Love and hope and butter and dreams

There used to be this pizza shop right on the border of Oakland, Berkeley and Emeryville. My friends waited tables there and i babysat around the corner. I would bring Delilah there and grab a booth and day dream about the cute line cook, turning pizzas.

Those same friends waiting tables decided to open up a wood fire oven bagel shop after the pizza shop closed down. That shop was a block away from my oakland bungalow and i quickly learned it was the best bagel place in town and had that same very cute and unavailable line cook. But that was fine. If we’re just friends, we’re gonna be the best of friends, i decided.

I spent all of my free time outside of the bakery i managed in Alameda, sitting in the window doing recipe development, schedules and love scheming. I’d get a cappuccino, pull out my notebook and then gaze over until he said hello. This went on for months, until i started working at that very shop part time and began drawing up a business plan for what would eventually be Rolling Sloane’s.

I used to lay my head at the counter above the prep station and talk to him for 20 minutes or so about literally anything. I made him laugh. He made me laugh. Best friends we became. Long story short? Eventually i started running my business out of that shop, married that guy and lived happily ever after.