I recently went to Quack's, its great. You should go. Like
right now.
If for what ever reason you are still here, perhaps you don't know what Quacks is, maybe you are being held hostage somewhere with internet and a lot of down time, or you don't like pie (in which case you best be leavin' before this gets ugly), let me fill you in.
Quack's 43rd Street Bakery in Austin might be my new favorite place I wish I lived closer to. It is a (relatively) small bakery that is open from 7(ish) in the morning until midnight and serves tasty treats all day every day to anyone lucky enough to stroll through their doors.
I stumbled upon Quack's purely by accident. I was 30 minutes early for a show, so I decided to wander around the neighborhood a bit. Less than a block later, lo and behold, a bakery! Filled with nice, happy, cool people and one homeless man (who could have been nice happy and cool as well, no judgement here). I strolled inside and ordered, as pictured above, a slice of my favorite pie and an iced americano and then quickly pulled up a seat in the corner to take in the atmosphere.
Over the next half hour, I realized what made this particular bakery so great. There were three things (excluding the pie because it isn't fair to use my favorite food in the world as a reason):
Number One: The music was at
just the right level, where it felt like I was somewhere upbeat, but didn't make me feel like the atmosphere was more important than me. You know, those places where if you don't stare at your friends' mouths as they speak you will have absolutely no idea what they just said due to the overwhelming sound pollution pushing the yearly speaker budget to levels like "We have to replace them,
again?!" or
"Honey.. you can't ask for those for Christmas. It's stupid."
Number Two: I saw four people hold the door for another person, and several people thank the cashier. Now, you may be thinking that those people don't work for Quack's, so why should they count? Look at it this way, most cashiers don't get that sort of treatment. I thanked the guy, I don't even know for what, but I did it. Both of them working the counter were just begging to be thanked. There was no panic to get people served, they just calmly, politely, and swiftly did exactly that. It was relaxing, and it being the first time I had been there, it potentially could have been very confusing.
Number Three: I really enjoy busing my own dishes. Weird, but hold on a minute. There is no vulture circling as that last bit of crumbling pie crust falls of my lips, eyes glued to my plate trying to judge whether it can get in and out cleanly without me putting up a fuss. The tables are always clean, as there's no plate hangover after the customers have abandoned their once best porcelain friend who held their pie for them as the peed. And lastly it makes me feel like a good person. Like somehow I'm doing the building a favor by taking the small chore into my own hands. Oh, don't worry Quack's, I can get this. It really isn't a problem at all.
Long story short go back to sentence one, and ask yourself, how did you make it this far? After that, on your way to that lemon meringue that has been calling your name all week, give me a call. I want in.
Betch22
