I am preparing to open a coffee shop down the street from where I live.
My mind has been whirring with tastes and images of the respite I might be able to create for my neighbors.
What I have lacked in creativity I have bandaged with constant constant tinkering in the kitchen.
If said business does manage to take off with coffee-only first, I then want to pile all kinds of pastries and baked goods in the middle of the shop, reminiscent of the colonial influence on Shanghai producing a hybrid of cultures.
I struggle to write nowadays. Maybe in place of it I can make more food for the people I love.