After our dinner with the Serbian waiter we walked down the street to Ann’s Florist and Coffee Bar. I was thirsty for a beer, beer having recently joined pastis as one of the few alcohols that didn’t burn my healing throat. Walking past the counter of pastries I spotted some delicious pieces of blueberry cobbler.
We got a seat outside on the terrace. The waiter, kneeling to address us at eye level, went through the long list of beers, which included craft beers as well as national brands.
“I’ll have the blueberry cobbler,” I told him.
“Would you like that on draft or in a bottle?” he asked.
