The coffee is barely meh, the "Morning Glory" muffin lets you know it's called that for a reason about an hour after you eat it, but, for me, there's no better place to get the full-on Park Slope experience than weekday mornings at Connecticut Muffin. Or, as I like to call it, The Cunty Muff. It's breeder ground zero, where you're practically guaranteed to see some public breastfeeding, or overhear 321 moms bitching about the middle school application process. (I know. I'm really selling it hard). But, what sets The Muff apart from just about every other coffee shop in the immediate vicinity are: the corner location; the large windows onto both 7th Ave. and 1st Street; and most significantly, the plethora of benches outside. Ideal people-watching all around. If it's 50 degress or above, I like to score a spot on one of the benches against the windows so I can lean my lazy ass back and count the MZ Wallace bags that pass by.
It's about as cool as a Panera Bread, and turns into a complete ghost town when school is out for the summer. Nevertheless, if anyone told me they had one hour to experience Park Slope, I'd tell them to meet me at The Muff at 9 a.m.