Caffe Milano
It all begins with an idea.
3 Prte de Bâle, 68100 Mulhouse, France
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I knew the first day that I arrived in Mulhouse—within the first few hours even—what this place is: a man cave. It’s a little deceptive given the large windows, face-lit channel letters, and a lack of smoke, but it doesn’t take long to make peace with the absence of estrogen. See, it’s important to acknowledge that the words used were specifically not “testosterone overload.” No, these guys, many bald and commiserating, others keeping it casual in each other’s company, were just occupying the black, high-back vinyl chairs. Oh, don’t get me wrong. You’ve entered their den which means they do have an eye on you, but more in an one-ear-bud-in kind of way. The walls are papered in exposed brick print, and someone has gone ahead and leaned a few canvases against the window facing Rue de Bâle, but its truest colors can be found around the bar. A box shelf is randomly in the wall, supporting a shrunken sea voyager and framing a wood-assembled alligator with a top hat. Square novelty plaques of wildlife shadows grace some of the two-dimensional brick just off to the side of a NeXtime clock featuring Frits Vink’s retro design. The sign for DONI TOURS atop the Lindr two tap, joined above by a flat, teardrop Albania ornament hanging from a shelf with long-stemmed Schweppes glasses just about took me out. There is something so bro about emaciated trinket core, I swear. The soccer game plays on the singular television screen off to the side of the entrance, the only lateral movement save the sweetest, inoffensive individual behind the bar counter. Come to find out that the lack of smoke that I’ve come to expect at a place like this is laughably not a happenstance but by design, made clearly forbidden by laminated INTERDICTION DE VAPOTER and INTERDICTION DE FUMER signs right as you walk in. Depending on who you are and what time of year you visit, there is a very good chance that you’ll see this cafe differently. But one thing’s for sure: there won’t be anything clouding your judgement—well, once you’re inside at least.
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Drink: Grand Cappuccino
It’s Lavazza, which means that it is a hot cup of milk. My pluses are that yes, it was hot; no it didn’t taste bad; and adding a leafy design on top of nothing with chocolate syrup always wins over the heart (should the taste buds be less than amused). The stirrer with CAFE lasered out of one end was also a really cute touch. With a CONTI espresso machine in full operation and some effort obviously exerted, I dare (and dare so happily) say that I can’t report disappointment.
•••
Price: Grand Cappuccino=2.5€
Hours*: Summer: Monday–Saturday {7:15–23}; Sunday {8–22}; Winter: Monday-Saturday {7:15–22}; Sunday {8–21}
*PRECISELY why I have an hours section. Google is WRONG. And this cafe has a seasonal split that is written in—for god knows what reason—Italian with the French (Horaires/Orari, Ete/Veres, and Hiver/Dimrit).
Extra Notes:
They have all of these QR codes announcing free WIFI along the window. I tried to scan it to no avail. All this to say, maybe there’s WIFI, but you’ll have to ask the bartender.
Miss Cookies Coffee (Centre Commercial Grand Quetigny)
It all begins with an idea.
Click right to take a look around…
It is NOT in the mall where Google says it is—directly across from Carrefour. Round the corner. There you’ll find Miss Cookies Coffee’s hot pink incandescence. While the opposing Waffle Authentik only has its paneled off seating area, Miss Cookies is decked out with tables and stools within its own store AND passageway occupancy with stout, metal stools in a Monster High palette. There’s a digital ordering BORNE DE COMMANDE (order terminal), but you can just as easily approach the counter and order in the same spot as RETRAÎT COMMANDE (order collection). Maybe on crazier days at earlier times this situation is different. Regardless of how calm or busy, you have multiple cookie and coffee collection methods. Not to worry. Certain television screens maintain the cold and drink menus while others flip from announcing their new muffins to promoting their LAIT VEGETAL option with Alpro. However, as one man—who walked up and began half-apologizing, half-ordering from the man with the centered cobalt section in his crew cut—soon discovered: customers are rewarded for volume. For the muffins, donuts, and cookies, buying four gets you the the fifth one free or buying seven gets you three more free. Voices somehow carry unabated across this mall cavity, defying the physics of sound waves. I couldn’t have been further from the counter, sitting in one of the only two real chairs, grey, vinyl variants tucked away against irregular strips of cranberry, grey, black (perfectly disguising the plug sockets), and their pink, decoratively defining what exists of the space’s angles. And yet, I could hear them perfectly. On top of this distance, I was submerged in the album “Versus” by Vitaa & Slimane. Three guys, with one obviously a trainee, managed the business with nothing but the M’s on their backs and an internalization of corporate’s instructions. You know where you are, you know what they’ve got, they know that you know, and the result is a straightforward recipe.
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Drink: Cappuccino
Redeeming. That’s the one word this drink earns. I vowed to myself that I would not go to another Miss Cookies after one prior experience. But see, I’m really bad at flat out write-offs, especially when there’s potential. No, the cappuccino isn’t special. However, he asked me if I wanted it to stay or to go and then proceeded to make me a cappuccino in a tall glass and sprinkle it with cinnamon. Frankly, with the size and milk ratio, it’s a latte. Will I be complaining about it? Certainly not. On a tray it came via a nice barista. It tastes like coffee, looks like coffee, and quacks like a—wait, wrong analogy…
•••
Price: Cappuccino=4.3€
Hours: Monday–Saturday {9–20}; Sunday {CLOSED}
✓ WIFI
Caffè Gufo
It all begins with an idea.
9 Rue de la Chouette, 21000 Dijon, France
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My assessment detoured from good to exhilarated as my heart espied turn-of-the-century inspirations. Allow me to explain. The island in the center holds a Mahlkönig grinder, a tray of three ground coffees (Indonesian, Peruvian, Ethiopian) for experiencing fragrance, bins of Guatemala, empty bags of roasted Peruvian, rustic wooden drawers, and an extra stash of the latest issue of POMPON. It’s like someone with a desire to create a study couldn’t help but insert a coffee didactic among his/her space of retreat. Then it hit me, it’s a French rendition of an early-20th-century living room. Specifically, my mind raced to the living room of Louis Comfort Tiffany at Laurelton Hall (see image below). Only the chosen made it into these chambers. I, we, the German kids next to me, and the awkward date happening to my left, had been chosen. At the foot of the Église de Notre Dame’s chevet, this two-roomed cafe is a testament to offering space meant to be filled. Against the Gerry Keane wallpaper of mustardy tropics, the geometry of mirrors, the frames framing nothing, and the retro clock of gears suspended within layered empty frames only do more to suggest that the role of the venturer is indispensable. The Japanese-style cold drip siphon on that middle island is to be admired (and it sure was by many including myself) and the monochrome watercolor pet portraits are your chance to move away from coffee and get personal. If the latter is your speed, there is a runway. In this moment, on a bench of dense plush of hale navy or in a cross-stitched tub chair, you can comfortably decide. Are you in it for a conversation about Perry the toy poodle (not the dog’s real name) or about why they chose to brew on the siphon with Badoit? Either way, you’re enveloped, but not by walls stamped with chestnut leaves that catch natural light like a forest clearing as in the case of Tiffany’s living room at Laurelton Hall. Rather, you’re enveloped by environs that are always golden despite the day, perhaps a keenly French way to ensure that the unbidden decide to stay.
