85°C

About this location

A few stories people tell about this place

1. One morning, a delivery driver muttered under his breath as he struggled with a heavy box of pastries: ‘Why does everything always happen here?’ And ever since then, strange things started happening around 85°C Bakery. One morning, a delivery driver muttered under his breath as he struggled with a heavy box of pastries: ‘Why does everything always happen here?’ And ever since then, strange things started happening around 85°C Bakery. A regular customer claimed that his coffee cup levitated for a second while he wasn’t looking, and another neighbor insisted her phone inexplicably played ‘Happy Birthday’ every time she walked by. Finally, one day, the entire neighborhood gathered for a meeting—only to discover that the bakery’s thermostat was set exactly at 85°F instead of Celsius. The mystery solved, everyone laughed, and life returned to normal… except for occasional glitches in the Wi-Fi.

2. At dawn, a delivery driver whistled a jaunty tune as he unloaded boxes from his truck. But something strange caught his ear—a soft, sizzling sound coming from inside the bakery's glass case. Curious, he peered inside and saw tiny steam puffs rising from freshly baked croissants. ‘Mmm,’ he grinned, ‘someone’s been working late.’ Just then, a regular customer walked in, scratching his head and muttering, ‘I thought I heard someone singing “85°C” this morning…’

3. At dawn, a delivery driver whistled a jaunty tune as he unloaded boxes from his truck near 85°C Bakery. Suddenly, an announcement crackled over the store’s speakers: ‘Please be advised, our freshly baked goods are now available in rainbow colors.’ A regular customer, Mrs. Kimura, frowned and asked the baker, 'Why did you change my beloved plain croissants into neon-colored ones?' The baker shrugged, smiling sheepishly, 'Just trying something new.' By noon, everyone was laughing and enjoying pastries in every color of the rainbow.

4. At dawn, a delivery driver grumbled, ‘Why do they always deliver here so early?’ As he pushed his cart through the empty streets, an unusual aroma wafted towards him—something between freshly baked bread and something… oddly floral? Curious, he followed the scent around the corner and found a tiny window ajar. Inside, a soft glow illuminated a lone baker humming gently as she dusted pastries with what looked like glittering sugar. The driver blinked, then laughed aloud. ‘Maybe it’s just her secret ingredient,’ he muttered, shaking his head. Back home, his wife teased him for days about seeing fairies in the morning mist.’