Caffe Vittoria

One doesn't go to Caffe Vittoria to work. One goes for pleasure. One goes for the cappuccino and the conversation and perhaps the pastries as well. There are no laptops propped on tables or coffee drinkers with headphones stuck in their ears. There is no pretension here and no championing of elitism, as so often felt in other cafes.  Caffe Vittoria has already won the race against time, having established themselves in 1929 and still just as popular. You can linger in your seat for as long as you like, and when you are done sipping your cappuccino you can stare at the walls, covered like a gallery with the institution's most precious memories. Caffe Vittoria tries to be nothing but what it has been for 85 years, and what it has been is authentic, satisfying and successful. 

The Thinking Cup

As humans, we form habits. As cafe dwellers, we build attachments. My own particular attachment in Boston is to The Thinking Cup. Two locations-one on Tremont Street and another on Hanover in the North End-make it all too easy for me to maintain this attachment and further my regard. But beyond the convenience of their two locations (Hanover street is pictured above), is an appreciation for the drinks they serve and the space provided to enjoy them. The combination of exposed brick and comfortable, tufted seating, along with tables adorned with newspapers of the past, do collectively inspire a beautiful union between my thoughts and the cup I drink from. So the name Thinking Cup is satisfyingly appropriate, almost as satisfying as what they serve so well. 

North End Wanderings

This weekend was chock-full of reunions, meeting dear friends who were in town for a day and playing host to another for three. Jonathan, my friend visiting from D.C., and I have had mini adventures all across the city and its environs, from worshiping the Union Square donut  to battling the cold rain on the Common to mastering the art of the stroll in North End (see picture above: Jonathan has had to teach me-I treasure my all too practical brisk walking method). Naturally a trip to the North End was in the works, so he could hear the mutterings of the older Italians and taste one of Mike's pastries and note Paul Revere's still standing structure. I liked the peace I found there on a Sunday morning, before the crowds migrated and the twenty minute cannoli wait. It's always extra soothing to find quiet in a place you anticipate the opposite. For that, the stroll was perfect.