Beth Clemens

On a perfectly windy, sunny, 25 degree afternoon, I sit on one of the benches at the edge of the lake. I drink a chilled can of Diet Coke. Children clamber past me, rushing to claim their kayaks. Families catch gentle gusts of wind on their small sail boats. Ducks, geese, pigeons and seagulls gather at the waters edge. One child tell another that birds don’t bite, “they peck.” One woman’s parasol flies off, but the dancing weeping willows catch it for her. In the distance, I can hear the grunt of a tennis player. Why are none of these people at work? It’s Tuesday at 2pm. Why am I not at work? I feel like I’m in rehab. It feels like wealthy people don’t have problems.

cannot put into words how much i love this place. went once randomly for a coffee when I was walking through the square, saw the cake pictured below in the cabinet, ordered a slice to go, was so enamoured by the cake box and the delicacy of it all. cake was, of course, perfect. over the next month i went back to confeitaria nacional about 5 times, always buying a slice of cake. i took cake to the park with friends, even. the coffee is good too. there is a woman with long dark hair who served me in the upstairs section of the cafe who always said thank you to me, when i would say thank you to her. she is so charming. my only critique is how many americans who seem to frequent the place dont understand how queues work, but alas, that is not Confeitaria Nacionals fault. FIVE STARS I MISS THIS CAKE SO MUCH