The first time I came here was to buy the wonderful book "Kensington, I Remember."
It was a lovely read with lots of nice little anecdotes that truly capture this neighbourhood.
The author stated that she wrote the book while sitting in this cafe. Wanting to experience it for myself, I came here this morning for an Americano.
Maybe I should have ordered drip coffee. Maybe I should have thought ahead and headed to the ATM prior to my visit. But I didn't, and it seemed like this completely ruined my barista's day.
I was standing in line reading the menu and the barista impatiently told me no less than three times that she would "be right with me," despite my insistence that she take all the time she needed, I was in no rush. As I went to pay, she glared at my debit card and told me that it was 4$ minimum, and that she had no gluten free baked goods I could add on. We settled on charging me 4$ for the Americano, and giving me 1.50$ back in change. I felt bad, so I slipped it in her tip jar and received an eye-roll in place of a thank you.
I would have forgotten all of this nonsense if my coffee was good. But there were coffee grinds floating in my cup. Gross.
Less than ideal, but I'll deal. The patio is cute.