Look, you're reading this in the first place, so I'm going to get right to the point and give you some advice. Once you realize that there is a whole world of muffins outside the commercial evil of Starbucks and Au Bon Pain, you will not only have more friends, but you will come to appreciate a new level of eating baked goods, which - and let's be serious, people - is really all you should be searching for in life.
Upon first discovering the wily ways of a good pistachio muffin, you may be inclined to settle in at Café Java and eat the muffins there. Hell, while you're at Max's picking up your credit card from your blur of a night before, you may even think that a trip a few doors over to Bagel Gourmet Olé for your muffin is OK. Don't be stupid. If you want to experience the true pistachio muffin, you must go to Café Zog.
In an atmosphere that would please any one of you super funky Brown students, Café Zog offers respite from the mechanical workings of your neighborhood coffee giant. The tiny shop has clouds painted on the ceiling and worn-in wooden furniture - it even has a garden in the back for the sunnier Providence days. Granted, the service is a bit slow, but chalk it up to Zog's charm. Not that any of that will matter once you have a mouthful of green muffin goodness in your mouth. Imagine marzipan, slightly undercooked muffin batter and those drugs you did last night rolled into one, and you barely come within a mile of understanding how good these babies are.
I can understand not wanting to go to Wickenden when it's snowing. I'll even give you rain as a suitable deterrent. But how will you justify eating those other muffins if all you have to do is trip up Thayer on your way to the class you have to be at anyway? Your conscience tells you to stop being lazy and make the walk to Wickenden. I'm telling you to stop being lazy and make the walk to Wickenden. Listen to us.
- Leslie Kaufmann
