CoffeeBeer >> Double Shot Buzz >> Copper Pot
Over the past year, partly because of the Covid pandemic, Sheffield’s city centre has been revamping its entire layout, reducing traffic in favour of pedestrian access, cycling, and general outdoor living. Some of these changes make it difficult to figure out, for instance, exactly which routes the buses take now, and also how one can actually drive a car into town -- for instance, to pick someone up or drop them off at the train station. And the post-lockdown explosion of new development is bringing even more changes. For a Sheffield resident who’s been working at home, say, and hasn’t ventured into town since March 2020, their first visit may be a little disorienting. Some shops and eateries have closed for good, new ones have opened, two-way streets have been turned into one-way streets, old streets have been shortened or blocked off, new streets have popped out of nowhere, etc. It’s as if the city developers just have to keep doing things and changing things, even if there are no people around to observe. It’s sort of like a rapidly evolving petri dish in a forest when a tree falls and...or, um, something like that.
Unlike the lucky souls who are working at home, I’ve been walking into town for my job since late last July, when cafes and pubs first re-opened for a short time. Back then I witnessed the closure of a block of Division Street in order to expand the outdoor seating area for the cafes and pubs. And then, of course, the weather became colder and more lockdowns ensued, and the outdoor seating disappeared. Now that we’ve opened again (and hopefully for good this time), and Sheffield’s record-breaking cold spring has eased into summer, the street tables in Division Street, between Trafalgar and Rockingham, are out again and thriving with customers for the Frog & Parrot, the Lucky Fox, and the Copper Pot.
As I hadn’t yet tried the Copper Pot, and it opens early enough for me to have a coffee and lunch before work, I decided to give it a try. Also, I was dying to sit out at a table smack in the middle of the street, sipping a coffee and nibbling on a salad or sandwich while defiantly staring straight-on at the traffic coming toward me in the next block. One has to take advantage of these little thrills when they arise.
Sadly after I’d seated myself at the cafe, at the table closest to the epicentre of the Division Street tarmac, I was told the lunch menu wasn’t being served yet, and I was limited to the breakfast menu, which is a little boring. Seeing as how I really didn’t feel like a full English, even after being told they could do a vegetarian version, the only other options I had were very basic things like scrambled or poached egg on toast. So I decided to go for a “breakfast muffin” with egg and cheese. I wasn’t really sure what my muffin would be like, as I was picturing something like an Egg McMuffin, although I’ve never actually had an Egg McMuffin because I’ve refused to go to McDonald’s ever since I was a teenager and discovered their main Southern California competitor at the time was far superior.
My muffin turned out to be a slightly toasted brioche with butter, scrambled egg, and melted cheese, so it tasted nice. When the waiter asked me if I wanted any sauces, I naturally figured he meant catsup or HP sauce, neither of which I particularly care for. English mustard, on the other hand, would have been nice, but accompanied by espresso I thought it would just be wrong, and mayo would be overkill. So I stuck with the basics. Still, that’s all it was, and it didn’t exactly satisfy my craving for something cold and leafy. But it was pleasant enough.
My double macchiato was served in a proper macchiato cup, and the presentation was properly done. I found the coffee itself a little bit boring, but sipping it in the middle of a city centre street could only liven it up. Sadly the warm humid day suddenly turned quite windy, cloudy, and cold, naturally because I was completely underdressed for such unexpected weather. So halfway through my meal I found myself lunging forward and grabbing everything, including the book I was reading, so it wouldn’t all blow away and down Division Street landing in either Devonshire Green or Barkers Pool, depending on the whim of the wind. But I suppose this is one of the yearlong challenges of eating al fresco in Sheffield...
Speaking of unique experiences reminds me of a recent email exchange with my Bay Area friend from earlier this year about the poetry of household sounds:
Rushing through my myriad spams of the day so that I can hurry off to work, I was a bit moved by the following one whose subject was simply "clean the floor". It's very sweet of the sender to share their poem:Related Links