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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My guess was that their selection of baked goods would change depending on the products provided to them by their local supplier. Hotti Biscotti and Donut Monster were in charge of biscotti and elaborately-glazed donuts respectively, while I presume that scones and danishes were derived elsewhere. These were stored within covered glass containers, of which pink markings informed me that they were being sold at $2.95 apiece.
Lemon Cranberry was my first pick, though the Maple Oat Scone ultimately succeeded in steering me away from the more classic option. It was brought out on a white, oval ceramic plate. Though not the most flattering shape nor material choice (it was super glare-prone), the whiteness complimented the faded beige hints of the oat topping.
And crumbly as it was, the maple glaze kicked in at the right moments to provide just enough sweetness to the otherwise bland and flour-laden mid-morning snack.
Lemon Cranberry was my first pick, though the Maple Oat Scone ultimately succeeded in steering me away from the more classic option. It was brought out on a white, oval ceramic plate. Though not the most flattering shape nor material choice (it was super glare-prone), the whiteness complimented the faded beige hints of the oat topping.
And crumbly as it was, the maple glaze kicked in at the right moments to provide just enough sweetness to the otherwise bland and flour-laden mid-morning snack.
I particularly enjoyed the space: mellow, unobtrusive music played from several small speakers stocked around the cafe, Wi-Fi was password-secured and stable, and service was courteous. My only suggestions would be to add outlets near the smaller tables as well, for I was only able to spot a duo near the marble communal table, and enforce hygiene. Throughout the duration of stay, it became necessary to swat away at flies every few minutes. Towards the end, I also endured a shocking, not-so-lovely experience of dying bee rudely descending on my lap. This consequently caused reflexes to kick in and a high-pitched yelp to be released.
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The cafe is mostly accessible with the exception of its washroom. Behind a rickety tan door are creaking wooden steps that lead down towards a single stall washroom, and an unrenovated basement area complete with washing machine.
Should I ever find myself journeying around the area again, Pinecone Coffee would unquestionably be my study place of choice. It's comfortable, spacious, and well-lit - all crucial elements for enabling one to feel productive and at ease. Prices are a tad hefty, through reflective of its atmosphere and quality. (Bonus points were attained for convenient hours of operation.)
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