Photo Credit: The Charles Hosmer Morse Museum of American Art, Orlando, Florida. I do not own this photo.
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Drink: La Chemex
The menu lists a double Chemex version as well with extra details about the coffee being smooth and aromatic when brewed in this manner (“café doux et très aromatique”). Alright, I see you Colombian and raise you...oof, already lost the poker game. The bag said caramel and cherry, and what does this drink give? Caramel and cherry. You might not immediately realize what you’re tasting because it breaks with the conventions of caramel apples and chocolate cherries. You don’t expect a reverse UNO card here: chocolate apples or caramel cherries. But here we are. It came out after about fifteen minutes and is completely worth the wait. It’s a beautiful coffee that they brewed well, the result no doubt of an intimate relationship with the coffee they themselves roasted.
••••
Price: La Chemex=4.5€
Hours*: Tuesday–Friday {9:02–18:33}; Saturday {9:02–19}; Sunday {10–14}; Monday {CLOSED}
*The days on the hours sign outside is in Italian for some reason.
✓ WIFI
Alto café
It all begins with an idea.
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Not only is this Alto Pop UP (their VIOLA model) inside of the Dijon train station, but it is at the crossroads of everything within. You’ll pass it heading to platform A or 3, on your way to the pharmacy, if you’re looking for the car rental, or going to and from the ticket office. Too, some guiding bars of grey on the ground converge almost directly in front of it. While there are a few donuts, muffins, and pastries for sale, the glimmering Victoria Arduino White Eagle 358, two-group espresso machine is the center of this sealable coffee triptych. This machine is at the heart of the crimson mobile environment, and it steals your every attention. There are some add-on elements, one upright soda cooler as well as a stand-alone display of their teas, cups, and coffees, which provides a closer view than their arrangement on the shelf right above the espresso machine. However, the rest of your surroundings is the train station.
“No NO—he picked it up,” a man shouted in English as a little Asian boy in a blue-button down with a permanent smile puncture just above his chin wreaked literal havoc. The traveling populace passes by experiencing the entire spectrum of sureness, and you can just sit on the L-blocks of flat turquoise or tangerine vinyl under a skylight and enter a lower frequency. The draw of the question on the frontage banner between iron posts is this pivot from searching to surety. “UN CAFE?” You know what? Oui.
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Drink: Cappuccino
The drink is way too hot, felt that immediately. Well, I figure that this high temperature is actually okay given the train station. If you are sitting awhile or taking it for the train, it will still be hot when you finally sit down or after you’ve arranged your things and settled into a seat block of color. Overall I'd say that it’s smooth, really possessing it's own kind of sweetness. My palate wanted so badly to chalk this bit of dulce up to chocolate, but it's not that distinct. Maybe it's something else that's sweet? Boom. The flavor profile listed on the bag of Alao, Alto Cafe’s own roast: "Notes of honey." And, thinking back to all I know about chocolate and its Mexico origins, I’m going to assert that it isn’t at all improbable that these Mexican beans do pull in a tinge of cacao, a unintended result of terroir and the deep-rooted connection to this tree, pod, and fruit.
•••
Price: Cappuccino=4.2€
Hours: Everyday {6–12}
✓ WIFI
Kawa Brunch
It all begins with an idea.
Piscine du Carrousel, 2 Cr du Parc, 21000 Dijon, France
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After almost walking all the way to this place a few days ago, seeing a bulwark of a building among the photos on Google, and then becoming very suspicious at GoogleMap’s directions (See “Extra Notes”), this place was shrouded in mystery. Guess what? My suspicions were right. Don’t trust GoogleMaps. This brunch spot is an amenity of the community pool. I’m not kidding. I’ve been in gym cafes and even a culinary school’s waffle operation (see Twisted Waffles LLC), but this serious operation of pancakes, crepes, toasts, and muesli-topped yogurt is a choice derivation. This brunch spot, however, is certainly no afterthought, no “might as well.” I arrived at 10:30, and at 10:31 there was not one table available. Before the elongated lemonade stand, acting as the main counter and taxed menu display, only the stools along its vegetal bar wall were free. Frankly, I don’t see them planting any people there unless there is absolutely nowhere else for them to go. Ferns, long grass, and shrub undergird the counter while staff dances behind it to make coffee and press juices. Through tall windows, swimmers are visible taking on their lanes under backstroke flags. But see now, WHY are there big stuffed monkeys hanging off two indoor tree trunks that are somehow holding a circus tent ceiling taut? No one, admiring their food and beverage spreads, but me seemed to care. In their matte black chairs and simple wood tables, with legs that conjured up The Weinstein Co. logo, mostly sets of two either both dipped spoons into the same, first cold course. Others waved forks over flattened bubbles that presented each polished piece of brunch, trying to figure out which one to pop first. Clink. That one. With every concerted lap the staff made, more bubbles appeared. There is a jubilation that everyone is in on, the kind that anyone who’s been underwater or in the path of a bubble wand knows.
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Drink: Capuccino
When I dipped into the foam of this capuccino (how they spelled it on their menu), it cratered like someone grabbing a chunk of snow from a heap. While the flavor isn’t stand out, and the creaminess of the milk is absolutely gone, the latter does tame the bitter espresso well enough. I’ve said this before, but sometimes the description bears repeating: it reminds me of the old-school espresso drinks you’ll find in Eastern Europe, just pulling brown liquid and slapping some soul-warming milk on top. It is extremely reminiscent of illy, Caffé Vergnano, and Kimbo.
•••
Food: Crepe
The plates are tiny circles. My brain had to just spit that fact out. Okay, that’s such a pretty crepe! I was not expecting the topping of bananas, whole almonds, and goji berries along one edge, with powdered sugar and almond slices gracing the entirety. It smells perfectly sweet. The crepe texture isn’t the best. A little chewy for me. But you have to understand, having just recently had an unforgettable crepe in La Clusaz as well as a life-altering crepe from a stall down deep in the depths of Avignon, I’ve been ruined. The filling is nice—though I do think Amlou is just almond butter—but really the topping is what made it worthwhile. It takes a special kitchen to have the foresight to plate like this, and I’m delighted to see it. Honestly, if I wanted a light-but-fanciful brunch I’d come here for this crepe and the cappuccino and call it a day—a perfect 8.9€ combination.
Le krusty
How long it took for a singular egg on half of a biscuit is kind of insane. Over half an hour later, I was still just sitting there with my crepe (brunch dessert). The only saving grace was that, looking around, I didn’t see any other eggs or toasts. This observation convinced me that they didn’t forget about me or mess up my order. Apparently, these items are extremely time consuming to prepare. The lamb's lettuce and the sprouts in the presentation are beautiful and really make things pop. But, the dish was completely cold. The slice of cheese on the biscuit didn’t even melt. Cutting into the poached egg, the egg yoke didn’t bleed at all. It is tasty, however there was a lot of poor execution. The hollandaise sauce is also very light while offering a ton of flavor. My brain settled calmly on one final, silly thought: if an alien came to earth and was tasked with making a friend chicken sandwich, something akin to this dish is what I’d expect.
