Well, trips to the UK, as ever, typically mean an (almost) uninterrupted 48-72 hours in my favorite bookstores, so you had to figure books would come into the picture somewhere. And would you believe it, I came home with ideas of books I should've gotten. Good thing I'm going back to that part of the world in the spring.
Given the literary narrowness here in Romania, a trip to the UK is like a trip to Disneyland. Now, if we got them to have the coffee tastes of Italians, we could achieve perfection. Either that, or get Italians to stock up more English bookstores. On the beach. Nice. Cozy. Canoli. Aperol. Mucho nice-nice.
However. Until that day comes, I dedicate some time to tracking down nice coffee places. Perhaps I don't know to pick them, but I was surprised how many coffeestores didn't know what I meant when I asked for filter or a V60. Now, I know of course a good roast will taste amazing in espresso form, but personally, I prefer it either as a batch brew or a V60. I just feel it draws something more out of it, and besides, I love a long coffee I can just draw out and chat over, you know?
Hit and miss, though I did spot one place that piqued my interest, just across the street from where we were staying in Edinburgh. It was our first time staying in Edinburgh properly, since before we only took day trains to and from, and I gotta say I absolutely loved it. The vibe, the architecture, even the persistent rain. All had their charm.
As did the Books'n'Cup Cafe (how could I resist?). Alas, there was no mini-Foyles inside, but the warm, inviting scent and the many yummy-looking cheeses in their display swayed one to stay. I like coffee places that offer more than just sweets, especially for breakfast, but these guys were way over in the opposite direction. Several types of toasties, fondues, guacamole, all adorned their display and menu (as well as a nice selection of sweet pastries and cakes).
I, being the lady that I am, decided to go with a nice, conservative avo toast (followed by a nice, immense scone, because it is the UK after all). Since they still didn't have anything resembling a filter, I settled on a flat white.
Nothing against flat whites, I love 'em, and for a while, they were my drink of choice when having coffee out since I didn't use to drink much milk on the carnivore diet, so it felt exotic. The trouble with milk, though, is it blots out the actual taste of the coffee, which is a shame when they're offering a nice roast. So I switched.
I have a love for coffeeshops that are adorned with books, I know it's a bit cliche, I know it's become a trend, but I just can't help it. Ideally, proper ones where you can actually sit and read, not just have them for decoration. But still, this one had a cozy beauty to it that seemed to sit defiant in the face of rain.
Anyway, they were serving good coffee, as far as I could tell. The double espresso certainly helped wake me up without leaving a too acidic or burnt taste down my throat (not that you would've noticed it much through the abundance of scone).
My brother got himself an exquisite hot chocolate (which I had a whole bunch of). It's harder than it looks to serve up proper hot chocolate, you know. All them weak, watery drinks that abound certainly aren't doing anyone any favors.
And even if the food and drinks had been atrocious, you have got to consider the sheer gorgeousness of the dishware. I studied them a long time, wondering how many I could fit into my (already overstuffed) backpack. In the end, the answer was zero. Something to do with not knowing how UK law works too well, either, or how fast the girl at the counter could run.
And the mugs. Did you see the fucking mugs? I couldn't get over them. There's something about earless mugs that is particularly well-suited to coffee, in my book. The coziness of cradling one in your hands, the vulnerability, the threat to spill. Or maybe I'm reading too much into things, as always.
What I know is, I enjoyed the stop, the hiding away element of it, the long last Edinburgh breakfast. And I thought I'd share a bit with you. I like a good, caffeinated pit stop between bookstores, don't you?
