The Salty Dog

some mornings in scarborough, the sea air off the north bay hits before you've had a single sip of anything, and cleveland way is a good place to be when that happens. the salty dog sits right there on the edge of things, the kind of spot that regulars come back to without overthinking it. you get that sense quickly: people here aren't passing through out of desperation, they're choosing it. the loyalty is obvious, quiet, consistent. it's the sort of independent that doesn't need to explain itself. whether you're settling in for an hour with a laptop or just grabbing something before heading down toward the seafront, it holds up. start with the cortado.