Trend alert! Hating on San Francisco.
The latest complaint: $4 toast.
First, it maxes out at $3.75.
Second, I enjoy my “overpriced” toast each Friday, IF I get up and go to yoga. It’s a reward to myself. You know why? Because The Mill is fucking delicious, that’s why. And Josey Baker makes a great piece of bread.
I do enjoy some good self-reflection though, so this morning while munching on that extremely satisfying piece of apricot sage bread with brown sugar, sea salt and locally-sourced butter, I pondered whether or not I should feel guilty about my supposed “hedonism.”
Weren’t there happy and friendly baristas in The Mill? Didn’t I spot the owner himself schlepping bread along his toast minions? Was my “bouge-y” toast employing people? Seemed like it.
How about that $3 coffee I enjoyed as well? Having beenon an 18 Reasons tour of Four Barrel, I know that not only were the people serving me coffee happy and healthy, but so were the people growing it. If fair trade and pride in the product adds up to $3 coffee, bring it on.
I should still feel guilty though, right? I mean where else in the country would anyone even think about devouring breakfast for SIX SEVENTY-FIVE? Money doesn’t grow on trees!
Then I WALKED by the gas station. The line of vehicles flowed into the street. $3.63/gallon for gas? Saints be praised! What a steal! Cheaper than toast! Well, for one gallon…
I smiled as I continued my stroll home to get my bicycle and ride into work, burning off those toast calories.
You’ve got your priorities, haters, I’ve got mine.