As is usually the case with bakeries, the best time to visit is the morning when the shelves are stacked with freshly baked goods, some of which have run out if you get there later in the day.
This morning is fine, with a threat of showers, but for now the sun is out and the warmth of spring is in the air.
Watson's Bakery in Shaw Street is well stocked with an impressive display of pies and pastries, cakes and buns. I am going on a journey today so provisions are required for me and my travelling companions and it's so early this morning I am the only one in the shop so far.
"Give's 4 sausage rolls," I say and the shop lady puts them in a white paper bag.
"And a half dozen scones, and can I get 2 coconut icing buns and 2 of the chocolate ones and . . . "
A man strolls in and surveys the counter. After a moment he interrupts.
"Hey, you sell tuna and cheese melt and a chicken baguette?" he asks in a strong eastern European accent.
He's in his late 20s, has a high receding hairline and is wearing a tight fitting sweater and joggies. On his bare feet are flip-flop summer sandals.
I look at him thinking, ha ha, you'll be lucky.
The shop lady stops mid-way putting the icing buns into the bag.
"What is it son?"
He calls in Polish to his companions who are waiting and talking outside on the pavement. A very tall slim girl, whose height is extended further by the high stiletto heels of her over-the-knee black leather boots, is examining a newspaper with another boy and girl. She flicks her long black hair and calls back to him sharply.
"You do tuna melt, huh?" he asks in a surly sort of way.
"Naw son, nothin like that in here," says the shop lady, putting my bags together on the glass counter.
He strolls out and she calls after him, "Maybe try the wee dairy round the corner."