but of course, i did eat that day. after the inkpad and gloves (ok, and crocheted necklace and teatowel), and the vintage letterheads and comics, i found myself in need of sustenance. i’d been reading about the cafe, mister close, for a little while, but couldn’t really figure out where in the city it was. turns out, it’s in a shopping arcade i walk through sometimes, my shortcut to chinatown. my chinatown dash usually happens around dinnertime though, and after hours, a clever sliding wall device makes quite a vanishing act of the mysterious mister close.

but here i was, right at the tail end of the what appeared to be a busy lunch crush — the eat-in area was still packed. behind the expansive front counter, the staff in sharp aprons were bustling. within the glass display, the salads and casseroles, somewhat depleted in large bowls, looked a little tired. however, the wall of readymade sandwiches was still going strong, offering such cheek-tingling combinations as grilled pumpkin – salsa agresto – buffalo mozerella – oven roasted tomato, and haloumi – roasted capsicum – eggplant – rocket – dukkah. i felt lucky to snaffle the last thyme buttered mushroom – zucchini – goats cheese.

after some minutes in the sandwich press, it was presented to me in a brown paper bag stamped with the cafe’s dapper logo. now, what to do? where in the city could i sit quietly to eat my toasted sandwich? would i find an empty bench in front of the library? could i wait the walk to the train station? would i be so unglamourous as to eat it on the train?

in the end, i took my sandwich just a few steps across the corridor to starbucks, ordered a green tea frappucino (i had seen them oh so small and innocent on the internet a few days before and had not been able to get them out of my mind) and sat at a quiet table round the back. it was a delicious frappuccino, sweet and mildly green with a lovely cloud of whipped cream on top, and i wondered why i had not had one in at least a couple of years.

the secret smuggled sandwich was delicious too — from the grilled buttery crunch of the seedy, nutty bread, to the succulent marinated mushrooms mingling saucily with the musty goats cheese, to the bitter green foil of salad leaves. mmm… salty, slippery goodness.

i thought my beverage choice made the perfect accompaniment to my perfect sandwich, however a reading of mister close’s blog revealed (with unnecessary glee, i thought) that the starbucks would be moving out. when — i do not know. clearly, an incentive for me to return sooner rather than later for the haloumi sandwich, which i’m sure it will pair just beautifully with the delicate spices of a chai frappuccino.