Overall: nothing horrible maybe aside from the wait and the temperature of the Le krusty (because I let the crepe sit while I waited, I can’t really comment on its temperature). There are unique dishes and some surprises.
Price: Capuccino=2.5€; Le krusty=7.9€; Crepe=4.9€ (+Amou by Mounia=1.5€)*
*There are too many differences between from their online and board menu. It’s a little debilitating. Amlou is nowhere to be found on the online menu for the Le Continental or the crepe (even for the upcharge), and this topping also flip flops in description. Sometimes it’s by Mounia while other times it’s by Mounia, noisettes, banane, figues. I think it’s a roasted almond butter, but what makes things even more difficult is that the site for this product lists four different variants of this butter. Yet, the only specification here is on the pancakes on the online menu. It could be hazelnut, but there is already nutella…it’s really impossible to tell. The online menu also lists the latte macchiato as an option in the Le Continental, but the physical menu doesn’t. Because I didn’t want to attempt to ask for clarification, and fail tragically at French, I opted out of the Le Continental for à la carte and a cappuccino.
Hours: Saturday–Sunday {10–15:30}; Monday–Friday {10–15}
✓ WIFI
Extra Notes:
Here’s how you crack the code: you must get some kind of fruit salad or yogurt to start (or the Le Brunché or Bonnie & Clyde work too). If you go this route, you’ll have something to nibble on while you wait for the hot food.
I took this screenshot while sitting in the restaurant…
Google said I hadn’t arrived and had to go around…all while my crepe sat in front of me.
Chez Mes Sœurs
It all begins with an idea.
Click right to take a look around…
On spring’s first attempt at a warm Saturday, this cafe along the road leading straight into the gargoyle line formation of L’Eglise de Notre Dame’s entrance was absolutely filled. Groups ordered, couples sat, and many scanned the QR code blocks on the outdoor seating while others braved the wood display that was both holding physical versions of the menus and holding on for dear life. There’s a gold undertone that permeates the space in the form of the pastry case’s trays as well as the light fixtures and wall sconces. It might have been bustling because of the numerous clientele after 17:00 on a weekend, but the cafe matched this energy. The range of menu formats keep going, from mini easel to any shape of chalk-marker board and even a Carte des boissons right above the tea tins and Nespresso espresso machine. The wall furthest from the ordering counter supports floating black shelves, holding bright books in vertical and horizontal stacks along with teddy bears and bunches of what look to be faux gardenias and peonies. But wait, the display doesn’t end there. Molded to it too is a set of aged, ivory dressers that spans its length. Even there pages, peonies, and petite plants populate. Then glass shelves crop up in a recessed space. Into its adjacent right angle, there’s more black shelving, more books, more flower bunches…it remains invitational, with many places to sit, while also invoking the eager excitement of a child with a story to tell. What you’re filtrating through when you get comfy in a window seat or out on the street—in my case, a chance to breath with the street accordionist’s repeated pressure on the air valve—is the assiduous anecdote of Anne-Sophie, Anne-Claire, and Annabelle.
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Drink: Strawberry Latte
The description: “café, lait chaud, chantilly, purée de fruits rouges et fraises fraîches.” I did check (after my Columbus Café error) that there was coffee in it. The lady at the register wasn’t sure either. That made me feel better about the clarification. In any case, the drink came out on a strangely heavy plate, a warped and flattened piece of gold, with a tablespoon deeply buried beneath whipped cream. Something about all strawberry things in this country seems to require a topping of a particular mix of yellow, pink, green nonpareils. It’s happened before. The drink itself is ridiculously interesting. I don’t make a habit of mixing coffee and fruit, but here the drink is like sitting down to a decadent strawberry shortcake and a café viennois. In this series of events, the fusion of these two things is the drink. Eventually, you are left with a strawberry-coffee soup. Nothing wrong with that. The flavors don’t turn or depress. And, I have a recommendation: scoop out the grit. Never thought I’d say that…but the strawberry seeds from the fresh puree are too beautiful to leave behind.
•••
Price: Strawberry Latte (Boisson gourmande du moment)=6.5€
Hours: Tuesday–Thursday {10–18}; Friday–Saturday {9:30–19}; Sunday–Monday {CLOSED}
✓ WIFI
Vinyl and Coffee
It all begins with an idea.
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Walking past the bubble typeface SOUL, BLUES, and Jazz’s refraction (JAZZ, NEW JAZZ, JAZZ VOCAL, JAZZ FUNK), I wanted to stop, but I couldn’t. Like a anglerfish’s vulturous light, the mushroom lamp on the counter pulled me towards it. Before I knew it, I was being hugged by a low, metal subway ceiling and by music the soul could munch on, standing on a checkering of black and white in front of a 350€ FELA KUTI album. Also here, a totally disinterested man in black frames was standing, neither occupied nor unoccupied. There was a lot to see, but not far to look, and I locked on the espresso machine off to the side. The one-group LELIT popped against an emerald wall under a vintage, backlit FRIGIDAIRE sign. The green and luminescence, even without the cubicle-ready Mickey with open arms standing atop it, blared go.
“The coffee is more to go with the records,” the counter man deterred. Oh, I’d still look at records. But, in my world they are undoubtedly coffee’s complement. There was another guy, the weak “occupied” part of the situation I walked in on, and he took his knit beanie and button-down Carhartt shirt over to the espresso machine. He knocked me out of my trance when he held out the long shot he pulled for me. When I was about to settle back into soaking up any nearby title my eyes could focus on and appreciating the wall of comic book pages setting the scene for CALIFORNIA SOUL, he surprised me by circling back.
“Where are you from?”
The conversation was everything you aspire to find in a record shop. He recommended French radio stations for me to tune into on my continuing road trip: Radio FIP, World Wide Radio, NTS, and Radio Grenouille. Radio Meuh was a given, considering that mentioning I was on my way to Radio Meuh’s Circus Festival was what started it all. This guy, Moroccan with an American accent—having spent his childhood in East Berlin—used to work that gig during his time with the radio stations. We struggled together to remember the name of signed rapper French Montana, who he informed me was Moroccan. Oh, don’t get me wrong, these were the choice words he had to say about him, especially as we both slammed his stage name. Soon we had moved on to how there’s no competition: east coast hip hop is just better than west coast (and will forever be). We talked about the commercialization of the Black Eyed Peas and Cee Lo Green, the former a tragedy the latter a success story. And, as he rolled his loose tobacco under the mushroom lamp, our conversation closed with him almost taking to the air. “And David Guetta is shit!” He did permit a minor redaction for his hip hop mixing era, but still…shit. If you go into a record shop and don’t end up talking about music, you’ve misplaced the needle. When all the music junkies stop duckin for a smoke out front, it’s then that you discover Joao de Bruco/R.H. Jackson, HiTech, Pellegrino, La Granja Orchestra, Halima, Roc Marciano, and Donny Hathaway by flipping through the plastic milk crates and flakeboard displays, slapping a vinyl onto the Sony turntable or sheerly by touch and sight. With air incensed by a little cigarette smoke, you sift shoulder to shoulder, sometimes slide past arched backs. Compelled, you dance to the get down that’s all for the sake of finding your next groove.
