Posts Tagged ‘Thinking Cup’

There’s a new cafe next to the Common. And it has stolen my heart.

On a recent errand-filled lunch break, I passed by Thinking Cup, as I had done for the past couple of weeks, noting its cheerful chalkboard easel, propped up outside the door, advertising its French hot chocolate or a hazelnut latte with real roasted hazelnuts. After the post office and the bank, I decided I needed a treat, so I slipped inside.

And fell in love.

There is no shortage of cafes in Boston, but I had yet to find one that felt like mine in every respect, and was close enough to visit frequently. I like the Charles Street Starbucks because of its location (right on the Common) and because it was my friend Lisa’s hangout when she lived in Boston. (Now I text her when I stop in for a hot chocolate, and let her know I’m at “our” Starbucks.) But it’s still slickly corporate, and I’m an indie girl at heart.

This place is indie. And filled with soft light and dark wood and tables for two topped with laminated front pages of old Boston newspapers. It boasts a pastry case filled with delectable treats, a carefully curated selection of looseleaf teas, a soup-and-sandwich menu, and the perfect relaxed/cozy vibe. I ordered a chai to go, but I went back that very night after work and ordered a pot of tea and curled up and wrote for a while.

Of course, I can’t spend hours here now, the way I could have when I was unemployed – and it just opened in December, anyway. But I can pop by on my lunch break for a hot drink, or before work on particularly frigid mornings. And if I know J’s going to be home late, I can head over there for a cup of something warm and some writing time.

I think I’m always searching, in every city I live in, for its equivalent to the Ground Floor, the coffee shop in Midland where I worked and hung out and wrote and learned to make all my favorite drinks. I loved everything about that little shop, but what I loved best was that I knew everyone there. And they knew me. (Besides, it had a large selection of tea, an array of yummy pastries, mellow music, big windows for sunlight to spill through, and lots of time and space to write.)

Since I left Midland and the Ground Floor closed, I’ve been looking for its replacement wherever I go. In Abilene, it was Mezamiz; in Oxford it was both Queen’s Lane and the Jericho Cafe. In Boston I thought it might be Francesca’s, in the South End, but the problem is I’m never over there. And Quincy is sadly lacking in good cafes, and I spend my days downtown now, anyway. So I’m hoping very much that this is it. A cafe I can write and read and dream in, and where I can know and be known.

Care to join me for a cuppa?


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