Thanks, Mrs. Borrelli

So I had a rough couple of days. Nothing earth-shattering, just those days where it’s hard to keep your mind straight because of some issues, here and there.

A friend (Joe) who has a studio a hundred feet from my studio (down the hall and up a flight of stairs) offered me a cup of coffee. He just bought himself a stellar espresso machine and was well on his way to match any shot from any decent coffee shop pretty much anywhere. I was happy to accept.

We talked – about this and that – some about my concerns, some about coffee, some about lighting and photography, about the view…

And then he brought out a small loaf, he said, “my mom made this”.

Mrs. Borrelli, his mom, came to Canada from Italy, gosh, in the 1960s? She never got around to learning much English. I have met her before and she is lovely.

And my goodness can she bake. It’s not biscotti. It’s too soft. Joe couldn’t remember what it was called, but he sliced off a couple of pieces for the two of us and we enjoyed it with our coffee. Apparently she sweetens it with honey. The flavour is subtle but sublime.

Conversation, great coffee and a biscuit to go along with it. I can’t imagine a more perfect way to spend a few minutes on a rainy November morning.