IJssalon Capriccio

 We take a slightly different route to the boulevard today. This morning, I went with Billie Stormzy to the supermarket, but forgot to buy baby meals - unfortunately, the only thing piccky Billie Stormzy wants to eat are these kind of meals that are really meant for kids quite a bit younger than he. Well, he eats more than that, but he is absolutely not interested in our evening meals. This is even more frustrating because at his daycare, he happily eats the food they make there. Apparently, for him eating is something he does with other children, rather than with us. 

There is a Kruidvat, a drugstore, that sells baby meals in the Palace Passage, the indoors shopping mall next to the Kurhaus, so we park our bike at the entrance there, and make our way to the boulevard through its covered alleys. Halfway through the Palace Passage, there is something of a square, with electronic cars that will move after putting in a coin. Billie Stormzy is happy to play with them, even without me inserting a coin, and it takes quite a while before I can persuade him to come to the store with me. There, he runs around, interested in anything he sees, especially if it resembes a button. He loves pushing buttons. The drugstore doesn't offer plastic bags, so I have to stuff the pockets of my jacket with the baby meals; luckily, they're deep pockets. I'm also carrying a bag of nappies when we exit the Palace Passage at the boulevard side, because Billie Stormzy insisted I bought one of those, too. 

Immediately to the right after exiting the Palace Passage lies IJssalon Capriccio, advertising itself with a big sign saying it's an Italian place. The sign is not really needed. Once inside, there is loud Italo Rock playing - dramatic power ballads - and the interior is as Italian as possible: lots of marble and mirrors, with intricate angular designs that remind me of the 1980s. We're greeted heartily by a grey haired man who looks like a sailor who ended up running a seaside icecream parlor. He asks whether I have a QR code, but when I take out my phone, he gestures he doesn't need to actually see it. We seem to be the only customers - there is a woman sitting at another table, but somehow I suspect she is family or friend, rather than patron.

It's not really a day for icecream. It's rainy, cold and windy - a strong storm is predicted for tomorrow, and already today the wind is blowing strong. Instead, I pick a pancake: the "crêpes strawberry", as it is called on the menu (€6,50). I also take a cappuccino (€2,70). Billie Stormzy sits on my lap and plays a little with some toy cars I brought with me. First, the cappuccino is brought. There's a happy face drawn on the foam on top of it, much to Billie Stormzy's amusement. There's a really tasteful chocolate bonbon, too, which I share with him. While I drink my coffee, he is eager to scoop some of the foam, but soon there is only coffee. Suddenly the man shows up, smiling, holding another bonbon in front of him which he gives to Billie Stormzy, much to the little one's delight. 

Once the chocolate is finished, and knowing that there is a pancake coming, Billie Stormzy gets very impatient, asking loudly when it will arrive, and doing so repeatedly. A younger man is preparing our food, and when I see him squirting on the syrup, I tell Billie Stormzy: "there it is!" And indeed, soon the older man is bringing us our pancake. We eat it together and we both really enjoy it. It comes with strawberries, syrup and vanille icecream, and the latter is utterly delicious. The pancake itself also tastes good, as do the strawberries. When we're finished with the pancake, I order another cappuccino. Billie Stormzy seems to enjoy the melodramatic rock music playing, and I also find this a very pleasant place to stay for a little while longer. Again, we share the bonbon, and soon the man appears once more, this time giving Billie Stormzy some chocolate cookie sticks that normally go in icecream coupes. He munches on the cookies, while I drink my cappuccino, and the older man looks at us, smiling, from behind the counter. It's difficult to put my finger on it, but something about Capriccio is just really very nice. I'm reminded a bit of when I visited places like this in Tunisia, together with Billie Stormzy's sister when she was his age - she also always drew this kind of admiration from waiters and waitresses there, which is typically Mediterranean, I guess. 

When I've finished my coffee, it's time for Billie Stormzy's afternoon nap. We get up, and I walk towards the counter. Billie Stormzy is, as always, eager to pay with my card, but then he is distracted by another favourite object: a pole with a little box dispensing disinfectant - poles like this have appeared everywhere since the beginning of the pandemic: at the entrances of public buildings, hotels, restaurants, cafés, workplaces... Whenever he sees one, Billie Stormzy wants to wash his hands with it. He reaches out, but this is a model he is unfamiliar with - instead of automatically spraying his hands with disinfectant, he needs to pull a handle, but when he does, a generous amount of gel is sprayed on the floor. The older man, who has popped up behind Billie Stormzy to help him, laughs out loud, then tells him to hold his hands in front of him so that he can pull the handle for him. The little one looks at me, uncertain of what to do, so I pick him up and hold him so that he can put his hands close to the dispenser. The man pulls the handle, and Billie Stormzy rubs his hands happily. Then, we pay and leave - I am certain we will return again. The ice coupes they have on the menu look mouth watering and I really want to give them a try someday, but I would already come back for the atmosphere alone.