Thinking of these things made me feel like someone has bore an ugly hole inside my heart. I felt very hollow. The only way I could escape from these feelings is to actually get myself moving and do something. So, on my first morning in Boston, I actually woke up real early to hunt for fruits. My mom once told me that 7-11 in the States sell fruits. Recalling that we went past a 7-11 prior to arriving Emerson College, the dorm where my tourmates and I lived whilst our stay in Boston, I trusted my instincts and went for a 7-11 hunt.
While I was hunting for 7-11, I stumbled across Thinking Cup, a coffee place. It was around 5 in the morning, so it was not opened yet. I made a mental note of the place because it had such an interesting name. It got me wondering, "What is a Thinking Cup?" and all sorts of phrases went past the flood gates of rationality. I got back to the hostel, waited for the cafeteria to open and soon, the Thinking Cup was sitting at the back of my mental storage, untouched and ignored.
Until, my second morning in Boston. I decided that I was going to venture out and find something to eat apart from cafeteria food. This way, I may get to know Boston better, which I did. I can tell you, Boston, before 5 in the morning, is a complete mess. The streets are filthy. Stench of overnight garbage perfume the city. Puddle of pukes decorate the sidewalks. Homeless people huddled up in layers a! fter lay ers of gurney sacks, mumbling to themselves. Sometimes, they would strike a conversation with you. Other times, they would tease you in a nasty kind of way ( I would hasten my walking speed and break into a run if that happened). I got both.
After 5, cleaners would wash the streets. Sweep the garbage away. Garbage trucks and collectors would ensure that the city would smell as fresh as the damp soil in the common. Birds would chirp merrily. Joggers would appear and do rounds. You would see some people bringing out their beautiful dogs out for a walk under the beautiful Bostonian skies. It would seem that Boston is the perfect city. But from my experience, Boston just had a M.A.C makeover. Once removed, Boston is like any living, breathing human being. Imperfect in many ways. Yet so perfect.
The iPad of the WSJ guy. I guess I must have taken his spot. :)
Peppercorn Turkey
Quinoa Salad, Rooibos Tea
Homemade Banana Bread. There is also vanilla, zucchini and chocolate bread.
Chicken sandwich
Pour over coffee (Means filtered coffee). They place coffee powder on a filter paper that was shaped into a funnel and pour boiling water onto it.
Prosciutto Caprese and Peppermint TeaBack to the Thinking Cup... Okay, second morning. I entered the cafe and decided to pack lunch. It was this decision that made me realized that in the US, the waiting staff ask for your name. And it is only polite if you ask for theirs.
I bought a Peppercorn Turkey sandwich. I was told that it would take some time. I sat in the corner of the cafe, and waited. I soaked up my surroundings and watched how the space worked. Next to me, was a beautiful looking guy in his thirties, caught up in the wordy storm of Wall Street Journal on his iPad. A lady in her PJs walked in, hair undone, face fresh from sleep, and on her right hand, she was holding a white mug. The barista, who was one of the owners, greeted her and they made exchanges. From the way they were talking, it appeared they had known each other for a while. Another lady came in. The owner told her that the cafe decided that they would come up with a new coffee blend (Thinking Cup sells really good gourmet coffee) and asked for her opinion. I observed the entire exchange between the both of them.
Th ese instances, made me feel the warmth that I was looking for. Suddenly, I felt that I was in this place where I had the chance to be accepted, like these people. Together with the amazingPeppercorn Turkeysandwich, with roasted capsicums, fresh rocket leaves, mild goat's cheese and generous amounts of lean turkey meat, I was sure that I would return. For the next three days, I had breakfast at the Thinking Cup to the point that I recognized the regulars and the irregulars. The guy who read Wall Street Journal on his iPad was a regular. :)
Anyway, Thinking Cup offered a respite that a home could offer. It was a private yet a public sphere. Private in the sense that "I knew this place. No one else does. I can talk to my mom. No one would understand my shitty Cantonese or my bursts of Bahasa Melayu." Public in the sense that there are other people revolving in this private sphere of mine. They are like planets that would sometimes collide with you because sometimes, being humans, we can't help but to pry what the other is doing, or what the other are talking about. An old couple actually eavesdrop on my conversation with my mom. I was telling her that it is strange being in Boston because it is 12000 miles away from home. The word 12000 miles was used around ten times in that one hour conversation.
