I can’t remember the name of the girl who opens the door but we know each others faces. There’s something comforting in that moment of recognition, of knowing each other. The bright lights and warm bacon scented air are a welcome contrast to the lingering winter outside. We meander through the tightly packed tables. Tables still waiting for sleepy occupants still lingering in bed. Before I even get the baby settled in her high chair a steaming fresh cup waits for me…coffee. Coffee I don’t even have to order. We know each other so well the menu is already cooked into my brain. It’s these small rituals that make this city feel like home. Home on a cold winter day.