What I meant to say yesterday, when I was talking about wandering the world for half a year, before I got sidetracked into a bit of...
comedy,
is that if, of all the places we have been and visited and eaten and drinked at in this last half year, if there was one that I wish we could take with us, and have with us next door forever, it would be a modest coffee shop in our neighborhood of Kyoto.
It isn't easy to say why.
Located in the most absolutely quiet backstreets of a neighborhood, a few steps from the backside entrance of a genuinely insignifigant, though perfectly charming little shrine, Kononeki had limited hours so we learned to plan our week around it somewhat. Featuring a simple design of small tables, a couple of them even just for one person, plenty of wood, an open counter kitchen area, and a few shopping selections, Kononeki served mainly coffee. And toast.
These were very good.
And if anything else were available or on the menu, you'd really better get them.
No, I mean it. They will be better than you think.
No, even with my warning, they will still be better than you think. Like, functionally you won't be able to imagine it.
It is not your limitation.
It's just.... Kononeki.
The proprietress is very nice too.
I have drawn a picture for you. It makes me wistful:
