Being 12:30pm, after enduring Linguistic lectures beforehand, a late breakfast seemed the only viable option to instil some optimism into my bloodstream. Their parcel-paper-esque menus are overflowing with classic brunches, and some slightly quirky; from personalised Porridge to Chorizo Hash. For those of you who believe McDonald's chemically balanced beige circles to be true pancakes, prepare to grovel and reevaluate your life choices. Deciding between the Berry Compote or Bacon and Syrup pancakes was like choosing your favourite child, simple. Ordering at the bar surrounded by blackboards and sugar, you don't feel put out, but rather independent, Indie even.
Arguably, I chose the best and worst seat of the house, I got the full frontal view of steaming pancakes sauntering before me. Berryin' hell. Stacked in the centre of a gleaming ceramic bowl, pancakes were all I could see. Smothered in thick Greek yogurt, their soft texture pulled apart to reveal a fluffy centre, where the berry compote slithered into a deep red sea, with the seeds offering a crunch to the texture - a dousing of Maple syrup only added to the ecstasy.
As we polished and perfected our food babies, the chilled atmosphere meant that we weren't hurried or pressured, instead taking out work and gossiping - Boston's relaxed vibes give you a social buzz that almost con you into thinking you are in complete privacy, whether you're sitting at a window seat enjoying a coffee break, or reclining into the sanctuary of the sophisticated diner seating.
I could barely contain myself from licking the bowl, but for £5.50, I'll be collecting gossip and studying more often.
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