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Drink: Espresso
To their credit, with the portafilter locked in, they asked whether I wanted it short or long. Always long. And with that—and no place to put it down—a clear, double-walled espresso glass was in my hands. Impressively, he pulled a shot of coffee from an Annecy roaster, Brand Cafes & Thes (roasting since 1959). The shot was a little thin, but there weren’t any disagreeable flavors. Hot sips with a comfortable hold, the few ounces complements record perusing well enough. After all, as the staffer emphasized, that’s exactly what it’s for.
•••
Price: Espresso=1€
Hours: Tuesday–Saturday {14–19}; Sunday–Monday {CLOSED}
Extra Notes:
There is a WIFI network, but I sure as heck didn’t ask about it. Didn’t need it. There is so much to see and explore in this store. Honestly, it felt disrespectful to ask.
DO NOT MISS THE MURAL OUTSIDE PAINTED BY SAKOASKO ABOUT 2 YEARS AGO. IT IS SO INCREDIBLY DOPE.
Espresso-T
It all begins with an idea.
Click right to take a look around…
You approach from below, head up a staircase lined on the left side with a grid of mirrors. There is a lot of 90s New York loft apartment, with the exposed brick and...alright, I’ve been had. As my eyes registered the impression of New York’s inspiration, my whole being broke when I saw the oversized print of the Brooklyn Bridge, toasted by a sunset and calmed by purpling clouds. Right above the door to the kitchen, set back in a sort of indirect continuation of the brick that both covers the unmirrored wall and defines a stable of seating, this image stays present like the creases in a grinning face. Some of the cafe’s features are coordinated, the mega menu taking up a middle third of the brick wall are in lock step with the black GO IN ladderbacks and tufted cushions on short, chocolate-hued crates. But, it’s the loft fit, how the main area is back to back and papers peak out of the crate slats, hinting at how they double as storage, that confer most of its character. A playlist that followed up Sexy Lounge Chillout Continuous Mix with Johnny Cash’s Walk the Line, might be perceived as disrespect but really it’s just about bucking deference. A man on his laptop, pushing out his lower lip in deep concentration, sat against the brick wall while I took a crate. From scrolling the website, I knew that this man was Bertrand Dubois, the cafe’s manager and head barista. Our only exchange was him giving me the password, neither of us making an attempt at conversation. Painless and perfect, how sufficient simple regard can truly be.
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Drink: Latte Macchiato
It is ENORMOUS, easily 16oz of milk. No wonder you are paying four euros. The drink is also very very light on the espresso flavor, almost like foamed milk tinged with espresso. I’m confident that the shot count was one. Because of the way the milk was steamed, I think that it lands more in the cappuccino camp than the latte one. Sure the technical might not fit the bill, but I didn’t care. All I was left with was awe for steam power on the E1. Even towards the end, whatever Ours Blanc coffee was on the hopper remained at bay. I know that the coffee is good—I had a flat white at Wolf Coffee & Toast with a lot of success—but I would say that getting a cappuccino or a straight espresso here is the only way to go. Note: for all you people out there who enjoy the “dipped tea bag” version of coffee, consider this latte your soulmate.
•••
Price: Latte Macchiato=4€*
*Cheaper than the cappuccino. I’m guessing that the price difference has to do with one shot versus two.
Hours: Tuesday–Friday {10–19}; Saturday {9–19}; Sunday–Monday {CLOSED}
✓ WIFI
Amorino (Dijon)
It all begins with an idea.
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Watching the eyes light up of every person who pushed that cupid—and subsequently the door open—warmed my heart. Of course, there's no reason to think that the kaleidoscopic case of gelato wouldn't be enough to peck pupils with a glimmer, but this gelaterie isn’t simply making people smile; it is as though the place is dusted with light. It first catches all off guard, and then the brilliance settles around them. What particularly makes customers wide-eyed is the way that the place stretches up into a right-angled, vertiginous staircase. A tall break in the stonework—if you look closely, it looks like this was an intentional removal—brings the first line of black, iron rails into view. It’s almost a rote of passage for everyone to walk up to this break—a installed piece of wood turns it into a counter with a few of the cutest oak stools with mini backs—and (sometimes with camera in hand) marvel up at the unexpected expanse. The crystal chandeliers, the size and shape of oversized, beach balls, drip from brass chains. Looking up is a requirement, not a choice. Four gay troops in black toques behind the counter slickly and rhapsodically move through making the drinks, scooping the gelato, and delivering the goods. Select hands pound the powdered sugar container, regularly emitting sounds and sweet clouds. At some points, the woman on the register switches to English and begins pointing with verve to get the order right. And another employee kindly asks for the customer who just walked in to close the door. It’s warm to begin with, but the staff throws the blanket over your shoulders. One lady even stopped to appreciatively tell them it was perfect as she passed the counter one more time. Whether dusted light—or maybe it’s powdered sugar—this little spot stirs people, the cup clinks of the spoon audible as soon as they step inside, before they’ve even received a glass.
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Drink: Small Pistachio Latte
Immediate delight upon presentation which was whimsical, walnut pieces falling everywhere. For the price, it’s a big drink. The pistachio drizzle is the best part. I wish there was more pistachio flavor overall, and, as I considered this adjustment, it also occurred to me that a tweak to the presentation would benefit it too. Pistachio cream drizzled on the inside of a tall, transparent glass would have kept the flavor constant, plentiful, and—perhaps most importantly—tasty to the eye (subconsciously boosting the taste). Though, what I found in the end was enjoyment. Take it or leave it.
•••
Price: Small Pistachio Latte=7€
Hours: Monday {14–19}; Tuesday–Sunday {13–19}
Cooffies
It all begins with an idea.
Click right to take a look around…
Darn. The only seat in the house is taken...by a teddy bear with a flower in its right ear and his friend, doe-eyed cookie pillow. Okay, maybe I wasn’t really looking for a place to sit. That’s not really what this drop-in cookie spot offers. The free-standing, hammock chair display is atop a little patch of black, white, and peach tiling. A wall rectangle, in the same peachy shade, centering some Cooffies neon, sits right behind it. All the cookies, filled and unfilled, light and dark, drizzled and nut-jammed (15 types, more or less) are angled towards you on opaquely gold cookie sheets. The menu is a changeable letter board mounted into a recessed wall joining the peach parade. You can’t go further...physically, but I did turn to the three blush informational boards that talk about NOS PRODUITS (our products) and go into deep detail (there’s a whole section on their sugar). It’s obvious that they—Amandine and Marine, a mother-daughter duo—are so proud of their completely French and thoughtfully sourced products. While I can’t attest to the cookies, I can attest to the air of the space. Turning back to the teddy bear, it’s abundantly clear that someone cares. And then it hit me, isn’t every nursery christened by a first teddy bear from a mother, sister, aunt, or best friend? That’s the air: soft and expectant with supportive women standing near.
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Drink: Cappuccino
It came off the Delonghi, and it smelled really good. I had hope for it. But, there’s a small problem: it tastes thin. I kept trying to put my finger on why. I have a few suspicions. The milk could be loaded into the Delonghi powdered—this would explain the severe lack of body and structure (it was like water). I’m convinced that the beans loaded into the machine are good, they just might not be right for the machine (the second suspicion). My third theory is possibly that the grind was too coarse for espresso. Regardless, it was drinkable; it just wasn’t all that rich or flavorful. I had a cookie on me (one from a batch that my mom had sent from the US that she baked for me), and somehow it overwhelmed this cappuccino completely.
