one has to forfeit the chance of basking in the glorious summer sunshine this country has in such abundance (unless a Bond villain designed the roof & it can be opened at the flick of a switch to ejaculate a rocket ship).  The café has a grainy, wholesome, almost farmhouse feel to it – it sports wooden floors and brick pillars protruding from the walls, and the furniture is basic and wooden.  However - unless I’ve forgotten something … no, I think that’s it – that’s where the good points stop.  Let the diatribe begin! 

Firstly, if the Moka Bar is the Morder of robot waitresses, the Bincolony has to be the Isengard.  They may as well have a sign above the door saying 'Bite my shiny metal teapot' - and yes, I'm afraid they use those ghastly things.  Actually, it’s more a case of them showing zero interest in you, rather than just being aloof and clinical.  Except perhaps for the one who seemed to be the leader – she was a magnificent example of the Stunning Siren, and if she & the Moka Bar posse had a duel in Church Street, I’d be torn as to who to ‘huzzah!’ for. 

Secondly, the Bincolony have a smoking & non-smoking section, and to separate them 1ft of air has been deployed from wall to wall.  Allow me to illustrate. 

(from above)

Unfortunately, the smoke just passes through this rather ineffectual barrier, so once again Teadrinker 1 spends the rest of another day smelling of fumes.  This is really starting to get on my goat.  Has decent ventilation, like broadband, largely missed Hereford? 

This could be a really charming place if they sorted some things out.  I wasn’t too enamoured of the Head Siren after she taxed me £1.15 for my tea, but the meals on the menu seemed very reasonably priced, and quite appealing (all very English and wholesome – ‘beef stew with dumplings’, etc).  And if you’re going to play music, make it inoffensive and vaguely tasteful – I have yet to discover if Unchained Melody has a place in this world, but it’s certainly not within 25m of me. 

So, overall, a ***.