Every morning I bypass a small cafe on my way to work. On their front door they have a sign up declaring, “best muffins in Melbourne”.

The first time I saw it, I went in to buy said muffin, only to be told that they were sold out.

Hmm, I thought, they must be good.

So I dutifully went back the next day.

I was disappointed to find that they only have one flavour on offer; blueberry. Whilst I don’t “dislike” blueberry, I just prefer chocolate, but I bought one anyway.

Eating it at work, I found that it was okay. It wasn’t the “best” muffin in Melbourne – although I don’t know what the best muffin taste like, I don’t think this was on that level – but it was soft, and tasty, and I could count on it being fresh with no preservatives.

The next day, I went again, and found that this time they had cinnamon muffins; it seemed that everyday was a different taste, dependant purely on the owner’s mood and preference.


It’s been two weeks since my first muffin, and I’m still going every morning.

I find that I don’t mind having my meals chosen for me. Back in Hong Kong I had the same arrangement for my dinner; a local diner would have a set dinner which changes daily and I’d just order that.

We live in a world where we are spoilt for choice, it is sometimes refreshing to leave the decision in someone elses’s hands. Because I don’t know about you, but when going out with friends, one of the trickiest questions we have to answer is, “Where do we eat?”