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September 2nd, 2010 No Comments

 

I don’t know why I came back to Brasil for breakfast this morning.  Actually, I do, the wheat bagel I had last time was so good and the food looked solid.  The coffee was a  disappointment (remember the crater face foam), but I thought why not give them another chance.

Well, I’m sure you’re already shaking your head and don’t need me to tell you today’s cappuccino was almost undrinkable.  Burned beans and thick, bubbly foam. The barista, if we can even call her that, was rude and has no idea what it means to steam milk properly. At least TRY!

And, how….

Watch out, I’m about to go on a rant.

How can a place be nominated for “best coffee shop in Houston” and not serve whole milk.  AT ALL.  No whole milk in the joint. You can’t make a proper cappuccino without whole milk.

And the beans make Starbucks roasts look smooth.

Then, I ordered “breakfast eggs” (yes, I know they’re dangerous right now, but I thought I would just go wild this morning) and a bagel.  My grand total: $12.  Twelve dollars for eggs and bad coffee!

The staff must have been laughing as they watched me move from table to table trying to get a wifi connection.  Thankfully, a nice patron directed me to a corner where I could get online and complain about this poser coffee shop for 15 minutes while I waited for a holier-than-thou goth chick to throw down overcooked scrambled egg whites on my wobbly table.

No, the blonde priss is not pouting in the corner and slamming the keys as she types… but it’s just frustrating that I can’t find a cozy spot that appreciates the simple things in life: a proper cappuccino and eggs cooked beautifully.  I would gladly pay $24 if I could find that little corner of Houston.

On to actual important things.

 

This little hideaway, Agora, is more my speed.  It was also nominated for best coffee shop in Houston and is right across the street from the dreaded Brasil.  Right now I’m sipping on a Pellegrino, so the cappuccino on my next visit will be the true test.

It’s just so pleasant to sit inside this forested little nook that somehow is not stifling hot.

 

 

 

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