Morning meetings tend to strike a chord in my system that I never realized the prior existence of. They're oddly energy-intensive, with consumption levels dependent on the party(ies) you interact with. Having to engage in a strenuous early morning class (that I honestly wanted no part in) in the time slot before also didn't make for the most ideal plan.
This said meeting had landed in the vicinity of Hamilton GO Centre, opening up opportunities to explore the area I normally wouldn't have bothered commuting to.
I had conducted a brief survey of the area the night before: Pinecone Coffee Co, a cafe located just south of the transit terminal, seemed worth checking out.
This said meeting had landed in the vicinity of Hamilton GO Centre, opening up opportunities to explore the area I normally wouldn't have bothered commuting to.
I had conducted a brief survey of the area the night before: Pinecone Coffee Co, a cafe located just south of the transit terminal, seemed worth checking out.
While Finch on Locke was dim, Pinecone was brimming with light - they were, essentially, yin and yang cept a few minor aspects. High ceilings, several small tables, and a communal marble seating arrangement made up the majority of Pinecone's interior. Several potted plants garnished the water dispenser area and lent streaks of grassiness here and there.
I arrived feeling drained, but determined to continue slaving through papers for my afternoon classes. The girl at the cashier acknowledged my presence immediately with blindingly brilliant smile, akin to the sunny temperatures outside.
She observed my hesitation and asked if I had any particular questions about the menu. In actuality, their range of offerings and associated prices had been laid out in the most easy-to-understand manner possible - there was even a separate board for iced beverages.
I arrived feeling drained, but determined to continue slaving through papers for my afternoon classes. The girl at the cashier acknowledged my presence immediately with blindingly brilliant smile, akin to the sunny temperatures outside.
She observed my hesitation and asked if I had any particular questions about the menu. In actuality, their range of offerings and associated prices had been laid out in the most easy-to-understand manner possible - there was even a separate board for iced beverages.
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Specific names of beans and roasts were noted on one pillar as well, somewhat like Rocanini. My knowlege of coffee doesn't extend past the basic levels of blends though, so I neglected most of that information for the purpose of my order choice(s).
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I opted for an Iced Spanish Latte, which was an interesting twist with condensed milk and cinnamon in place of milk and sugar. The result was smooth and creamy, with just a hint of spice to exude fall vibes. And, intentional or not, the gradient contributed to its mild aesthetical appeal.
The single ice cube was also immensely appreciated, as it allowed the caffeinated drink to maintain its chill while I sipped at it over a one-to-two-hour period. (Both the cashier and I agreed: Starbucks shovels too much ice into their iced drinks.)
The single ice cube was also immensely appreciated, as it allowed the caffeinated drink to maintain its chill while I sipped at it over a one-to-two-hour period. (Both the cashier and I agreed: Starbucks shovels too much ice into their iced drinks.)
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