Hard to Love

Chapter 7 - Spot Cafe

I'm the first to arrive.

I find a table next to a series of tall windows. The Sunday afternoon sunshine lights up the long and narrow space, bouncing off the wooden panelling on the opposite side. Black and white prints of iconic New York landmarks frame the walls. In the corner, there's an aesthetic plant wall, with two rows of hanging droopy succulents. The room feels cozy even with the modern decor, and I shuffle into a seat that puts me back to back with the table behind me.

Just seconds later, I see someone walk through the front door. He's tall, with brown curly hair that he wears cropped close to his head. He's wearing a dark blue Polo shirt that suits his broad shoulders. He sees me watching him and starts walking in my direction. I like the way his eyes soften, and I smile.

"Sierra, right?" he asks, flashing me a wide grin.

"Yeah," I stand up to give him a quick hug. "How are you?"

"Good good, sorry I was a bit late."

"Oh no worries at all," I reassure him. "I just got here too."

We take turns making introductions because making quick chit chat about our week. After a few minutes, his eyes fall on the menus in front us.

"Have you gotten a chance to look at the food yet?" He picks up his menu and flips it open, eying the long list of dessert options. "I've heard really good things about this place."

I flip open mine as well and I'm instantly drawn to the pictures. There's a chocolate matcha lava cake on the center of the page, with thick dark chocolate oozing from its core. There's another picture of what looks like to be a house plant, but it's filled with berries and oreo crumbs where there would normally be dirt. My mouth starts watering just from looking at another invention that they call a "Cookie Camp," with what looks to be an actual cooking pan stuffed with cookies and marshmallows, with a big glob of vanilla ice cream on top. And this was only the first page. The rest of the menu is brimming with other cookies, pastries, and sweet guilty pleasures.

We ultimately decide on one of their signature dishes, the matcha lava cake. With our spoons at the ready, we eyed our dessert eagerly by the time the waitress arrived with our plates. He lets me have the first bite, and I gingerly break open the mini cake in half, oohing and ahhing as the chocolate slowly escapes from its creamy chocolate ramiken. I let the flavours dance in my mouth and I can barely speak as I try to process the swirl of sweet, earthy, and nutty combinations. It tastes heavenly, just the perfect level of sweetness without being too much.

"So I take that you really like it?" Mark asks, chuckling at my fascination. He takes a bite, licking his spoon clean with a melodramatic flourish.

"So. Freaking. Good," I emphasize, licking my lips to catch any fragments of leftover chocolate. "I honestly have no words. Thank you for showing me this place."

"Anytime," he says cooly.

"This is probably one of the best desserts I've had in the city so far, honestly," I exclaim.

"Would you consider yourself a bit of a foodie then?" He cocks his head.

"A bit?" I giggle. "More like a lot! I eat out basically every meal that I can."

"That's incredible."

I pull up Google Maps on my phone and swivel my screen around to show him. I zoom out so the whole of Manhattan fits on the tiny surface, dotted with mini clusters of green flags on the major neighborhoods. There was probably more green than map space from all the places I had highlighted.

"So I mark every bar or restaurant I want to go to with a flag," I start to explain, zooming in our location to show him some of the spots I marked closeby. "Whenever a friend recommends a restaurant or I read about someplace cool on a food blog, I add it to the map."