Poison gave way to the staff of life once again, except that this bakery doesn't do much in the way of actual bread. I stopped by on a whim and they managed to rustle up a fresh baguette for me, which was very good when my wife and I wolfed it at home later. However they do sell lots of pretty pastries.
I saw a piece of cheese that would go well with the baguette while I waited in line and my weak and feeble will was overpowered by the prospect of fresh coffee and pastry. It had to be done.
It was not bitter, the coffee, and the pastry was sweet and the whim was entirely successful.
An anxious Cheyenne and I hurried across the street to the open air table at Paseo, the sandwich shop I recently enjoyed but that is closed Mondays and Tuesdays...lucky for me on Monday.
I spent ten years in an English boarding school, an upbringing that makes one powerless to resist anything that involves, for instance, custard, sugar or a thing labeled "sticky bun." it was flaky pastry sticky in places with crusty toffee dried on the outside. It went well with coffee while baguette ends went well with Labrador:
Three tour trains and trolleys rolled down Margaret Street and they all pointed out this house as the residence of the Cuban Minister at the time of the Spanish American War, or something like that.
I heard the story three times in three minutes. The pity of it was there were only four tourists trapped in all the vehicles passing, forced to hear the endless talk. And there was me and my sticky bun. Breakfast in Key West is as you make it.
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