Feeling faint and in desperate need of some fuel in a neighborhood that I am only mildly familiar with I had surrendered to the notion that a cheap, stale convenience store coffee may be in my future (yes sometimes a girl does gets desperate). I crossed the street and headed towards the corner store at Parliament and Winchester and all of a sudden I noticed a stylish stature walking towards me. His silhouette was simple, no briefcase or bag but rather a bike helmet in one hand and the oh so sweet sight of a coffee cup in the other...it was although the java goddesses had heard my silent prayer. Before even opening my mouth he reached his long lean spandex arm and pointed across the street to the ultimate rejuvenation reservoir: Jet Fuel. As I walked in I quickly realized that I was totally out of my element....although I was too in work attire as were most of the patrons... my black dress and patent heals were a far cry from the clip ins and neon sponsored spandex crowd that popular this parlor. Parched, I lined up and within seconds the blunt barista behind the counter was sizing me up and down…with no menu or prices posted I did what anyone in my position would do… looked at the beautifully layered brewed bevie in front of me and simply said “ I will have one of those”. Serving up the most delicious coffee, so fresh and brilliantly bold with full fat farm fresh milk…my taste buds were flattered. I let out a sweet little sigh….ahhh I was in latté heaven. Oh so scrumptious and stimulating this spot more than satisfied. What perhaps Ki is to men in suits, Jet fuel is to couriers….an unofficial headquarters if you will... a home away from home, where after a long day of pounding the pavement they can play in private….but not for long....sorry cyclers…the secret is out...
Jet Fuel Coffee Shop
519 Parliament Street
Toronto, ON
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