Dear Blackbird Bakery,
For the last three months you’ve been a welcome refuge for this Kiwi who is far from home and in need of coffee and cakes and company on a daily basis. You’ve become my home from home and I love you for that and for so many other things.
I love the little conversations that I’ve had with you while you got my coffee (in a china cup) and that you asked my name and smiled and said hello every day.
I love your high ceilings and art deco lights and Sinatra on the stereo. I love that you let me sit for hours writing and watching people decide whether they want a brownie stack or a glazed doughnut or a macaron (or two). I want to tell them that it doesn’t matter what they choose, they’re all amazing. (I did my best to try everything but to be honest I couldn’t get past the cannoli.) I love that the Blackbird is a happy place.
I love that you stayed open when lots of others didn’t when the mother-of -all-snow storms paid Bristol a visit. I was the crazy person out walking as the snow came down and I appreciated a mug of hot chocolate and a warm spot in front of your fire before I slogged my way home.
I love that you invite musicians and photographers and painters into your space so that they can showcase their talents. I love that you spell doughnut with all its letters.
Of course I love that you bake everything from scratch and take pride in using only the best ingredients and that your trays of creamy, colourful, cakes and slices and squares make children squeal. I love that people come to fuel up before work, to share birthdays and first dates, to study or work, or just to read by the fire.
Most of all I love that you love what you do and I will miss you.
Categories: An American Adventure