ArtÉr Kávézó

Photo from their site

As this week's deadline approaches, I find myself a couple hundred kilometers out from the nearest Budapestian coffee house. How like me to run away from responsibility, I hear myself saying. As I get into my usual daily routine of beating myself up, though, an uncharacteristic spark of initiative strikes me: they must have coffee in Pécs somewhere. Dammit, I say to myself, now I thought of that, I'll have to get out of my bed and take part in whatever silly antics it takes to get a coffee around here, and I'll still just end up feeling inexplicably guilty.

Fecske Presszó

Photos by Zoltán Balázs (name order interchangeable)

Hey look, it's the third week and we're still going. Let's have a round of self-congratulatory bullshit applause, Kind Reader, for sticking it out past the bare minimum of effort. Today's topic is Fecske, because the coffee house I actually wanted to go to was closed.

Mélypont Presszó

Courtesy of Emil Chalhoub Photos

Welcome back, Kind Reader, to the most amateurish coffee house review blog you will find on such short notice. This monkey has been hard at work banging away at his typewriter and churning out pseudo-Shakespeare for your reading displeasure, and I am proud to say that today's post is a shining second log in my journal of the slow, decaying orbit of a talentless hack's ineffectual dance around terminal failure. This week, we went to a very exciting place, and we're very excited to tell you about it. Exciting, isn't it?

Introduction: Caledonia

Welcome, Kind Reader, to Café Budapest, the premier blog for listening to a complete layman ramble about things he couldn't possibly comprehend. Having grown up on instant coffee drowned in milk and sweetened until it can hold the spoon erect, I feel I can rightly claim to be the authoritative voice on all things caffeinated. However, Budapest offers much more than just hot water and packets of Nescafé, and it may be that I just need to explore a bit to realize how ignorant I am.