The London cafe culture is just enchanting.
I can’t seem to step into another period building without losing myself in the oozing warmth and quaint comfort. With a good cappuccino, I’m snug as a bug in a rug. Please don’t laugh now. I’m currently still in a daze; an emotional and slightly hopeless one, nothing to do with jet lag, which I discovered has almost zero effect on me. Nostalgia is coursing through my system as I write this, after my family’s flight back from London. I’m already missing the nooks, cobblestones, wooden supports, the oddballs, the outlandish, the wonderful camaraderie.
I stepped into Le Pain (which means bread) twice during my stay, as the charm and popularity of the place was irresistible.
The mochaccino had the perfect amount of sweetness from the mocha, though it gave me a weird albeit slight wave of queasiness afterward. The sweetness intensity slowly creeped up as I sipped through the crema. The caffeine didn’t hit hard on the palate either. The scone was a decent little thing with enough give to retain a hold but without exploding into a mound of brittle flakes. That jam was divine, too. The only bad thing is that you might just be on the verge of becoming morbidly obese if you have the entire 10-pound scone to yourself.
Le Pain Quotidien
18 Great Marlborough St, London