Nowadays, nevertheless, I’ve belatedly began to understand the virtues of a capital B, Antipodean-style brunch. First got here a January journey to Sydney: a spot the place a clothed torso counts as formal put on, and the all-day consuming tradition is strictly as achieved, alluring and boundlessly creative as each Australian says it’s. And now I’ve fallen fairly laborious for Tashas — a Battersea-based, first UK outpost for restaurateur Natasha Sideris’s South African café chain and a spot that’s meticulous in composition, breezy and beneficiant in impact, and dusted with sufficient intangible, southern hemisphere magic to show even the terminally brunch-averse into true believers.