A Short Cappucino and a Chinese Bun

RED BEAN. LEMON-PINEAPPLE. BARBECUE PORK. Custard. I’m staring at
the display case debating over which filling sounds best on this
particular morning. The bakery is packed, and Nick and I are the only
white guys in the place - a sign that the buns are good here. And I
love a good Chinese bun.

We had woken up relatively early that morning, stumbled sleepy-eyed
through the hostel to get showered before heading up to Cafe Trieste on
Vallejo. With a mostly wood interior and an aged, bohemian feel, it
reminded me of the coffee

shop I once worked at back in Seattle. But
the baristas at Trieste aren’t too keen on bullshitting - you order,
you pay, you sit or you go. They show affection best through a strong
cappuccino.

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