Renee Winarski
Google
There’s something charming about Guglhupf. It pulls you in with the scent of sugar and warmth, like a childhood memory you can’t quite place. The bakery is where the magic lives. The danishes? Absolute chef’s kiss, flaky, rich, just the right amount of sweet. If you go for nothing else, go for those.
The restaurant side, though, feels like it’s always in a bit of a hurry. The food is good, don’t get me wrong, but it lands on the table with the energy of a rushed conversation. You eat it, you like it, but part of you wonders what it could’ve been if someone had taken a breath before plating it. The line does move fast, though, credit where credit’s due.
Now, the London Fog. I’ve ordered it more than once, because I want it to be perfect. But every time, the vanilla’s missing. It’s like a ghost ingredient, on the menu, promised, but never showing up. After the second time, I stopped expecting it and started treating it like a recurring glitch in the system.
And let’s talk about the air inside. Cozy, yes. But sit too long and you leave with the smell of burnt air in your clothes and hair. Like something’s always over-roasting behind the scenes.
Still, there’s a quiet rhythm here. A good place to sit and chat, sip something warm, and watch the day shuffle by. Just… keep your expectations where they belong, in the bakery case.