Takagi Coffee’s famous triangular "purin" (flan/creme caramel) is the epitome of dandy nonchalance of George Carlin. Much sturdier than the regular soft purin, Takagi’s is more like a flan, it stands on its on – an island of manly confidence – silently mocking the softies of the current generation in a pool of seriously rummy caramel sauce. Just in case there is not enough hard liquor already, a dash of Cointreau is added to the whipped cream. Just in case. To properly dig into this triangular purin, even the equipment must be exchanged from the ice cream spoon to a cake spoon with a sharper side to cut into the hard and elastic flan. Chewy and hardy, and yet unexpectedly smooth in the mouth, its defiance hides a noble heart.
Takagi is a non-smoking facility, prizing the loyalty of their clientele over the health hazard of the staff and other non-smoking clients. Yet, no one complains: the reason is simple, for those who must have clean air, there are the cafés. With today’s fast and free flow of information, before ever setting foot inside, we know all about the establishments – from the menu, the price and even the location of the toilet (Takagi’s located outside). Therefore, there is no need to endure someone else’ guilty pleasure, unless – unless, of course, one can derive some sort of compensation, a derivative sympathy in watching the smoke and the stain, as if the reality has been inverted and the self has been inserted into a scene of a silent cinema.
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