•••
Price: Cappuccino=3.5€*
*I noticed after ordering that they do have an explicit set: one drink (cappuccino, latte macchiato, ice coffee / iced latte, chocolat chard / viennois) and a cookie. This set costs 6.10€ saving you 1.2€ (viennois / latte + Le dulcey)!
Hours: Tuesday–Saturday {10–18}; Sunday–Monday {CLOSED}
✓ WIFI**
Extra Notes:
**You get the Dijon public WIFI here.
PAUL (Dijon)
It all begins with an idea.
Click right to take a look around…
With a woodworked base, like a bureau with thick, petaly legs, the pastry case is three levels. It isn’t until you make it down this golden display, past the wall paper of an old town street and a free-hanging stained glass panel of autumnal leaves layered on a curly design, that you find three menus in skinny black frames. There are two sets: Le Parisien and Le Continental. What’s interesting though is the white tiling of the wall behind it all. If you pay attention, you’ll notice a slight variation here and there, vases, cornucopias, windmills, and other finely-executed depictions in burgundy. While these ceramic tiles might seem ignored, the fact that they are even there in a chain like this—when a roof beam right above them has been stamped PAUL in their signature lettering—speaks less to lacking awareness and more to incorporation. The seating in the back makes it fully evident that redecoration is not off the table. Most of the chairs are grey seats with navy and baby blue backs, but there are two ash booths and a set of ebony and ivory single-rung ladder backs (definitely yanked out of some type of storage). The vintage posters, always proudly claiming Lille, add some color and story while the black and white photos, hung in admittedly strange lines, accomplish half of the same. The ceiling is dropped in one spot, and here the punctures are all lights. But, this illumination closer to the glassed-off bakery occurs only in some spots of a sea sponge of punctures. Will the reason ever be known? Never. Maybe these holes let bakery fumes escape. Or maybe when plotted, the punctures map out PAUL’s master plan...all starting in the north.
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Drink: Espresso
It smelled great, looked great, tasted DASTARDLY. It actually has like licorice and alcohol and salt mixed together? Look, my palate was going haywire. There’s a sweetness at the end, but it can’t be better described than licorice. While I managed to drink it, I actually feared each subsequent sip. I thought about giving up several times…I think that alone tells you all you need to know.
•
Price: Espresso=1.90€
Hours*: Monday–Saturday {7:30–19:15}; Sunday {CLOSED}
*Closed Easter Monday, April 1.
Extra Notes:
COFFEE & MUFFIN
It all begins with an idea.
Click right to take a look around…
I don’t know why there are two sides of the street labeled COFFEE & MUFFIN, but the one on the east side—with the director’s chairs and the tangerine A-frame out front—is the one you’re seeking. Perhaps the other space is overflow seating? If so, what a flex to have two storefronts on one of the busiest streets in town. Inside, it’s one of those places where the longer you sit, the more you see. The main wall is wood trim between cement, backdropping a tribal African scene on canvas (signed COCO 2014) along with a rogue arrangement of frozen puzzle pieces. And, in my opinion, this integrant is incredibly hard to style around. Then again, I get the feeling that the older gentleman managing the place didn’t style anything for anybody except himself. He comes off strikingly assured with his pairing of a charcoal and ash, double-wrapped scarf and apron patterned with rainbow brush strokes. There’s just enough seating, with more that fits around the small, open prep space in the back, populated by chairs of magenta and orange. Behind the scenes, there is one other personality: a kid in comparison to our front-of-house character who stayed in that baker’s cubical with only occasional appearances up front. While you probably won’t interact at all, this guy in black, jean cargos with stitched Asian characters on the side and black and red converse to match, is worth a nod. He seems to keep things moving; he fits the disregard to “styling;” and he rocks his own version of the brush stokre apron (I sincerely doubt that he would agree with me). There’s this overall impression of management without it feeling managed. It’s tranquil. My heart skipped a beat when I laid eyes on the Maicon MCN pop art print of the original Game Boy, a checkerboard of color that corresponds magenta and orange. And yet—here’s that more I mentioned—something else soon stole my gaze: a mask of a kind of rodent in a green hat lodged into one of the stocking shelves. Turning around, this smiling creature’s in the window too wrapped in a...worm? I compulsively asked the man pinned up in the scarf. This character around was Billy the hamster and his friend, Jean-Claude the worm. Why? No idea. Even he who works there seemed taken aback by their presence. When the music finally ticked on—an ill-fitting mix of Kid Laroi and Post Malone—it was decided: the muffin man that works on Rue des Godrans might decorate with a quad-clock (New York, Paris, Vancouver, Sydney), but his space keeps pace with some undisplayed time and to the beat of an unwonted drum.
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Drink: Latte Macchiato Speculoos / Latte Macchiato Spéculos
It’s really just milk foam for much of the drink. I watched him make it, and astoundingly he didn’t pull a shot or steam a thing. It was like a latte magic trick...not my preferred kind of magic. The cocoa powder on top of the huge foam cap looked like a marshmallow toasted over an open fire. In my opinion, it all struggled aesthetically. He dropped it off with a long metal piece that reminded me strongly of an occluder. I did try stirring with it, but the milk (even though it wasn’t very hot) adhered to the metal stick. If you tried to pick it up again, which I did for eating the muffin and to further stir the settling syrup, stickiness entered the experience. It was so bland for most of the time, that I actually decided to dive into the muffin (something I would have never ever done ever). Too much sugar. That being acknowledged, the layer of syrup looked so thin that I finally decided that I needed to add SOME flavor. Once I got to the very end, it started to taste like specoloos a little. If I was looking for coffee, I’d avoid this one. It just ended up being a large glass of lukewarm Lait de France, and I for one am in need of more.
•••
Food: Triple Chocolate Muffin
This muffin is weirdly dry despite looking like the muffin wasn’t cooked all the way. Actually, scratch that: it’s cooked all the way, the moist patches are melted white chocolate. Honestly, the muffin and the coffee are only good when eaten together. Separately, the muffin tastes like something not necessarily store bought or box made, but like robbed of the fluffy texture and compounded flavor that you’d hope for from a place that has “muffin” in the name (for the assessment of the coffee on it’s own, see above). Also, BEWARE! I checked out with the young guy, then made a spontaneous decision to run into the bathroom before heading out. I WAS A CHOCOLATE RUDOLF. The end of my nose was completely brown from contact with the muffin top’s chocolate chunks…AND THE GUY DIDN’T TELL ME. I get being polite but PLEASE PSA ME OUT OF EMBARRASSMENT. It’s the triple chocolate muffin that requires you to triple check your face for evidence of its consumption.
Price: Formule Gourmande (1 Boisson Chaude ou Froide + 1 Muffin ou 1 Cake)=6.50€
Hours: Monday {12–19}; Tuesday–Saturday {9–19}; Sunday {15–18}
✓ WIFI
Yaoz Frozen yogurts et coffee shop
It all begins with an idea.
