Late afternoon—the sun is low in the western sky but still bright on the upstairs deck at Caffe Calabria. All around me are lush green plants, flowers bloom happily in their pots and baskets, a climbing vine clings to the side of the building, clumps and bumps and curious creepers edging higher along the walls.
I am alone on the narrow deck, three empty tables beyond mine, a white cushioned bench along the far wall beyond the heaters which may be used later. On the patio below a man and woman eat their pizza, their baby in a stroller next to them makes baby sounds. It’s not their pizza I smell, but the just-being-baked ones from downstairs. Downstairs the cafe is beginning to fill with early Saturday diners. I’ve come not for dinner, but for a late afternoon iced coffee. Caffe Calabria really does have the best coffee in my neighborhood and my neighborhood has at least six other cafes to choose among, though this late in the day most have already closed.