Zuivere Koffie - Amsterdam
- Rosy Vineyard
- Oct 12, 2020
- 2 min read
What time is it, do I need to leave yet? My hand moves towards my bag to check the time on my phone. Shit Anna, no! I am on a one-week phone diet for this funky class called “People Skills”, so the screens must be stowed all morning. “Oh jee, it is nearly eleven” I hear an old lad say on my left. You see, An, you don’t need the stupid device. You need your caffeine and a nice book.
My morning started two hours before this moment with a fine yoga practice in my new city. I get a little dreamy from those sessions. I feel a happy lightness and see everything brighter; the perfect attitude to evaluate a coffee café. Zuivere Koffie is not new to me, I visited before with the same India-friend I wrote about before. I just couldn’t quite remember the details, such as its gorgeous stained-glass window façade. As I stand in front of the entrance, I spot café cat Sammie (I think that was his name) in the window frame. I walk inside and see myself: a young woman holds on tight to her cup as she loses herself in some newspaper article, slightly hidden behind her long hair.
I am always picky in choosing a place to sit and today it is on top of the stairs at the round table with circled mosaic patterns. From there I can see the chessboard pattern on the floor and I can overhear the broad scope of conversation topics the kitchen ladies like to cover: from cabaret to corona and then back to the date cakes they are baking. I order a cappuccino with cow milk and turn around to see a rained-on courtyard. Lovely, but not today. “How about the chocolates, are they for sale?” I ask. The woman says I can just grab one. Well that’s a first, whoohoo. I touch the flower on my table in its dented vase whilst watching a handsome guy walking in with his mom. They order apple pie and act surprised when they see whipped cream allover. “That is a little big” a high voice sounds, but I can see she doesn’t mind.
It’s pouring outside. Sammie doesn’t mind and starts exploring the garden with his big furry embodiment of play. Crunch, the first bite in my French toast. I get to stay inside, lucky me.
Have a warm and cosy week,
Comments