Agnes Curran
All this talk about shoes made me decide I needed some more, so I went shopping in Ponsonby this morning. Mr Smith grimaced slightly when I came home laden with bags, but I pointed out that as the shoes were all on sale, I hadn’t really spent money, I had actually saved hundreds! He didn’t look convinced, so thank goodness he doesn’t know about all the other things I bought.*
Auckland is very blustery today, with frequent showers, so I took respite during one such episode. A good opportunity, I thought, for another café review (I have forgotten to do one for ages).
Decor: The kind of place your grandmother might have, if she was French and a tiny bit insane. Stacks of books and magazines to read.
View: Of Franklin Road.
Clientele: The place was stuffed to the gills! An absolute mosh-pit of local middle-aged ladies (and a couple of gentlemen). A tv-type person was there – can’t recall who. She does a morning show, I think. Rather convivial, especially as the establishment's popularity meant everyone was quite squished together. Makes eavesdropping very easy.
Poached Egg Barometer: Agnes Curran is a proper little tea-shop, not a breakfast place, but they have a delightful array of sticky cakes and sandwiches to choose from (and they do make coffee, too). I had a chocolate lamington. It was wickedly nice, and came with jam and cream. Such a cheap indulgence - the tea and the lamington only cost $7.50.
Coffee: I had a pot of Earl Grey tea, made with tea-leaves, just as tea ought to be made. Tea-bags are the devil's tampons.
Service: Very pleasant and helpful.
*Mr Smith - if you are reading this, of course I am only joking. Bugger off and do some work.
3 comments:
I'm liking the green wall, but those pictures are bloody awful unless someone intended a level of irony that defies the capabilities of my small mind.
Is that a roadrunner on the cabinet?
Klake - Kitsch is the new minimalism.
Llew - Probably. Everyone has a roadrunner in their house these days. Roadrunners are the new chihuahuas.
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