Merci's effortless charm-that sunlight trickling into the windows and basking the pastel soft walls. It was the kind of place very familiar and pretty exciting, almost like a scene straight out of a European brunch cafe. The counters were lined with perfectly golden croissants and delicate tarts, then flanked by pies that were so pretty they looked almost too good to eat. Almost.
We quickly found a gorg corner seat beside a window so that we could watch the world outside while sipping onto something sweet. Shamelle was busy taking out her Samsung phone, clicking snaps of that postcard-like homey little aesthetic, as I was making up my mind whether to try an iced latte or indulge myself a bit.
We did a lot of pointing at pastries, the prettier ones, I might add, before I went in for the strawberry croissant while Shamelle chose the chocolate strawberry croissant. The arrival at our table was marked by a moment of silence for the flaky golden beauty that was dusted with powdered sugar with fresh strawberries peeking from within.
I took a heavenly bite: the buttery layers melting in my mouth with the sweet-tart strawberries to contrast the richness. Shamelle took a bite, gasped, and stared wide-eyed.
"Oh my God! I think I just fell in love."
We both sat still for a moment, trying to appreciate how good those pastries were, and naturally switched plates to taste each other's selections. Hers was the richer one with a layer of chocolate a perfect foil for the deep fruitiness.
We talked, and talked. About anything and everything. The gorgeous lives, the petty dramas, the ones we've chased and the very few we've run away from. It was one of those effortless connections, where every current was smooth and cool, just like in a rom-com where two best friends share whispered secrets between warm coffees.
At some point, we went through pages and pages of younger selves, recalling fashion faux pas from years gone by. Shamelle cringed dramatically at one of her old outfits, while I almost choked on my drink laughing at my tragically awkward bangs phase.
“Why did we ever have that idea in the first place? I guess it was sometime passed down from someone else.”
“We didn't think-it just happened along the way."
Time just slipped away from my world as I took photos with the light above our table hitting our half-eaten croissants remnants of a very good time.
What was not a café but rather a hiatus-indeed, a reframe. The type of place to go to just when you need to escape reality for even an hour. Everything: food, ambience and crew-the whole experience seems intentional to ah, be savored rather than just consumed.
Stepping out, here's Shamelle and me bathed in that glowing sun of late afternoon, and she says, "We're coming back here, right?"
"Definitely."
Some places are not just cafés. They are moments waiting to be turned into memories. And this baby, Merci? This one's a keeper for sure.