Sometimes you feel like being a bit of a coffee snob. “Gloria Jeans? Starbucks? The Coffee Club? Pah! I want coffee from a unique, boutique cafe!” Get off your damn soapbox. Capitalism isn’t out to ruin you. I do agree though with the delight in a good brew that can only be found in a cosy little independant coffee shop.
I found this recently in Petro, a teeny tiny cafe that’s quite hidden-the only signs of the delights in store are a few pavement signs and some cushy seats and tables. Where’s the cafe? Go into the doorway, people. Hey, this isn’t just the lobby to an office building! It’s a cafe! Magic, isn’t it.
The chick (help me out here, PC-people…woman? barista? sheila?) making the coffees was incredibly friendly, giving some of the best customer service I’ve had in ages. She made a mean drop, too: mumsy pronounced her decaf cap one of the best she’s had. It’s hard to get decaf that actually tastes like the real thing-it’s often like giving a coke addict talcum powder. My regular cap was also damn good.
There’s a few tables inside, and quite a few outdoors-perfect for city people watching.
Petro also offer office catering, as well as sandwhiches, muffins, quiches, and the like. Now, as if finding the entrance isn’t enough of a noodle scratcher, I have one more for you: when I visited this place, it was called Petro. However, Google tells me that I was in fact high on this day (what’s with all the drug references in this post, just quietly?), and that I actually visited the Dancing Bean Espresso Bar, and that Petro is on Mary St. Please help. Confusion is not an attractive expression on my face.
What the hell-whatever this place is called, it does damn good coffee.
171 George St