When I had the "12000 mile" conversation, I was havinga quinoa salad, a banana bread and Rooibos Tea. The quinoa salad satisfied my vegetable craving. The salad was packed with fresh, baby spinach leaves. Laying on top of the bed of leaves were squares of cooked pumpkin, coated with quinoa that was prepared with a sweet and sour dressing which reminded me of pomegranate molasses and vinegar. An exciting start for breakfast. The homemade banana bread was not too bad for a banana bread. I would enjoy it even more if a pinch of salt was added to the batter of the bread. It was on the sweet side but great to go with the clean,! crisp f lavors of the organic Rooibos Tea.
On my third visit to Thinking Cup, my t-shirt, which had a picture of a latte, caught the attention of a barista who was working there. He complimented my shirt because it had a picture of a cup of coffee with a beautiful heart shape as the coffee art and asked me where did I get my shirt from. I answered that I had gotten it from Malaysia(In case you're wondering, I got it from Zara for around RM 30, :D). We started talking about my home country and after a short exchange, I ordered a chicken sandwich with cranberry bread, cranberry jam and cheese. My kind of sandwich because I love ham, cheese and jam sandwich. The bread was slightly dry. Nonetheless, the sandwich was decent. It was slightly tart from the cranberry jam, sweet from the leafy greens and the bits of chicken offered a good source of protein to kick start one's day.
I also had a cup of pour over coffee for the fun of it. I did not know what pour over coffee was and I had not have a cup of coffee for a very long time. I ordered the Gajah Aceh blend, which is from Indonesia. I felt that the coffee was as good as the ones I had in Melbourne. Maybe even better. It had a nice, nutty undertone to it and a tolerable amount of acidity. However, it was very potent. After drinking that cup of coffee, I was jittery the entire day. The effect died down only after lunch.
This morning, I went there again for breakfast. A new sandwich was added to the board. It was Prosciutto Caprese with harvest wheat bread. A different soup was on the "Soup of the Day" menu.
Yet, I saw the same faces. The guy who reads Wall Street Journal on his iPad. The guy who always dresses in blue dress shirt, with stripes or without, and always had his sideburns in a way that it is difficult not to remember him, ordered the same toast again. Same coffee. It would be his third time having toast. Like me, he always sit! s in the same spot. Then, there is this another guy, who, if I am not mistaken, was talking about some wine tasting event. This morning, this "wine tasting event" guy announced that he would be going to New York.
I had the Prosciutto Caprese because I love Prosciutto but did not know what Caprese is. Apparently, it is an Italian appetizer which comprises of high quality buffalo mozarella, basil leaves, tomato slices, olive oil, balsamic vinegar and of course, prosciutto. I loved it. Among all the sandwiches, this baby would be my favorite. To go with the sandwich, I ordered a pot of Peppermint Tea.
As I savored what would be my last meal in Thinking Cup, I realized that, I have became a regular myself. I knew the rules of the place. For instance, after finishing the meal, you have to put your cutlery and teapots in this special basket. Most new customers won't know this because they often left it behind. Also, if you tip, you get your dishes sent to you to your table than if you don't. Not only that, you will realize that there are two different people who ran the coffee machine.
According to Ray Oldenburg, there are benefits to these so-called third places. Well, from my experience, I can tell you that, what he said is true. Thinking Cup, which is my third place in my short stay at Boston, offered me the warmth that I was craving so badly. Not only that, it allowed me to adjust myself to this alien place. Most importantly, it gave me the opportunity to enjoy Boston, as it is.
Little things:
-Cuisine: Cafe, sandwiches, soups, hot foods, breakfast
-Portions: Generous
-Budget: 10 USD per meal, includes drinks and a hot meal.
-Ambience: Reminds me of a French bakery. :) It's dark, sultry... but it's really warm and welcoming.
-Service: Mostly self-service but the staff are uber-frie! ndly. :D
-More information:
Side notes:
1. I've gotten my results and am very happy with them. :) 2H2As and 1H1. :)
2. Done productive shopping for my mom and sister. I told them about it and they were beaming over the phones!
3. I actually used this post as my journal entry for the day.
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