Orderinny

51 Wilkinson Rd as I know it no longer exists, with my parents having moved out and the construction crew moving in. I haven't lived there permanently since 2001, but it is home as i know it and the only home i acknowledge, the apartments in chicago and now nyc are still just long-term accomodation.
So it was with some sense of delight that I found casa about 10 streets away from my apartment that channeled 51 wilkinson. Why do I say so? Like 51 wilkinson, casa is probably owned by a master hoarder of things, and the room and walls reflected the owner's sensibilities. The decor is an odd mish-mash of stuff inherited from grandparents, lugged in from the flea market 2 streets down, but all lovingly collected and exhibited. I was complimenting the guy manning the store about the beautiful antique cash register and he promptly told me about its history, its design and where he got it from. And proceeded to talk about the coffee grinder next to it, as old and as well maintained, and fully functional as the cash register had been. Just like the way it was at home, where my mum couldn't bear to throw a lot of the old stuff that she had amassed throughout the years and had to bring them to the new place.
It was also odd that the cool and dark room at the back of the store felt like the dining room at home, where i spent many hours poring over my study notes on the dining table, which was the only table big enough for me to spread my junk all across it. Which was incidentally what i did in casa, I picked the biggest table n dumped my cfa notes on it, ordered some breakfast and coffee and pretended to be a good student when I was actually paying a lot more attention to the coffee and warm strawberry waffle that i was to what I was supposed to be reading.
Anyway, casa's supposed to be an offshoot of the popular cupcake cafe a mere block away, so there's obviously fresh cupcakes. But when i was there, the barista, also the cashier and server (v. capable one man show) was making another customer waffles on a double waffle iron, and the smell of freshly made waffle, compounded with images of me slathering it with butter and dousing it with syrup just meant that I had to get it too... I also got a nice big cup of iced coffee that went brilliantly with the sweet syrup... I'm no real coffee connoiseur even though I drink a lot of it, but the coffee was not bitter and the expresso to milk ratio was just right. just one of the best way to start a productive saturday morning.

Casa
545 9th Ave (40th and 41st st)