Wednesday, 20 November 2013

Flat White Cafe Soho (Berwick Street)

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BA is from Melbourne, where they take their coffee very seriously, and as a result he is a massive coffee snob has very strong opinions on the matter. After weeks of listening to him go on about the state of coffee in this little town (They don't know how to treat the milk properly! being the most common refrain), we finally went round to Flat White, a little slice of Melbourne coffee culture transplanted to Berwick Street in Soho, ostensibly so he could show us what proper coffee should taste like. 

Thing is, IZV's from Colombia and already knows her stuff, GW isn't a fan and I can't drink coffee at all because it's a massive migraine trigger for me, so we were really there for BA to get his fix. I showed up mostly for the toasties, because they looked really good on the menu BA sent round in the run up to our lunch outing.  

The place was packed at 12.45 pm, so the four of us were squished together round a tiny table. There weren't enough chairs at first, so we had to beg one off the couple next to us. Orders have to be placed at the counter, so I went up with BA to have a look-see at the pastries on display. I wound up impulse ordering an AMAZEBALL! as the tag read, after the girl behind the counter told me it was made of goodness and rainbows and love fudge, caramel, crumbled cookies and desiccated coconut. 

While we waited for our toasties, I sipped my chocolate, which wasn't so much hot as pleasantly warm, and not too sweet. In the same span of time, BA downed two cups of flat white in quick succession, with an expression that screamed "Oh wondrous, properly made coffee, you are a magical life giving elixir." 

The toasties came out in two waves. I had the tomato, red pepper and Manchego cheese toastie, which was good as expected, because it just isn't possible to screw up a toastie. I tried eating it with my hands at first but got a bit tangled in the stretch of the melted cheese, so I gave up and used the forks and knives provided. It seemed too civilized to cut the toastie up into smaller triangles before eating it, but anything not to wind up with cheese in my hair I suppose. 

We were so caught up in our toasties and trying to figure out what the mousy creature with the massive tail was on the cork board of art behind us (It reminded me of Pepé le Pew), that it wasn't till I woke up the next morning that I realized I never received my AMAZEBALL!, which was an utterly tragic start to the day. Ah well. 

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