The first is Grigons and Orr, where the terribly chic sit on 1960’s vinyl seat on the footpath snuggled into hand knitted blankies, which are thoughtfully provided in an old wooden Schweppes soft drink box near the door.
The second, and far more wide reaching epicentre of all things black rimmed glasses and skinny jeans is The Auction Rooms. This is a café so popular that people line up in the street to get inside, being locals we knew that their skinny skinny legs were not strong enough to carry around their mop tops and the hipsters would have to have an afternoon nap, thus if we went at 2.30 in the afternoon when there would be no waiting.
And no waiting there was, clad in cardigans so that we would blend in, myself and Jord snuck inside, and sat down on a tea chest/seat and studied the menu.
A hip young thing sidled up to our table. I ignored her, thinking she was just another customer, until she bent down and asked me (like I was a 3 year old) what I would like to eat. That’s right this is the type of place where the staff dress exactly like the customers (oversized shirt, skinny black jeans, big boots) and they treat all non-hipsters as if we are some pathetic unenlightened person who thinks that being a functioning member of society is actually a worthwhile thing to do.
But I’m being harsh, the hipsters are harmless, and they make awesome food. After studying the menu for longer than was probably acceptable, and after being denied a knuckle sandwich (see what they did there, they are so ironic) I ordered up the apple and ginger museli
I think the little ball of patronising that was our waitress seemed surprised when I requested up a 3 Raven Black stout to accompany my breakfast. (Hipsters don’t drink stout obviously)
Packaging: Simple, stylish, perfect.
Appearance: Sitting on my table in a glass this could easily have been mistaken for a Coca-Cola of course hipster cafes don’t serve Coca Cola, so it could easily be confused for a Phoenix organic cola.
Smells: Eventhough I was in public I gave this drink a hearty sniff, of course everyone else in the café was so absorbed in themselves so didn’t notice the crazy man in the corner sniffing his beverage. It smelt of smoky treacle.
Taste: Tastes like treacle too but without the sweetness. It tastes like it should be thick in the mouth, like syrup, but it just isn’t. It has a wonderful roasted malt aftertaste.
Food Suggestion: Being an oatmeal stout, it was apt that I combined this with my oatmeal museli, and christ did it work well. I’m having this beer for breakfast everyday from now on.
In conclusion: This is a seriously good beer, Flavourful yet subtle and not overpowering, perfect for a wintery afternoon, or morning, or night.
Ranking: A Jug please