02 March 2016

Café Crawl in la cité


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PAQUEBOT PAQUEBOT PAQUEBOT JUST SAUTÉED au-dessus de,
Simon
Went on a café crawl with whiteboi friend of the Wei, Simon, today. Felt it was time to reverse slum it a little. No mas amiga. Night before went to tacos and beer with a bunch of Weibordinates so got a little banged up, some 5AM stuff again.

Shit.

Whatever, texted whiteboi around 4AM, told guy we’d go around like 1, get in a couple hours of sleep. All good.

Woke up around 12:45 and went to station Sherbrooke. Banging some thuggathug on the 50m walk to the metro ha.

God damn, who the hell let rats in the house?
King of lions, who let these cats run out of the house?

First stop was the new Kitsuné in Griffintown. Shit, a chink wearing some vans thinking it’d be cold enough that the slush would’ve coagulated into a little white something that a chink could walk all over. Nah, snow was slush, and slush is satan. Still though, gotta always wear them pastel vans. So we walk through griffintown and shit man, that place is just ugly as fuck. Brute buildings making wind tunnels everything, shit just stuns the face. We got off at Squéaireh Veeck-toreee-ah oh-aahhh-cé-EEEE! and walked for something like fifteen minutes towards new city gas and a chink like what? First off, new city gas. What does that even mean? Some bitchass words appositioned; some bitchass kids and drugs. Ah, alright.

So Kitsuné du Lowney, as it’s called, looks exactly like starbucks, but more homey. Or as eater describes it, something like tropical mad men super hip, blah blah blah. We talked to the barista and he was like, yeah I read that and I was like whaaaaaat. Got a filter coffee, not bad. Cranberry chocolate muffin, pretty good. Nice stuff. Filter’s sweet and a chink got some wack soft spot for anything cranberry muffin. Probably since cranberry is just haihonggan shit, 太土了,大哥。Beli不成中文。 Yeah reminds me of some shit. All good. Add in some buttermilk and we feasting. So Kitsuné du lowney is a pretty solid third wave café. Best part, shit feels like a good version of starbucks. Bad part, it’s in Griffintown.
(Oh and some Quebecois guy was like, eye em str8 owt off compton. Maybe he was talking about Compton, Quebec. Should’ve asked. He wore flannel, as did his two friends. hmmmm)

Prochain arrêt: café tommy. So we felt quite girly and shit. It’s a nice place. Reviewers on the internet say it’s quaint, beloved, laid-back, communal. Nah man. Definitely not communal. Everyone in there was a yuppie whitie. Like bruh. Why can’t we see more chinks and shit in places like that. Shit. The décor was something like a cross between a ballroom, and new age studio apartment in a gentrified community and a hipster opium den. (Opium being coffee, but since it’s housed in a something known as “British Empire Building,” it actually, explicitly, straight up, pridefully, ostentatiously, punctiliously, ornately, exquisitely, adverbially screams imperialism.) Can’t forget to list the wack shit inside: 2006 white macbooks, random bikes???, patchouli, patchouli, patchouli, patchouli, jeans style shirts. Etc. etc. etc. My sweet etcet— Nice glasses though. They were like sniffing glasses at a bar crossed with a mason jar. Coffee was good. Honestly, I know nothing about critiquing coffee. Well, the aftertaste of my espresso smelled like a Xi’an urinal, but… Maybe that’s good? In China, it’s a compliment…

Third spot, we went up to Saint-Michel to get some extraction à froid à l'azote at Paquebot. Man it was cold out though. Also realized that le métro is best enjoyed alone. Big fan of Simon, but man, metro is one of those individual experiences.


I’m back on alert
I’m back what’s the word
I’m back what’s the word
I’m back in the third

So Paquebot. Awesome place. Best spot we went to. Simon got the nitro and a chink was sipping on some espresso. Also, every time an espresso is served Perrier needs to accompany it. Sounds pretentious, but holdat. It cost a chink $3 for an amazing cortado and Perrier shot. Also, it seems like all these third wave places use the same kind of glasses. Whatever. Simon saw a vinyl midnight marauders and got the owner to play it. Also, some beach boys pet sounds was playing.

“God bless the fools … all positive vibes!”

Shit, place was deceptively simple. Four long tables where people just sat and studied/worked/wasted time.

Can we play that back one time?

Anyways, we got on the de lorimier bus and got off at Laurier/ de lorimier/ fermier/ fermier/ chinoisier, fuck. So we walked about 2k in the wind to noble café. Nice as fuck walk though. Saw some family playing on the odr at parc de lorimier—some oak trees were the goal posts. Damn, why couldn’t I have been white enough? Sheeeet.

Well it was cold as fuck by the time we got to Noble, simon’s favorite. Now that place is cute. Tucked into a little corner across the street from station Laurier, noble is a cozy third wave café that specializes in serving local torréfaction beans and provides an intimate environ where coffee lovers may gather to indulge in the fine quality of the— It was a really nice place. Nothing more really needs to be said. Bought a bag of beans and got my espresso free. No Perrier though. Hmmm. Good ass job on the coffee though.

What did I learn?

Portrait d’un homme en train de boire son café :

Crack coke, crack sale, white niggas got mail
Might drop a baby line and call that shit Pastel
Walkin', livin', breathin', god, you know my past well




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