This is about more than the cappuccino.
It's also about more than telling you that the rest of the world is watching America right now.
Dear Friend:
It’s raining in Florence this morning. What started as a torrential downpour, thunder, and lightning, has subsided to a constant drizzle.
Now that I’ve settled into a routine here, I went in search of my daily cappuccino. For those who are wondering, a cappuccino costs €1.50 here. Add a croissant alla crema for another €1.50.
I have alternated between three different cafes while I’ve been here. One is located a few steps from my AirBNB, and is undoubtedly one of the best pasticcerias in Florence: Buonamici. (For a history of Buonamici from Girl in Florence, go here.)
I kid you not, their croissants, pastries, and desserts are divine, and they are made fresh in the kitchen in the back of the shop. Their croissants are as soft and sweet as a glazed donut. They also have the best cappuccino, though most of Italy has incredible espresso and cappuccinos.
This is a spot where I typically have a quick cappuccino. (As opposed to a lingering cappuccino.) I might pull out a book to read, or I might read from my subscriptions of Substacks. Or sometimes, I simply people watch. But I never stay longer than 10 or so minutes. It’s not the kind of place to pull out my computer and write. But I love the atmosphere and the people watching. It’s almost always a rotating door of mostly locals, with a few travelers mixed in.
My second choice on most days is Santarosa Bistrot, a lovely spot surrounded by a park near one of the original gates to Florence, Porta San Frediano). Most days since I arrived in Florence, the weather has been beautiful and sunny with low humidity. Who wouldn’t want to soak in the warmth of sunlight, sip a cappuccino, and breathe in the scent of the many roses planted around the café while writing?
But that’s not in the cards for today. In the time since I began writing this, it has begun raining harder and one clap of thunder and streak of lightning made everyone inside the cafe I’ve chosen for today collectively jump.
La Cité is a lovely liberia café that I mentioned in an earlier post. A writer’s dream. You can sip your morning cappuccino or espresso while surrounded by books and other writers and creatives. It’s no wonder that this lovely spot attracts many Americans and people from all over because it has the feel of an American coffee shop before the likes of Starbucks took over. With its comfortable arm chairs, varying small tables and chairs, and many shelves filled with books, a writer feels right at home here as evidenced by the many travelers typing away on their computers here—a sight not often seen in Italian coffee shops.
That’s where I find myself this morning, typing this newsletter, contemplating the words I hope to add to my Danger is in the Shadows manuscript today, and watching it rain outside. Oh, and I was treated with a conversation the best of eavesdroppers would enjoy. I very nearly joined in with a couple of British students and a professor who were discussing what the American president was doing to the stock market and their theories (and conspiracy theories) as to why he was doing many of the things he’s doing. It was a fascinating conversation because they were clearly having it based on how they expected decisions being made in America will affect them.
Getting out in the world gives us perspectives we might not get hanging out near our own homes in our own country.
I am always willing to have a political conversation, but that is not the purpose of this newsletter, so I will leave it at this: the rest of the world is watching America, they have opinions about what is going on in America and the decisions that America is making that affects them, and they care. They care a lot.
A couple of nights ago, I attended a pasta making class. Yes, it was as fun and educational as one might hope it to be. I learned to make spinach and ricotta filled ravioli sautéed in butter and sage. (È stats delizioso!) And we made spaghetti in an artichoke cream sauce. While making pasta was the point, learning to peel and chop fresh artichokes was also educational for me.
Anyway, my point to telling you this is to tell you that my class was filled with three Americans, a couple of Canadians, and a couple of French citizens, who were all lovely. As we sat around a lovely table and enjoyed our two dishes plus the strawberry tiramisu, the subject of American politics came up. It was really the first time anyone had mentioned anything to me about American politics since I arrived. We didn’t dwell on the subject. We had more important things to discuss like comparing Italian wines to French wines and other places we must travel. But I will repeat the point I made above: the rest of the world is watching America closely. And they care. A LOT.
I’m going to end this newsletter for now. I have a novel to finish writing. And I need to fit in a trip to a cheese shop before they close from 1 to 4 for lunch and riposo.
For everyone who has stopped by to read and/or comment on these newsletters, thank you. It has been a joy for me to give you small insights into what I’m doing, and why I’m doing it.
Until next time,
Heather
P.S. Make sure you’re subscribed. I’ll likely be writing this newsletter more frequently over the next couple of weeks as I experience life in Florence, Italy, and as I finish the fourth book of the Paynes Creek series.
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