A Short Cappucino and a Chinese Bun
RED BEAN. LEMON-PINEAPPLE. BARBECUE PORK. Custard. I’m staring at the display case debating over which filling sounds best on this particular morning. The bakery is packed, and Nick and I are the only white guys in the place - a sign that the buns are good here. And I love a good Chinese bun.
We had woken up relatively early that morning, stumbled sleepy-eyed through the hostel to get showered before heading up to Cafe Trieste on Vallejo. With a mostly wood interior and an aged, bohemian feel, it reminded me of the coffee shop I once worked at back in Seattle. But the baristas at Trieste aren’t too keen on bullshitting - you order, you pay, you sit or you go. They show affection best through a strong cappuccino.
