I intended to write an entirely different piece today, but found my fingers itching to tell another story entirely. Sitting at my favorite cafè, my iced almond milk cappuccino sipped down to bits, I closed out of my previous draft and let it rip.
Titleless (for now), pure free-flowing thought. What’s yearning to hit the page today?
The many patrons who have sat beside me in the past hour alone are a reflection of the evolving door of characters that make up New York City. A group of friends, who may or may not be tourists. A family spanning 3 generations—grandparents who appeared to be visiting their son, his wife, and their pair of young children—one fast asleep in the stroller, the other a toddler who had no interest in the Italian delicacies tucked away in the Upper East Side. “What will they do when we go Europe?”, seemed to be the grandfather’s greatest concern. A pair of friends who appear to be at least 30-40 years my senior, a cortado for the blonde woman on the left and a cappuccino for the brunette woman on the right. I can help but smile when I think of my own life 30-40 years now, sitting at a cafè here in New York with one of my girlfriends—drenched in fabulous jewelry and dripping with even more fabulous stories.
“May I also just have a shot of espresso?” I pipe up to one the servers who knows me all too well. That’s the thing about supporting with your local businesses—you create bonds in the process.
This cafè in particular, La Bomboniera, my version of a “ you want to go where everybody knows your name” kinda place. I started coming here the first week they opened, having only lived a few blocks away at the time. I noticed the long-standing Juliano’s Espresso Bar (an old school Italian joint), had closed and now re-opened. New owners, a husband & wife duo both hailing from Europe themselves, have blessed the Upper East Side with their own slice of authentic Euro-heaven. My go-to order bounces between the cappuccino or the caffè shakerato (particularly on a hot summer day).
I came here daily, an escape from the apartment I lived in with two other roommates—while both were lovely girls, it still came with the growing pains of co-living. I finally live sans-roommates (my NYC apartment journey is definitely a story for another day), and while I’m now a few extra blocks out of the way, I still make it a point to frequent here as much as I can.
But to tell you the truth, more often than not, I simply crave the feeling of writing at café and sipping an espresso—can you blame me?
As my iPad battery hits 5% I knock back the last drops of my espresso shot. My cue to wrap up a very satisfying Friday afternoon jaunt.