Years ago, life threw me a curveball. Not just any curveball – one of those gut-wrenching, soul-shattering events that most people don’t fully come back from. Some grow bitter. Others become a hollowed-out version of who they used to be.
Me? I found solace in a bagel.
Not just any bagel, though. A vego bagel from a tiny, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it café called Jungle Juice Bar, tucked away in Degraves Street, Melbourne.
I didn’t go looking for a safe haven, but I stumbled into one. And for almost 15 years now, this place has been my constant – one of the few places in the world where they know my order before I even say a word. I walk in, and like magic, my drink is ready, and my bagel appears. It’s like an unspoken ritual, a quiet understanding between me and this little café that unknowingly helped piece me back together.
The Best Bagel in the World (And I’m Not Even a Vegetarian)
I’ve eaten an obscene number of bagels in my life. All over the world, from London to Paris to random street vendors who swore they had the best. But nothing – not one single bagel – has kept me coming back like this one.
It’s deceptively simple: tomatoes, avocado, rocket, and the sauce – a sauce so good it could make angels weep. The owner makes it himself, and no, you cannot buy it. If you could, I’d have a stockpile at home, dunking everything I eat into it.
The bagel itself? Pure perfection. It arrives soft and warm, and the first bite sends you into a state of bliss where nothing else matters. Your hands get messy, but you don’t care. The only mission is to savor every last morsel.
The Service: Five-Star Hospitality, Zero Small Talk
There’s a tall guy – who I assume is the owner –and a lovely lady who always greets me with a warm smile. They remember my order, they acknowledge me, and then – most importantly – they leave me alone.
For someone who despises small talk and cherishes their solitude, this is chef’s kiss perfection. A brief exchange, a bit of recognition, and then the glorious freedom to sit quietly, uninterrupted. No forced chit-chat, no unnecessary pleasantries – just good food, good vibes, and the kind of service that respects personal space.
A Sanctuary in the Chaos
During the hardest time in my life, Jungle Juice Bar became more than a café. It was my escape hatch.
Degraves Street is a whirlwind – bustling, loud, filled with tourists. But this tiny corner of the world let me hide away when I needed it most. It gave me consistency when everything else felt like it was crumbling. It let me sit, sip, and breathe when breathing felt impossible.
I doubt the owners know how much their little café meant to me back then. But I do.
And as I look back, I see the ashes of who I was and the person I became. Rising from the wreckage, piece by piece. And somewhere in that journey, there was a bagel, a smile, and a quiet place to think.
So, to Jungle Juice Bar – thank you. For never judging, for always welcoming, for making the best damn bagel in the world, and for being exactly what I needed when I needed it most.
If you ever need a place that feels like a warm hug (or just a life-changing bagel), don’t wait. Go to Jungle Juice. It’s quintessentially Melbourne – but more than that, it’s the kind of place that stays with you long after you’ve left.
JUNGLE JUICE BAR: https://www.instagram.com/junglejuicebar?igsh=ZTQ0NTJtcHZlZW1k
Boundless and Unfiltered 