It’s getting to The Terrace café, tucked inside the 38-hectare Royal Botanic Gardens, that’s the only real problem. The joggers charging along Anderson Street, aka South Yarra’s Heartbreak Hill, threaten to mow down anyone who gets in their way. Once you’ve navigated your way inside the lush urban oasis (pro tip: target Gate A) the snaking paths present their own inscrutable challenge.

But the payoff for perseverance is as real as the thrill of getting 10,000 steps on the Fitbit. Rebooted late last year under the new custodianship of the Darling Group (Higher Ground, Top Paddock and many more), The Terrace has gone from desultory to destination – a venue befitting the glorious green heart of Melbourne.

Perched on the edge of the enormous ornamental lake, the pavilion and its broad terrace offer aesthetics so soothing they immediately counteract an hour spent in traffic on the M1. The Ibiza chillout session-adjacent soundtrack might prove divisive but there’s no impeaching the stylistic impact of striped umbrellas shading terrazzo-topped tables, the fringing of exotic flora and the views across to the flag-waving tower of Government House.

And while the Darling Group could have rested on its real estate laurels, it’s risen to the challenge of providing a venue that justifies a trip. You might hatch a theory that a food stylist is lurking in the kitchen thanks to a menu of Melbourne brunch classics gussied up to be as gorgeous as the surroundings.

From granola laden with petals and torn mint leaves to fat blueberry and ricotta hotcakes that sends tables into raptures (cameras are wielded, naturally), there’s a uniform prettiness on display that’s catnip to the social media set.

Perhaps less photogenic but no less satisfying are the Calabrian chilli scrambled eggs. They owe their namesake hot pepper to Italy, but the execution is more South-East Asian thanks to the rich, sambal-esque spicy sauce and fried basil leaves. Ditto the avocado on toast, arranged with heirloom tomatoes on a piquant slurry of tahini-spiked whipped ricotta and sharpened with a splash of sherry vinegar.

The menu is an all-day affair, segueing into lunchy dishes such as a chicken schnitzel and slow-roasted lamb shoulder with smoked eggplant. A club sandwich nails its ratios of smoky bacon to tender chook and herby mayo but the fat white slabs of bread are untoasted (boo!)

We also miss the fine print that French fries are an added extra – but when the sun is shining, the young staff obliging and the delivery of excellent coffee swift, it’s easy to forgive.

Next time we might join the queues waiting for takeaway coffee and egg and bacon rolls before heading into the wilds – or at least to find our own patch of velour-plush lawn. But right now, under the shade of a jacaranda tree with a vodka and lime-driven spritz at hand, we’re not budging an inch.

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