Cortado
After a wonderful fall break, I thought it was appropriate to wake up my blog the same way I wake up myself – with a cortadito. Landing in Paris was exhilarating, tinged with pink and capped with gold, the city smells like butter. From the first moment, I wanted to go in twenty directions at once. Exhausted but not wanting to lose the day, we went to the closest cafe for a quick lunch before heading out. Ordering in broken French, our waiter responded in broken Spanish. We weren’t getting very far until he hit on exactly what we were looking for – a cortado. Relieved to be understood, I finally felt awake. Read more
hungry sofia 