Tiu Dropar - that's Grandma's tiny basement cafe to you and me.

For those of you who thought I was going to give you a nice little local to pop along to this week, I'm afraid you're out of luck.
Although my almost two hour morning commute does require a big glug of coffee at the end of it, I'm normally straight from train to tube to tube to work without much time for exploring. Let alone indulging myself in the wonders of a local cafe.
Today's post has come out of necessity and right of place, from my archives. Logged into the far reaches of my memory from all but a month ago. I'm like the coffee version of Giles Coren scribbling notes from a bygone lunch date. Except, I'm not important enough to scribble. So I just take mental pictures. I'm also not important enough for an expense account, so the bank of mum and dad picked up the tab.

Picture it if you will. A brisk morning, coats wrapped generously around hand-numbed tourists. It's quiet in this small town. The houses are yet to wake up. Their corrugated iron keeping their inhabitants warm and the winds from Port away. Colour dots the street amid shabby buildings and creative graffiti. Cozy restaurants are still dark inside, with chairs napping on tables. Polar bear heads, trolls and birds watch from glass fronted gift shops and expensively dress mannequins tempt you with warm jumpers.
We're in Reykjavik, the capital of Iceland and the city of the unexpected. It's the day we leave and we've decided to head to town for a spot of coffee and breakfast before heading off to the airport. As with most wannabe-know-it-all travelers these days I've spent a good portion of everyday scrolling through the reviews on TripAdvisor to find the best...or in Iceland's case...the cheapest places around. It's a challenge, granted. In a country with only 300,000 residents nationwide, I guess it's reasonable to up the prices per head. But still, £20 for a bowl of pasta? Better be laced with bloody gold.

We headed this morning to Tiu Dropar, a hot spot according to TripAdvisor. Good ratings and a rather quaint interior. We'd walked past it's basement windows several times, each time peaking in to see wooden tables and rustic-wallpapered walls. It looked like a time trap. Like your friend's Grandma's dining room. You enter and immediately feel giant in this cardboard box-sized cafe. Black and white pictures hang askew on walls, lamps hang and fill up tables and old-fashioned teapots line wooden shelves.
We took a seat and were greeted by a nice lady who took our order. Two bacon and maple syrup waffles, two regular coffees and one cappuccino. (Having indulged on fish and chips the night before, coffee was all I could muster at 10am).
It all arrived (the coffees first) in quaint little cups and on glass plates. Being used to soup bowls worth of coffee, this dollhouse sized cup of java brought a slight look of disappointment to my face. Ho-Hum, maybe a small cup is enough. Mum and I both tipped in a splash of hot milk and me a spoon of sugar. The coffee was okay. It had just a hint of bitterness though that didn't thrill me. A bit like drinking a watered down espresso. Alright, but not as soothing and mellow as I was hoping for fresh out the cold. Of course, I could have ordered a mocha and had done with it, so I'm partly to blame.
Dad liked his cappuccino, which came in a minutely bigger cup and the general verdict of bacon and waffles was good. ("Just needs crispier bacon" said Mum).
It's a little hard to rate the coffee out of ten, because I only got about 3 mouthfuls of it before it was gone. I did hear rumours of free refills, but wasn't in the question-asking mood. Definitely worth checking though, if you need more than a shot to warm you up.
Overall not a bad way to spend the morning. Instead of being the feet walking past the window, we were watching them, with the occasional head popping down to look in.
Go for the decor, a decent breakfast and a baby coffee. Stay...if they have free refills.

I'm back!

Wowser. It's been a long time folks. Just when you thought Caffeinated Ed was long gone, lost in the depths of internet Narnia it rises again or rather steps out the cupboard slightly dusty and disorientated.
Despite the Wanderlust, sadly I am not back in the wonder that is Edinburgh. Even sadder still, it's August and the height of the Edinburgh festival. After a year working in Orlando, feeling so starved of culture, you'd think I'd be crawling on my hands and knees to get there, batting things out the way as I go. But, as I have no current form of income (aka a job) that is literally what I would have to do. Crawl. Eating berries to survive.

But, fear not people! I have London on my doorstep and everywhere in between. For those of you that don't know, I suspect there are about three of you, London is Mecca for coffee drinkers. Someone's got to keep those bankers banking; those joggers jogging and those Hipsters hipping? And that is part of it's glory. With a ridiculous and I mean ridiculous amount of people in one very eclectic city there obviously needs to be an equally large percent of equally eclectic places for people to get their coffee fix.

Remember, these are Londoners. Over-worked, underpaid, sardine like people. They get ripped off everywhere they turn, from the extortionate rent they're paying to the slightly warm pints they're being served. If they are going to be ripped off for a cup of coffee, it better at least be a decent one. Which is why I am confident in my Londoners and their ability to build one or two hundred better than average coffee houses.
Just like last time, I am of course not talking about big chains. Starbucks can go buck itself. I'm talking about the independents, the artisans and the underdogs. I don't really care (sorry) what side of the mountain the coffee beans were picked from. Nor do I care what the "ideal" temperature and heating method of coffee is. Just make me a decent cup/mug/glass, preferably with a smile on your face and nice chair for me to sit in and Bob's your uncle, Fanny's your aunt I'm going to be a fan.

For those of you that read this blog last time, you'll know I'm not exactly a Hoity-Toity sort of girl. I don't like Hoit-Toit. What you're going to get is some little coffee stories written by a coffee drinker about coffee makers and the coffee they make. How does that sound?

And if that wasn't enough for you. Gosh such excitement. For my non-London dwellers I'm also going to be venturing to greener pastures. I'll be the Giles Coren of coffee houses. That means friends across the country and beyond be prepared to drink a few coffees (or you can have tea. I'll respect your Britishness) and get featured kindly in my reviews.

So stay tuned folks, Caffeinated Ed is back and this time it's king-sized.