Yesterday, E and I went to see a movie after work. My husband really dislikes the feeling of even the Starbucks end of coffee shops, so I took the opportunity to go to the Thinking Cup, which while not the fanciest coffee place I've been too is probably in the top 10.
I had a light dinner with a goat cheese, arugula and apricot jam sandwich on a skinny bagette and this coffee.
There is something lost when you get your fancy coffee to go, because part of the experience is the art, the beauty of the milk swirling with the mocha (and/or espresso). Flowers and hearts are probably the two most common images in the cup, but they are wonderful to look at and linger with careful sips throughout the beverage.
Of course, being me, I couldn't just have a light sandwich and a beautiful coffee, so I had a small tart with a flaky short bread crust, and a marscapone and nectarine filling. Hey, there was fruit, so it was healthy, right?
The movie was awesome. Horrible, sad, depressing and uplifting and funny in turns. Definitely bring tissues, because there are a number of scenes that are just tear-jerkingly sad. Everyone I know who watched the movie has been talking about it, because it is well done and powerful.
Now I really want to read the book, because I blew one of my rules of movie (and musical) watching. Normally I read the original first, so I know what is going on and the flow of the writer's original vision. Books, more than movies for me, are a collaboration between the reader and the writer. It is just a less passive form of expression to read the words and ideas than to see them laid out before your eyes.
Of course, the spell of a good movie could have easily been broken by the trip home, but that too was just about perfect. I caught the Ashmont line and got to the end only minutes before the bus, so I didn't need to sit at the station waiting for an hour or walking the 4 miles home.