Bello e Buono

Enjoyed a Sunday breakfast here. Service was so warm and welcoming. I had the BLT which was so delicious and very generous portion. Great coffee. Dog friendly as lots of Tables outside.

What we ordered was delicious. The person who served us at the counter I think could have been new, she kept needing me to repeat the order which was fine, but when we got out the food to eat it, there were little things wrong with the order, wanted no mushrooms on 1, and foccacia we wanted toasted. We got mushrooms and the foccacia was not toasted. No biggie, just frustrating. Other wise delicious

Absolutely beautiful. We had a chocolate muffin, a mortadella focaccia and ham Piadina all to takeaway and absolutely no complaints. Staff were lovely and food was fresh and delicious. Will be back

Loved this cafe. Great atmosphere and friendly service. Food was amazing, honestly the best in town. I went back again after my first visit and it was just as good. Will be back!

I’m not Italian by blood. I’m a first fleeter. White convict stock with a sunburnt soul and a passport full of stamps. But after learning to ride a Vespa through the chaos of Florence in the late ’80s - no helmet, bad decisions, and a heart full of Chianti - I earned my honorary stripes. Italy isn’t just a place. It’s a fever. Once it gets under your skin, it never really leaves. The people? Mad, passionate, opinionated, endlessly stylish. The kind of folks who argue about tomatoes like it’s politics. The food? It doesn’t whisper. It sings arias. And the love of life? Palpable. Like espresso - hot, strong, and guaranteed to leave a mark. So when I was wandering through some sleepy coastal town in Australia and saw Bello e Buono, I stopped in my tracks. Through the doors: a glimmer of the old country. A real Italian owner. Pasta. Focaccia stacked like edible art. And Ona coffee - Australia’s crown jewel in a cup, maybe the world’s, if you ask the right people. I didn’t hesitate. We ordered two piadine - thin, soft, like an Italian hug folded in half. One filled with fresh mozzarella, pesto, tomato, and rocket kissed with lemon. The other: prosciutto, scamorza, more tomato, more rocket, more reasons to believe in something greater. Simple. Unapologetically good. The coffee? Look, great beans are just a start. Without a skilled hand, they’re nothing but potential. But here, the barista knew the gospel. The result? Liquid gold. Balance, body, bite - everything in tune like a symphony in a demitasse. For a moment, I wasn’t in Australia. I was back in Florence, on a Vespa, chasing some kind of beautiful madness.