Bristolian Cafe

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captain oddsocks
First Reviewer
4 out of 5
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1
Review
4
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Editor Pick

The Bristolian cafe

The Bristolian cafe

My guidebook described The Bristolian Café as "the place where the Montpelier counter culture gathers for breakfast, a roll-up and a cup of tea". "Could be interesting" I thought and resolved to keep an eye out for it as I was walking around that part of town looking for graffiti and works of stencil art.

When I stumbled across the Bristolian, its apple green storefront was glowing in the morning sun and about half a dozen people were sitting around enjoying drinks and a chat. I hadn’t had coffee for a couple of hours so the decision to abandon my wanderings for a little while wasn’t too difficult.

As you enter, there’s a low sofa to your right, a long counter directly in front of you and the main part of the café is along to the left. I grabbed a newspaper and headed for the end table. After sitting for a while, I remembered I wasn’t in the Czech Republic anymore and might have to go up to the counter to order. I’d planned to just have a quick coffee, but I felt comfortable as soon as I’d walked through the door and the chocolate cake looked amazing.

"A large white coffee and a piece of this chocolate cake please". "Av a sit loov, Ah bring it t’ya"

One of the reasons that I felt comfortable right away was that the Bristolian reminded me a bit of my grandmother’s kitchen. The food preparation is done behind the counter and the smells of sausages, bacon and eggs thicken the air. The floor is covered with classic black and white checked linoleum and the laminex table with the round corners and the ribbed chrome trim around the edge was straight from the 1970’s.

The Bob Dylan album playing in the background kept up the same theme and when the coffee and cake came out they were on pleasantly unfashionable and mismatched china. The coffee was quite good without being spectacular, and the cake was solid old school artery hardening concoction of butter, sugar and cocoa. Just what the doctor ordered (you to stay away from).

I was reading the newspaper for quite a while, but didn’t feel at any time that the staff were eager for me to move on and free up the table. The shelf of well-used books, games, and kids toys suggest that lingering in the Bristolian is a pretty common activity.

The Bristolian reminded me a little of an old fashioned corner milk bar; the type that was in every neighbourhood back in the days before supermarkets discovered 24 hour trading. The milk bars that I remember were a bit of a focal point for a neighbourhood, a meeting place as well as somewhere to stock up on milk, bread and treats for the kids, and it seemed like the Bristolian was playing the same role in this neighbourhood.

Call in there if you get the chance, and meet the Bristolian aunt or grandmother you didn’t know you had.

From journal Orright me Babber?

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