Nothing Fancy, Just Real Coffee and Hearty Breakfast

I don’t do food blogs. Don’t get me wrong, I love food, but writing about food is just not my strong suit. Nonetheless, since I was once very passionate about coffee (before I succumbed to the realization that it was responsible for my migraine attacks and for my becoming a bundle of nerves) I have decided to write about Real Coffee in Boracay. 

It’s a rustic, offbeat kind of coffee shop. Unpretentious, low-key, nothing fancy. It’s an open-air (with roof, no walls) bamboo and nipa structure tucked away in one of the obscure alleys of the famous island. The uneven ground (sand, stones) is its flooring. It is furnished with unassuming wooden tables, chairs and stools and the counter. (If you have read my other posts, you may now have an idea I have a thing for places like this.) By the way it looks, you cannot find an iota of commercialism in it, not even in the packaging of its famous kalamansi muffins and other delectable pastries. It’s like eating breakfast at home! 

Its handwritten signs and notices add to the charm. I remember that the poster of True Yoga may be the only one properly printed. It may have been printed by a pro printer but nothing compared to the commercialized glossies in other establishments. Speaking of glossies, the magazines they have may be the only trace of the glitz and glamour of the commercial world.

They serve the usual coffee selection: mocha, capuccino, latte, etc., but even their brewed coffee tastes great! A cursory glance at their menu will give you an idea that they want to serve you hearty, healthy breakfast all day long. They have yogurt, pancakes, brownies, cookies, fresh fruit bowls, bacon and egg, omelets, sandwiches and many more. Sorry, no tapsilog, tocilog, bangsilog, and the like because it is owned by a Caucasian mother and daughter team. On the few occasions I have been there, the Mom was always there, always friendly and warm to customers and making a point to make small talk to customers in every occupied table. I haven’t tasted everything, but they look and smell good. Yes, you can smell what’s baking because the baking happens right at the rear of the shop. 

So when in Boracay, try their coffee and breakfast selection and you will understand why it’s named “Real Coffee”. It’s located at the end of station 1 of the White Beach path, down a small alley. Although it may be quite a challenge to locate as it has no signage to point you to where it is except for the crude wooden signage they have right in front of the establishment, but make no mistake about it as a so-so place as it has become an institution in Boracay that has become a mini-destination for regular Boracay tourists and for first-timers who have heard about it.

(Jan. 23, 2012)

Olde-Worlde Breakfast at Cafe 1927 - My Second to the Last Breakfast in Roxas City

(Feb. 10, 2012)

It’s a gloomy morning. From the humongous windows of Cafe 1927, I see overcast skies hovering over the morning Roxas City traffic rush (predominated by tricycles) with the sun hiding somewhere. I believe I have right now the most romantic and quaint view of this laid-back place. The large window beside my table is as if a home theatre system showing me a vista of the heart of the city where the Cathedral, City Hall, Plaza, Ex-President Manual A. Roxas Monument, the Museum, flower stalls, The Chess Park with the picturesque river, bridge and city skyline are vividly visible. Where the inn is situated, I would say that it is my favorite street in the city. I am a sucker for non-busy, tree-lined shaded old-looking streets like that adjacent to Silliman University in Dumaguete City.

The only thing marring the landscape is the yellow billboard showing the smiling shameless faces of politicians... oops, stop and zip it! Sorry, the weather has infected me. And now it starts to drizzle but simple city life continues... This is my wake-up call that after here, hubby and I go on; we still have a long way to go to living a full life. This jolted me from my half-asleep-like stupor and got me moving on my feet. Got a handful of things to complete, such as disposing of our LPG tank (which is at the moment in the car) before I can leave this place.

I wish there’s wifi in Cafe 1926. But such a technology would be out of place in such an old-fashioned establishment. Judging from its name, you can tell, right? But the vista is just perfect to get words brewing in my mind. Maybe the non-existence of wifi points to the fact that this is not the right place to be doing online stuff, but to be writing my heart and soul out. An olde-worlde-themed Starbucks right in this location would just be perfect and would potentially be my favorite branch, if it were so. I guess there is just no viable market here for such coffee that is worth a third of the daily wage of minimum wage workers. But if I were to have a coffee shop of my own, this would be the location and I know that a coffee-lover friend would love the site too, even if it isn’t exactly a corner spot, as we have once dreamed of a quaint coffee shop with drive-thru facilities.

Sleepless in Park Central Inn - My Second to the Last Night in Roxas City

(Feb. 9, 2012)

“Turista ka ba?”, (Are you a tourist?)

asked a friendly young guy who smiled at me during my Cafe 1927 breakfast. I answered him with my usual riddling answers,

“Just for today.”

The Inn's Cafe 1927 where complimentary breakfast is served

And it’s true! Yesterday and two years and a month ago, I was officially a resident of Roxas City. But today, after a Herculean day of cleaning and a week of packing and throwing and selling away stuff, I surrendered the keys to our beloved Roxas home to the owner (actually, to our neighbor, as suggested by our kind landlord for my convenience). So I spent last night at Park Central Inn, the place I wanted to be in because of its charming location. It is nestled right at the heart of the city just a stone’s throw away from the Cathedral, the City Hall, the romantic bridge and river I’ve been babbling about in my previous post. Errr, ok, so I thought that that original post was enough to say goodbye to Roxas, but it wasn’t enough I figured. I did not plan this, but I’m afraid, it has become a Goodbye, Roxas !series. Blame it on the Cafe 1927 windows that pumped my writing juices.

The Inn's facade with the monument of former President Manuel Roxas

Today, however, I look at the city with a tourist’s perspective. So after breakfast I wandered off the streets to snap pictures of the part of the city where I believe the government and entrepreneurs can improve on to make it more attractive, romantic and a tourist magnet. As it started to drizzle, I had to go back to my room and go back in time. Yes, I feel nostalgic over my departure from this city, but what I mean by “going back in time” when I went back to my room is that the room is old, well at least, the setting right outside my room is eerily vintage. Inside the room, however, it was bearable, but it wasn’t exactly a posh place to stay in but at least, it did not raise goosebumps and my dust and allergen sensors did not set off, save for some bearable itch on my legs when I lay on the small bed and a short bout of sneezes when I woke up. These are minor compared to a place we stayed in Bacolod.

The eerie corridor to my room with its wooden floors

The inn is an old-fashioned wooden structure. The sound of wood floor enduring heavy footsteps jolted me awake from the elusive sleep I managed to catch. I had a terrible time getting some sleep, thanks to the place, my wild imagination, and my paranoia that no other guests seem to be checked in. If not for the back-breaking cleaning and packing up I did yesterday, I may have been awake all night. I actually checked the room before checking in and I even backed out. However, the regular rooms at the Midtown Hotel were all booked as there were only four of them. Thank goodness, I endured the night at the old inn and I was relieved to find out at breakfast in the morning that there were several guests, a Caucasian couple, some sales reps and even a Med Rep acquaintance. That made me decide to stay another night in the inn and give up the reservation I made at the Midtown. This means I can take pictures of this part of the city at night as it looks romantic when the night has fallen and the lights are on. But when I used the bathroom again and noticed the rusty pipes, I changed my mind again and decided to give Midtown a try. Let’s see if my writing fever continues there.

The reception area with the friendly receptionist