My kind of culture is nothing profound, but it can make my day. Wednesday afternoon I sat down in a high quality French Bakery with a well made iced espresso (good coffee pulled right, a little milk, no sweetener, and not too much ice so I can sip slowly without my drink turning to brown water). OK, I’m fussy! I was saying, I sat down with a perfect iced espresso and an incredibly flaky croissant a la framboise (I’ve worked in bakeries, so I’m fussy here, too, and let me tell you, Le Panier does it right…the pastry is buttery and the jam is seedy and thick!) What was I saying? Right. I sat down with a perfect iced espresso, a perfect croissant, in a lively-but-not-too-crazy-noisy French bakery in Seattle, and read the front section of the New York Times. (Yes I’m fussy about that, too. The Seattle paper? Hugely disappointing. So I’m happy as a pig in s**t when someone leaves the Times at a cafe). Culture my style.
Taken with my Android phone and edited with Perfect Effects.
Many more looks at what culture means across this small, precious globe of ours can be found here. Most all of them are more profound than mine.