Click right to take a look around…
No need to hesitate: the man coming at me from this destination’s direction was savoring his frozen yogurt sundae. As I stepped inside, the TV screens of menus—the third method of browsing their many many options—popped against the exposed, tan brick. While my mind recalled NiceCream in Wroclaw, Poland, in reality this spot runs more bubbly and product focused. Rightly so: the statuette of a bubble waffle chock-full of frozen yogurt and a neatly-packed rainbow of toppings—like an abacus with ice cream poking through the lines—is right on the toppings case, the most noticeable element of the display between you and the well-adjusted woman taking your order. The leading element is a rounded counter, with a title label on the front and a decal announcing YAOURT FRANCAIS right on the curvature, that astoundingly separates you and me from every refrigerated ingredient, powder, and piece of machinery to craft the gargantuan menu. Color me always amazed (or in this case in a palette of Microsoft 365) that somehow there is inventory space and also enough room for two employees to dance around each other comfortably. As I stuck around, relaxing in one of the cerulean, metal chairs, the on-it employees did loosen up a time or two—the guy behind the counter pulling out the Cardi B purr at one point and, when an order came in just before 22:00 the same guy whooped an “OK.” It doesn’t default to some aesthetic double-decker, instead striking a cool, approachable tone entirely befitting of fro-yo.
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Drink: Cafe Croc
Honestly, I can’t be and won’t be mad. It’s such a simple, joyous concept. Plus, it’s so easy for them to churn out—just stick the chocolate-lined cone cup under the fully-automated Franke machine, and voilà. While you might fear that it’s small, it’s not. I found it far from stingy. The chocolate stays hard, even after the espresso is added. Yes, eventually it does melt, but it takes time. There’s something to admire with how the cone doesn’t falter, the chocolate doesn’t liquify immediately, and the espresso remains warm and distinct. Never does it become a mess. If you have as much fun with it as I did, it does all fuse together, but not into the expected mush. Instead, it is almost like an espresso, chocolate truffle with the cone adding a dash of ice cream inspiration. Novel and yummy.
••••
Price: Cafe Croc=3€
Hours*: Monday–Tuesday {12–20}; Wednesday–Thursday {12–22:30}; Friday–Saturday {12–23}; Sunday {12:30–20:30}
*And they were STILL taking UBER eats orders at 22:00 ♡
Extra Notes:
There is a WIFI network, but I’ll have to try to hop on when I revisit because with all the limited topping options, you better believe that I’ll be back. Also, their yauort of the month was fruits rouge (red fruits). Not my speed and with April just around the corner...
Maison Roger
It all begins with an idea.
Click right to take a look around…
Another sunshiny disposition—Dijon seems to be full of them. But, caution: never ever take them for granted. As this simple woman exchanged words with me in French, never was there the slightest frustration. Heck, as her older counterpart crossed the counter from the sandwiches and chocolates in cellophane bags, tied up with springy ribbon, to the side of viennoiseries and Kinder Joys, she was apologetic for how long the coffee was taking. No ma’am. You are not my roadblock to coffee, but rather my gateway, and I thank you. Aside from being the fork of Rue de Serrigny and Rue du Transvaal, this break spot has got a lot going for it. The key colors are yellow and black, straightforwardly apparent in the logo on the two-dimensional, cream brick occupying the only free wall, the ceiling’s choice onyx fixture squares (in love with these), and the half-circle, drop-down ceiling right behind the counter. There is a magnificent amount of seating in a small area with a cafeteria feel that in no way spills over into the entrance space. Lit completely by the sun through floor-to-ceiling windows—those stud fixtures proving that they are just for my glee—some people munch on sandwiches, others are stare at phones. However, every single-leg table is trimmed with neon, and the long four-drawer dresser pressed up to the south-west facing window left me agape. No, it doesn’t “go together,” rather it “goes separate” meaning that the cohesion is with the repeating bald men (really, at some point I thought I was seeing double) who always took one of the backless (and heavy and very dangerous) stools at the dresser and the view of the colorful apartment block across the street. It too finds cohesion with the high school kid who walked in and prompted the greeting, “allongé.” The clerk already knew his order and opted for a confirmation rather than a polite salutation. This bakery isn’t well thought out (the black duck tape wrinkling on that support column behind the trash is really some unexpected urbancore), but it serves bread, coffee, and pastry. And, with endless sets and menus, laminated descriptions in an attack of graphic design, you order and choose your own separate way to enjoy.
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Drink: Espresso
I understand why it isn't called a long rather than allongé. It took a HOT minute to pull and it was big. It could have been 6oz? The coffee was fine, a little sharp at the end. Don’t misunderstand me; it isn't good. BUT with a sweet or pastry it won't matter. So get the set and don’t mull over things too much.
••
Food: Croissant
The croissant looks homemade—an emphasis on the crescent, less on any pretty puff. It was soft and pillowy, not because it was ultra buttery or anything. Simply put, I think that it was well made and crafted (even if en masse) with an experienced hand. I enjoyed it quite a lot.
Just a note! There’s also a microwave in the seating area in case you want to heat the croissant up a little. Are the serving trays microwave safe, though? If you’re brave, there’s only one way to find out…
Price: =2.5€
Hours: Everyday {6–19}
La Grange (in La Gloriette at Village Gastronomique)
It all begins with an idea.
Click right to take a look around…
The spatial equivalent of fire dancing: there’s so much happening, you don’t know where to look first, yet there’s something pleasing in it all. But, there’s one catch: unless you’re always on the lookout like me, you do have to know it’s there. Outside of the Pathe movie theater is an outdoor-indoor food market called Village Gastronomique. It’s outdoors as you walk from store to store, however these arteries are covered by clear tunnel roofs, with each store having its own internal independence. Even though it was pouring, a man in a cap chose the patio chairs and burnt red rug right outside this quadruple threat—cafe, bakery, ice cream parlor, and chocolate shop. With the width of the tunnel roofing, he was at no risk of wind kicking up water at him, and with its transparency he could smell, hear, and watch the raindrops fall while he scrolled and sipped. So what about that fire dancing? Oh no, I haven’t forgotten. This moment was like the performers slipping on the hand loops of the poi. First la gloriette BAR A DOUCEURS flips a flame of ice cream in front of you, then a spark to the right is la Grange with its three menu boards with sets, drinks, and their proud creations scribbled in chalk marker. Then, there are the spins: a Crayola box display of teas, a stainless steel set of coffee dispensers including their signature Cafe LE CINQ, produced in conjunction with Vincent Ballot, and simple shelves selling bubble gum in jars, gourmet marshmallows, and even totes of fortune cookies. The second lick of light is chocolatier Maicon Dufoux, a winner of Le Guide des Croquers de Chocolat’s Tablette D’Or award, and a seating area with walls of glass across which enormous hearts dance. The amount of sugar in this place could take down an elephant. And yet, an Asian lady occupying one of the tables is just gazing at it all...her hand entering and exiting a purple bag of potato sticks—another twirl. The barista, the sunniest sort with a septum ginger beard and hair knotted back, spun things again.
“I like your haircut,” he said, noting my four French braids.
