Man, what a place to start your Saturday.
Entering to close quarters, one's forced to check the bluster and ego at the door. A symbiosis of stillness and social subtleties.
As the weather beckoned my seat outside, much was to celebrate. Sharing in conversation with those around me, learning from Ruth, and witnessing somebody enjoy a pair of cigarettes over coffee. This isn't uppity, it isn't grimey, it's in the pocket. If you will, nomadic. The right amount of each portion, nothing more.
Opting for a "Mini Breakfast Special" with a waffle replacing the coffee is the perfect kickstart for any non-bean addict. Frankly by waffle time, the finale, I was in a cocoon of tranquility. Due to this state, syrup was forgotten for my first few bites. Still hit. Hit even harder once I drizzled that dark brown elixir over top.
One last little anecdote of note. Pulpy orange juice is notoriously discriminated against and I hate it. The Nomad hates that too. Just delightful to be backed in this claim to regain tasty OJ! read more