Anyone who has known me for at least a few hours has mostly likely heard of my affection toward the city of Minneapolis. Some of my favorite artists, organizations, and people are products of the Twin Cities. My feelings toward the cities lie far beyond the depths of friendships or abolishing of slavery that I am a part of there, though.
I mean, have I told you about their coffee?
One of my all time favorite spots to get work done when I’m in town is Spyhouse Coffee. They produce the most magnificent latte known to man: the lavender-steeped honey latte. I typically am a hater of the froufrou drinks. I like my coffee strong and black (insert cliche joke about how I like my men here).
But this drink gets me ever time. Here is how I look drinking it (meaning, the man-sized mug does not leave my lips until the last drop of lavender has been thoroughly enjoyed):
Another establishment on my must-visit-frequently list is Common Roots Cafe. Initially, I don’t think I would’ve planned my day around a cup of their coffee. And then one day I made the most delightful discovery out back.
THEY HAVE A GARDEN! They actually grow their own fruits, veggies, and herbs that they use in their tasty treats. Sold.
This past weekend spent in Minneapolis was my first introduction to a new love though. I was walking around Uptown trying to figure out what the cloud of happiness was that I was inhaling. Not being in Boulder, Colorado, I figured it couldn’t be a dimes worth of second hand hash I was enjoying (although I wouldn’t completely discount the option, being that I was in Uptown). I turned off Hennepin onto 28th Street and was all of a sudden swoon.
He had me at hello. Okay, it was more of a “uhhh…hello?” when he noticed I had stopped walking and was staring. I suppose he was thinking, “Can I help you?” to which I was thinking, “Only if you’re not opposed to me going for a swim in your vat of cinnamon sugar!”
I had to ease the awkward silence. “Where can I get a piece of those buns for myself?” With an overly suspicious head nod, he directed me into Isle’s Bun & Coffee.
I ordered a regular coffee to go with my bun. When I turned around to get a lid, I let out an audible gasp. Their condiment bar just stood there, offering me icing. A huge bowl filled with gooey icing. I didn’t even order a cinnamon roll, but you bet your buns I took a healthy sized portion of that icing sitting on the condiment bar.
Honestly, though, have you EVER seen buns that look as good as Isle’s?
I will undoubtedly be posting about Minneapolis again soon, so for this trip, I thought I would just share my favorite coffee finds. Next time my buns make their way to the Twin Cities, you can count on some introductions to great music and people.
(And in case you’re wondering, no, the buns jokes never get old.)