I smiled. What really is the distinction between haircut and hairstyle anyways? Things wound up again from there, a blind man accidentally walking into my table, a couple pushing their stroller out the opposite exit, groups taking a seat and that barista soon swooping in to gather orders. Each passing moment seems to bring with it more oxygen, fueling an unquenchable dance. And when our coffee conduit began intensely whistling along to “I Want it That Way” by the Backstreet Boys, it was like the universe coyly confirming my impression of inflamed choreography: “Yeah, you are my fire...”
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Drink: Soy Flat White
The soy milk really struggled to blend with the espresso. Interestingly, the espresso that they use is actually a joint project with a MOF roaster in Marnay named Vincent Ballot. While the soy milk was steamed heartily for contrast, a good inner white and tan top, proportionally the microfoam would be better classified as a cappuccino. I know why this happened. Without it being foamier, there probably would have been very thin contrast if any. Unfortunately, I really couldn’t register the two shots of espresso. While I love the idea of an affordable, plant-milk coffee option, I’d say that a fuller coffee experience necessitates opting for dairy milk. Every attempt should be made to fully appreciate Vincent Ballot’s craft.
•••
Price: Soy Flat White=3.8€
Hours: Everyday {10–19:30}
✓ WIFI
Extra Notes:
This cafe is a GODSEND. Why? Because the city’s BasicFit is right next door. Okay, another question: why is a sweets store a godsend for a gym-goer? Well, because I can’t think of a better way to top off a workout than with a plant-based (oat, coconut, almond, soy) coffee. It warms you up, gives you some nutrients back, and tastes sweet without sweetener. This place is an underappreciated gym asset.
Columbus Café & Co (Rue des Godrans)
It all begins with an idea.
Click right to take a look around…
At some point you just get used to the bear cupids flying on the windows and their menu’s muffin glorification. Still, there’s always a flare that you need to lick your fingers to put out. In this case, there’s a caveau. But wait, let’s set that aside for a moment. Light spills in from windows overlooking this cafe’s corner on Rue des Godrans and Rue Bannelier. The four o’clock shadows cast themselves on the Columbus Cafe & Co. welcome mat. Seating brackets are in most cases discernible by color and ceiling. Yet, in all cases, the differing fixtures set these areas apart. Circular, copper hoods accompany a window bench off to the side of the ordering counter while pendant lamps like black pan lids favor a center table. It seems like the light tropical blue section—with chandelier orbs that serve its light needs up with a little glamor—is where it all ends. Mistaken, you are. There’s a staircase winding down, more beneath. When you descend the cross-hatched, iron steps, with a faux vine wrapped around the ropes of the railing, it’s suede tub chairs and stools. Being in the vault (caveau) means much brown and much comfort lighting that fills in some of the stone worked into the space’s curvature. There may be nothing “stand out,” but you get your coffee and choose your perch…or your underground hideaway. While on-brand, this bear den is a rare Columbus occurrence. For our part, we’re all just keeping it warm.
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Drink: Small Tout Doux Noisette
I want to be mad, I really do. First gripe: it looks nothing like the picture, seemingly a snowy mountain with slopes of gold and hazelnut pieces. Second gripe: THERE IS NO COFFEE IN IT. I blame missing this teensy detail on not having eaten all day, but the description makes this fact clear (“Lait veloute, cremeux de noisette, strop de noisette, creme fouettée pailletee & noisettes concasses”). However, the drink I got (see picture) completely lacked those final hazelnuts and whipped glitter ingredients. I couldn’t help but be severely disappointed AND feel like I had paid for something I didn’t get. If they don’t have the ingredients, they really should offer a price cut or perk of some kind (plant milk for free, a different topping, etc.). So, why am I not slamming this drink entirely? Because it tasted like the most perfect, heavenly, Nutella-kissed milkshake that I’ve ever had. In fact, it achieved a new level of bliss after I dumped an espresso shot in it. It may have been filled with false promises, but it was also filled with whipped cream and deliciousness…a fact that left my priorities completely compromised my priorities.
Expresso
The spelling is their choice, not mine. It didn’t have all the depth that the last shot of Columbus espresso that I had did at the other shop right around the corner. However, that doesn’t mean that it was acidulous or bitter. It is the shot that is promised, and it served finely as the enhancement on the Tout Doux Noisette.
•••
Price: Small Tout Doux Noisette=5.90€; Expresso=1.80€
Hours: Monday–Saturday {8–19:30}; Sunday {8–19}
✓ WIFI
Columbus Café & Co (Pl. Darcy)
It all begins with an idea.
Click right to take a look around…
It may not look it, but this Columbus is a powerhouse. With a view of the Porte Guillaume—a historical landmark that acts as a cross roads of such in Dijon for those either entering the town or escaping it through Jardin Darcy—they do amazing business. Tack on the fact that my visit was an off-and-on rain day, and you have got the perfect conditions for couples, grandmas, daschunds, you name it, to occupy this two-story space to capacity. As expected, when it started to pour is when things got serious, the foyer filling up with more numerous groups, always making the left into the dim main salon—with a crimson bear painted on a panel of wall shingles—with crowded trays and a concerned look until they spotted the stairs. Neither I nor the baristas had any cause to blame them: the weather report has a strange habit of lying, saying all day and at 14:00 that it would be clear at 17:00 to have changed to a 67% chance of rain at some time in those few hours...besides, the baristas were crushing it. They were cleaning and restocking muffins when I came in, and at one point, one of the two ladies bolted down the steps with a tower of Duralex glasses that felt like a Seussian act of defying gravity. Everyone seemed happy, the girl behind me belching and laughing with the guy she was with, two gals in cushiony one-seaters underneath the stairs taking their sweet time with a dry view of the downpour, and even the kid sirening (that’s the only way I can describe the sound he was making). The little guy just seemed anxiously ready to be still, and his Eastern European mother had him and his brother pottied and stable in no time. It’s not a quiet experience, and the melange of pastel and Native American, wood lodge certainly attests to that. Yet, well placed and good intentioned, there’s hardly any harm and resolutely no foul.
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Drink: Exspresso
Well, I'll be damned. This shot has chocolate, so much chocolate. And, even after I sipped it, it had a veil on top like the crema still had work to do after a few sips. It is dialed in a little bitter, but it's not bad. The volume is also off—might’ve pulled a little too long. I genuinely don't care. It went beyond the default "coffee flavor" in a way that I was genuinely grateful for. The glass also felt wrong. but it also doesn't matter; it was Duralex—French glass. Good for them for sticking countryside.
••••
Price: Exspresso=1.80€*
*If you wanted it Lungo, it’s 1.9€ which is not bad.
Hours: Monday–Friday {7:30–19:30}; Saturday {8:30–19:30}; Sunday {9–19}
✓ WIFI**
Extra Notes:
**But, as per usual with the WIFI, Instagram use is questionable.
Urbanités
It all begins with an idea.
