My palate is more than discriminating when it comes to coffee. As a not-proud owner of 2 french presses, a Senseo, an plastic espresso maker, an old school coffee pot (keeping it real) and some Sbux Via for emergencies, I find it nearly impossible to make a cup of coffee in my home. That said, I rely on the joe of the road to get my motor runnin’ on a daily basis. I, personally, prefer several shots of strong espresso gently stirred with steamed milk, but let’s face it….I’m not rich, and that kind of habit can leave you MC hammer broke.
The point is, I am really particular about some kinds of things. And coffee is one of them. Weak coffee is like a slap in the face, and burnt coffee is no better. It can be difficult for me to find a good cup….especially from those cannister things. I hardly ever even try them, because the often leave me sad. And le tired.
But not at the Placid Baker.
For 2 bucks, you can get a GREAT cup of coffee, from a cannister thing, and it’s fantastic. I don’t know what they are doing behind that counter, but I’m gonna just go ahead and say it has to involve black magic, God, angels, and the devil. It’s curiously good.
I like the one with the fancy name. Try that one. But they all are good.
Oh. Also, it smells like heaven in here. And they make all these amazing pastries, breads, and treats. This particular day, it was snowing and Saturday, so I had a sticky cinnamon pecan roll thing. When I sunk my sharp teeth into her, I instantly wanted to throw my hands up in the air and cheer loudly for the big world to see.
Instead. I ordered another one to bring to my dad. I arrived with half left, and consider that a GREAT success.