There are two new additions to the town’s coffee-house culture. G’s Artisan Co opposite The Round Church and Blank Street opposite Mash have both opened in the past few months. They each represent the extremes of the business: the New York mega-corporation backed by hedge-fund investment versus the small independent business; the polished formula, monolithic brand, and cult following versus the clumsy ramshackle work-in-progress. On its ‘grand opening’, I walked past a rope-designated queue for Blank Street, the shop being thronged in balloons and greeting staff. In stark contrast, I didn’t know about G’s Artisan until this week, despite it having opened in Michaelmas, and being very near my house. This all begs the question: which is better? With only a little eye-rolling bias against Blank Street, I went to find out.

“They each represent the extremes of the business: the New York mega-corporation backed by hedge-fund investment versus the small independent business”

There was an uneasy feeling about G’s Artisan Co. The shop is a threeway between a café, deli, and grocers, with a loose Mediterranean theme. In terms of decoration, it felt very much like it ought to be attached to a garden centre. I thought the menu looked very good, lots of things I’ve not often seen in Cambridge: mortadella, spanakopita, and the like. I’m afraid to say, coffee was the last thing I fancied – recovering, as I was, from a pub crawl – so I asked for a vanilla milkshake and the New Yorker sandwich. Somehow, vanilla was sold out. I ended up with a bizarrely named ‘coffee dairy’ milkshake, and all was well.

They must have 10 types of Gouda there, each a massive wheel. Shelves and shelves of dried pastas, pastes, and pestos, alongside panettoni hanging from the ceiling. I was eating in, but for whatever reason my order came in a plastic cup and on a styrofoam plate. It was a good sandwich – pastrami, turkey, tomato, lettuce, mustard – absolutely the sort of thing you’d see on Seinfeld. Yet, I’m afraid to say I’ve had better milkshakes. The liquid had sort of separated from the body, so that it was at once watery and lumpy. A bit of mixing helped a lot, and if nothing else it all seemed to make my hangover subside.

The view of The Round Church is naturally a boon, and the shoppers make for interesting viewing, Bridge street being the absolute Mecca of yummy-mummy shopping in Cambridge. I left, dropping my styrofoam plate and take-away cup in the bin at the door, as seemed customary, and went to work somewhere with bigger tables. Clearly, the food is the appeal. I imagine the other sandwiches would be fantastic. If I were to go again I’d have a focaccia sandwich, and I’m sure the coffees are perfectly good.

Later the same day, I found myself in Blank Street. I hadn’t heard of Blank Street until maybe a week ago, but friends, especially Londoners, seemed to know all about it. I ordered a ‘shaken vanilla bean’ matcha, with the redundantly described ‘dairy milk’, and pain au suisse, which, in fairness, looked incredible. You can tell, before even taking a bite, that there are teams and teams of recipe researchers behind the perfection of that pastry. I found a table, and went to queue for my drink. The man called out “Ryan!” before making my drink, as if to ensure I didn’t miss the show. Into a metal cup went the milk mixture and a bright green syrup, and after a few performative shakes, I was served. Bizarrely, much like in G’s Artisan, everything came in takeaway cups and bags, whether sitting in or not.

“You can tell, before even taking a bite, that there are teams and teams of recipe researchers behind the perfection of that pastry”

If you like matcha lattes, you’ll obviously love Blank Street. As far as I can tell, matcha lattes are the entire point. As for me, I remain undecided. I love vanilla, and in many ways it was like the vanilla milkshake I had been denied that morning, but grassy. It was extremely cold, not nearly as sweet as I feared, and a naturalish shade of green (or, in my opinion, Cambridge Blue). It being 7 pm, the pastry was a little stale, but even so, it was spectacular. I’m not sure there are many better pastries in town, and certainly none more attractive. So good was it, that for the briefest moment, all thoughts of arms investment, Americanisation, and hedge-fund backing subsided. For the second time that day, I threw my plate and cup into a bin by the door, and left.

Reflecting on these two new arrivals, I suppose each have a place. If you are a particular fan of Gouda, Mediterranean sandwiches, or imported pestos, there’s a new café on Bridge Street just for you. And it's clear Blank Street had a loyal fanbase ready before they opened. For me, I’m not impressed by either. Both cut all sorts of corners only to charge standard café prices. Blank street use automatic coffee machines, pre-made ‘matcha’ syrup, and both seem unaware of dishwashers and dishes. The classics are classic for a reason: I’m quite happy to stick with Bould Brothers, Fitzbillies, Nero, and the greatest of all Cambridge cafés, Trockel Ulmann & Freunde.