We took the temporary habit to go to Sonia’s café just by chance.
It was on our way, already open early in the morning…
“Sonia is a Russian name – Sergey said – but I don’t think she’s Russian”
A kind, smiling energetic lady, which filled her counter shelves with gigantic sandwiches and enormous and heavy slices of cakes.
“I’d like just something salty, not sweet for breakfast, Madame Sonia.
Something light, maybe a small croissant…”
“Oh I have not any croissant, but I have just finished baking a delicious “baguettine”,
I baked it myself”
The suffix “ine” in French identifies something small…
“Merci, Madame Sonia, I’ll take the small “baguettine” with my coffee”
And she served me a kind of really huge loaf of bred,
cut in half and covered with a thick layer of onions, cream and melted cheese.
I felt like fainting.
I didn’t want to hurt Madame Sonia’s feelings.
When she turned her back to serve other early morning clients,
I pushed the whole scaring “baguettine” into my friend Sergey’s dish,
where there was already a triumphant big slice of very nourishing cake.
“Please….”
Sergey bravely ate all.
This is what I call friendship!