Because I’m writing this on St. Paddy’s Day, and I really don’t feel like dining out at some restaurant at the moment, I’m gonna present you guys with a blast from the past. This is a homage to one of the greatest Cafes that I’d ever been to. The quality consistent, the Latte artwork beautiful, and the service…well let’s just say the owner was working there literally 7 days a week to no end. He looked so tired that I could pretty much feel the stench of death overcoming him, but man could he make a good Latte. And considering how tired he was, he was pretty personable. At least more than I ever would be at that point.
Sadly this wonderful place is now gone with the wind, (the owner probably sold it due to burn-out). But let’s cherish the times now gone, and revel in the work of this forgotten, under-appreciated artist.
I remember this place vividly. I stumbled upon it randomly when I was having a really crappy day, and I was just thinking to myself I’m gonna go into the first place I see and they BETTER be able to make me feel better somehow!!
I opened the door and let the soft lights hanging overhead engulf me in their white light. Soft dark leather couches, dark chairs and tiled floor. A beautiful, minimalistic and classy joint. It’s the kind of place you’d share an intimate moment in. I stepped up to the counter and ordered my drink.
“There were a lot of weird complications I was going through at that time, but coming there at the end of the day made things simple.”
Upon seeing a flower blossom in the paper cup that held my Latte, I smiled. I mean like a genuine smile. For the first time in like a month. This place became my little refuge for the next 2-3 weeks that followed, and I revelled in sharing the company and occasionally shooting the shit with a service worker that was as burned out as I was at the time (I was pulling 7 day weeks for almost 2 months or so at that point). There were a lot of weird complications I was going through at that time, but coming there at the end of the day made things simple. I loved that they also kept a few chairs outside, and on the gorgeous sunny days of summer 2010, I would just chill and watch the people go by, in my own space immune to the constraints of stress and time. The kind of feeling a real Café should give someone.
The man behind the Espresso machine really knew his stuff. He was largely self-taught, and I really think he could’ve won competitions if he entered into them. A Latte-making Van Gogh.
So here’s to a great artist, sadly under-appreciated, and under-rated. Hope you’re spinning flowers, hearts, tidal waves, and cats in Latte cups elsewhere.