Click right to take a look around…
The French cobblestone lead-up is a feat but—walking under the most beautiful dark emerald garage door, past the Flamant HOME INTERIORS vignette, and into what was definitely once just a carport—you make it to your destination...just beyond the plastic bins of bamboo set on the cafe’s third level of entry: a grounded wood patio. The interior seems to lightly blush. What I mean is that there are some wood elements, a trunk core behind the counter, the counter wall, and the first room’s tables, yet one lit peach orb and pinky brown chairs add a little rouge. What more contributes to this tint? The Easter core. This cafe is the only one I’ve seen lean at all into the holiday, and with bunny masks fused to the wall, baskets of eggs and glazed bunny miniatures, wreaths, flowery medallions, and two egg rattan rings on either side of the entryway—almost acting as a continuation of the Urbanites window decals, forever a total eclipse—it takes a dive. It’s not to the scale of every-table overkill, but it’s certainly someone joyously taking part in the holiday. Beyond this main space, the cafe keeps going, one room to disappear into and another that lets you play apparition with a half-frosted window to the outside world and a glassless window into the initial point of entry. Nestled into this glassless window, a cubical cutout, are two gray vases striking a Snowth resemblance and an enormous Illy coffee cup and saucer. There might be something misleading about a name like urbanities, especially if one finds themselves in this grayer room with some lingering woven elements, a bird cage, and a fire engine red crate. However, to that I’d say it depends on which definition you are seeking kinship with. Refinement and courteousness are disputable, but the common understanding of urban life—getting different views from the front, middle, or back of the bus or watching from the roof, second floor, or lobby—is a gratifying translation. Taken together—the feeling the passing wind of a small boy from a family running from the back room to the front to look at the cakes, sitting midway and observing noiselessly with my empty cup, and catching through my wall viewfinder a task-oriented woman quickly taking the first chair she saw and settling in for a latte and some work—educes passable urban, multi-sensory mimicry.
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Drink: Allongé
An Illy allonge that was totally fine. I have no complaints. It had a sensational smell going for it, and the taste was clean. The temperature was also very nice, and it was a decent size. It wasn’t enough to finish my protein bar with it, but that just means that I was able to drink it smoothly—no resistance. I must admit that I’m glad that I didn't get a milk drink. Someone ordered a milk-based drink and I could hear the steam wand: like someone shrieking in a deep down tunnel, a subjection to the lengthening of the sound waves lowering the pitch.
•••
Price: Allongé=1.80€
Hours: Monday–Friday {7:30–19:30}; Saturday {8:30–19:30}; Sunday {9–19}
✓ WIFI
Extra Notes:
Wolf Coffee and Toast
It all begins with an idea.
Click right to take a look around…
The barista has that “your big brother’s good friend” vibe. It’s like anything you come in with you have to let go of as he’s known you since you were five. It’s a surprising dimension for this strictly eggshell interior, whispers of light-catching brush strokes in the wall paint and extremely matte vases standing up the flora (the only real pops of color). There’s no denying some kind of homage to the Asian minimalist style, but with the warmth of familiarity and the two cacti (one seemingly live senita and another bleached ceramic saguaro in front of the COFFEE STATION), it’s hard to convincingly attach this concept design and move on. The counter is a thick, unmovable block of white that braves a curve opposing the main seating, a secondary white block with two beige, suede cushions set into it. While there are many sockets in this installed seat, the tables, low circles, are for enjoying, not for studying or work. In fact, that’s the summary: relaxed not minimal, this cafe welcomes you to recharge, not just by offering many plugs but also by means of thoughtful undersaturation and inoffensive subtraction.
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Drink: Flat White
The barista served this drink in a sort of jar cup? It had the ridges of a Gibraltar glass/Bonne Maman and the lip of a sort of fused glass, chandelier ring. It works all the same. I never mind a little unexpected presentation The coffee itself is from a Dijon roaster, Ours Blanc. The aroma ran very close to kettle corn, and I can say that the taste fell similarly into the domain of sweet-tinged savory. If I were to guess, I’d say that the flavor notes were caramel and perhaps something a little vegetal. After checking the bag, read it and weep: chocolat, caramel, noisette. It’s a honey processed Catucai from Brazil that was roasted 10 days before. It’s satisfying enough, especially the high-contrast, plucked plumeria Latte art.
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Price: Flat White=4.50€*
*Coconut and oat milks are free. I wish I had noticed this feature on the menu…but then again, I enjoyed it. So really, how much could I have wished?
Hours: Monday–Friday {7:30–19:00}; Saturday–Sunday {8:00–19:00}
Extra Notes:
BE - Collagène café
It all begins with an idea.
Click right to take a look around…
How did I know that this cafe exists? Classic case of an A-frame in action. Walking down the Rue de la Liberte, the “CAFE + COLLAGEN” on the pink and pine green branded sign needn’t say more. Inside the Galeries Lafayette you must ascend one floor to floor #1. Following the ironwork balcony or walking through the clothes racks, this cafe is a peachy pop overlooking the main atrium, directly across from Digel blazers and dress shirts. What they’ve constructed feels like a set for the cooking network, made even more a reality by the way that the barista behind the counter had to physically pump the water into the sink every time to wash any blender or fill any cup. The woman behind the counter—with oversized squared lenses and rocking the white t-shirt, straight-leg business pants look—didn’t falter, seemingly credulous and motivated. When it was finally my turn to order, she winked at me. Why? Because when you smile a lot, sometimes a wink comes out with a greeting. It happens to me all the time. I stood there at ease as she weightlessly carried herself through my cappuccino. When a beagle popped out from behind the freestanding wall that created the cafe set, she gushed. Again, it’s a disposition know all too well. Whether you’re me and curious, or you’re the couple that walked in with long-sleeves tied around their necks (full 80s prep), this cafe succeeds at serving a wide range of whims with an authentic soul behind the counter and many tables arranged in front of a another freestanding wall printed with positive messages of which, one is the irrefutable gold standard: “good things happen here.”
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Drink: Small Cappuccino + Collagen
The process for this beverage is interesting: a scoop of their pride-and-joy collagen into a 12 oz. (yes, it was much bigger than expected, perhaps to compensate for the collagen addition) set onto the shelf of the espresso machine followed by a stir from a long metal spoon and a topping of milk—foamed in a generic milk frother—past the brim. On top of this captured cloud, she popped on some cinnamon. Honestly, it made me happy to look at. I didn’t even have to taste it. But after pulling the pink cup to my lips, I remained happy. The taste doesn’t change in any noticeable way with the collagen addition. Interestingly, the blend of Nespresso and the collagen is (unpopular opinion) probably the best. Nespresso is focused on simplifying the coffee process and ensuring that what is tasted is coffee, not the wide range of complexity that coffee wondrously has to offer. So, the collagen mixed with a base like this means that the flavor doesn’t veer off course. While I am not intensely familiar with all the health benefits of collagen (essentially supporting your bone, nail, hair, and skin health according to their sign), it as an additive didn’t taint anything or cause any averse bodily reactions. I have no convincing arguments against caffeination with a little glow.
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Price: Small Cappuccino=3.8€ (+Collagen=1.2€)
Hours: Tuesday–Friday {10–18:30}; Saturday {10:30–19:30}; Sunday–Monday {CLOSED}
Extra Notes:
Their business cards have a hot chocolate recipe on the back, and if that isn’t the cutest thing. It’s called “Super Chocolat chard ! Hot hot.”
The mall has WIFI, but it came to an error page (“404 - notfound”). Maybe it will work eventually...