Saturday, 5 March 2016

"Pivia" Café Part 2: A Cup of Coffee i.e. Whatevah Written by Guest Critic Hayley Jean Parsons

I mean, it's pretty, right?
First guest critic Hayley Jean Parsons, the youngest of the four Parsons sisters. This is a little overdue, but here it is nonetheless. Part 2 of our Pavia (or as Hayley calls it, "Pivia") trip...

"It’s overpriced. It’s overhyped. It’s absolutely mandatory for every food blogger to have an abundance of photos of it (remember if you didn’t Instagram it, it didn’t happen). Yes, we are talking about your morning dose of caffeine in whatever form it may be.

Although it pains me to say it, I am unfortunately one of those annoying people who claim they "can’t be human without their first cup of coffee". Of course I can, it’s just my scapegoat if ever I am interpreted as being a raging bitch. Once I decide I’m able (and willing) to step up to the challenge of being a good person; I bite the bullet and buy coffee #1.  

My choice of coffee depends solely on my financial state. If I have money to burn, I usually get a double cappuccino. When I’m poor A.F. (seriously, it’s either one extreme or the other) I get a large "drip" coffee. Cheap. Effective. Boring as hell. And since we're on the topic, allow me to reminisce about the other day at Pavia, I decided to channel my inner Beyoncé and splurge on a double cappuccino and a muffin! Whateves right? They gotta know what they're doing! Wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong.

We forgot to keep a picture of Pavia's Coffee.
Close enough.
Okay so let’s start off with the muffin. Honestly, it was fine. I’m not going to let the muffin take the heat for something it didn’t do. It was pretty moist (cue the gags), nutty, and some would even say delicious. Unfortunately, I was too blinded by my coffee (or lack thereof) to even notice all of my muffin’s wonderful attributes. The coffee was overshadowing the rest of my order, and not in a good way. It was as if I had asked for a paper cup with a small side of coffee. It looked more like something made for a kid’s menu that only children under the age of 12 could order off of. Do you see what I’m getting at? It was so tiny. The tiniest.

I looked at my coffee, enthusiastically said "Thank you" as if I’d never been so grateful in my life (fake it till you make it right?). I walked over to the coffee station, sprinkled some cinnamon on top, grabbed a lid, and was ready to go…or so I thought. Some way, somehow, the lid was too small. I’m telling you, there’s no way in hell they could sell a coffee smaller than the one I ordered, but the fact that this particular top wasn't fitting means they must, and that is just obscene. The size of the too small lid tells me they are basically serving something up in thimbles, and to me, that just doesn't seem practical. I rectify my terrible mistake by fetching the correctly sized lid, and I put it to the test. This one needed to prove itself. My sister and I put the top on my coffee, took it off, put it on, took it off, so on and so forth until we were confident it was the one we were looking for.

This lid was definitely not trying to pull a fast one on us. This second lid, this was the lid for me. And, um, anyways. Then we left. Pavia keeps their original rating of 0/Harvey's for putting me in a situation where I am humiliated by having to make two trips to the coffee station."

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