There are few things I enjoy more than a leisurely morning. Each weekend, preferably on Sunday, I pause to sit, read and enjoy some good coffee. Throw in some charming company, ideal seasonal weather and a lovely city and you arrive at my little slice of heaven.
Unforunately, this type of idyll is conspicuously missing from the life of a university student. My weekends are spent sat in front of my computer, with a never-ending mug of red tea at my side as I try to find the will to churn out at least two-hundred fifty more words of an essay. Sunday evenings—when I try to put a ban on doing work—are invariably spent tying up last minute details from the week. Everything from sending emails to course mates and professors to reading and translating Italian articles gets lumped into that time.
For this reason, I make a concerted effort to carve out some relaxing time for myself. Enter, my croissant time. I’ve come to treasure the ability to sit down, get served one my favorite foods (two if you count coffee) and read. The only distraction is the clock.
Rosemarino felt like a calm oasis in the middle of my dead-line oriented brain. Walking in, I fell in love the place immediately. The decor is spot on perfect, with cool blue walls, wooden tables and a clean graphic images.
I think that I wanted the croissant to be perfect just because I was so enamored with the restaurant. When I arrived, ten minutes after they opened, it was completely empty, though not uncomfortably so. Thus, I got served quickly and was eager to break apart my pastry.
Until it arrived with a small dusting of powdered sugar.
Now, I haven’t discussed this much, but I absolutely hate powdered sugar. There’s something so tooth-achingly sweet about it, a quality that other sugars don’t possess in such abundance. A little bit of my heart sank. Then I spied the lovingly browned exterior underneath the white mask.
There was hope for this pastry after all, I thought. I gently tore off a piece and felt the shell give a satisfying snap into a deliciously buttery and soft inside. My heart raised as I took the first bite. The taste? Oh, butter glorious butter!
I immediately wanted to say that this was the best croissant I have eaten thus far, but as I continued eating, it became evident that it wasn’t a complete truth. Yes, this is a very nice croissant in Bristol, but the inside is just too dense and gummy to make it perfect.
The edges are the closest to perfection. Take the little “claw” bit, it has a satisfying crunch, perfectly crispy taste and distinctly buttery aroma. It is the most perfect croissant bite I have had in Bristol. But the croissant is not perfect.
Where’s the crescent shape?
That’s not to say I didn’t have one of the most enjoyable breakfast experiences. Even the cappuccino was noteworthy this time; the perfect amount of foam and a rich with bright and nutty taste .
So, would I go back? Yes, I would. I might not, however, order another croissant. There’s plenty of other delicious looking food on the menu for brunch, lunch and dinner.
Go to Rosemarino, after all, it’s less crowded than Primrose Cafe.
What’s your perfect weekend morning? How do you make time to relax?