Sometimes, typically around about 3 o’clock on a late summer evening, an old girl can get a hankering for a coffee. And an ice cream. The Italians (inevitably) understand these mature longings. Did they not create the affogato? A scoop of vanilla gelato drowning in a shot of hot espresso, sometimes an added splash of Amaretto as lifesaver. It happened to be 3 o’clock as this girl was ambling east along Wellington West, en route to the Parkdale Market when she spied, through the fragrant screen of pink petunias and hydrangea bushes, a little outdoor café.
There was something mirage-like about it. Was I dreaming? This place was a parking lot just the other day… but no, here, inside black iron fencing, were tables and chairs and pretty green umbrellas clustered around a mature maple wrapped with fairy lights.
And at the back, a little coffee and gelato bar lit with a shimmery chandelier and equipped with a handsome young charmer ready to scoop and pull and pour my every need. (more…)