The gluten-free “apple cakelet” at Caviar & Bananas is delicious. Adorable, even. Almond biscotti and apple pie mooshed into the general appearance of something baked at Bag End.
The fast, free and non-password-protected wi-fi is delicious, too, but the parallel absence of wall outlets in the seating area isn’t. “Welcome!” says one. “Move along!” says the other. This confuses me.
But my focus today isn’t cakelets or wi-fi. It’s the place itself. The interior. Hard, white surfaces, bright lights, echoey and loud. Like the cafeteria in a low-security asylum. Urban industrial clean.
Is it advancing age that makes a person crave softer, darker, quieter spaces? The young woman at the table to my right is like a hummingbird, perched on the edge of her seat, sipping sugar through a straw. She almost hovers. Then she flits away.
Wall outlets would be wasted on a person like that, just as surely as a hot yoga gift certificate would be wasted on a person like me.