Kaffi

Whenever I am in California, and wander into a coffee shop or a Starbucks, I am reminded of kaffi at my grandmother's in Iceland, or at my mother's cousin's house. The kind of coffee where not only is a pot of coffee and some kleinur on the table, but three different kinds of cakes, plus ponnukokkir, sulta, og rjomi, cookies, usually some chocolate. A veritable feast. The generosity, the freedom of choice, to nibble at a bite of this and a bite of that while sipping some coffee, boy do I miss that.

Seriously, the other morning I went into a donut place (24 hour, how cool is that?) and got three different kinds of donuts (apple fritter, raisin roll, and maple old fashioned) just because I wanted some variety to go with my cup o' joe. I did not finish any of them, by the way!

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