A Periodic Table for Two, Please

My hometown—where my parents still live—is home to a multinational chemical company where my father worked for many years. My high school shares the name of that corporation, and the rival high school’s nickname is the “Chemics.” My elementary school, as far as I know, still goes by the “Atoms.” Many townspeople have deposited their earnings at Chemical Bank, and some have imbibed at Bar Oxygen. And so it should come as no surprise that our choice for breakfast today has an elemental name, too.

Café Zinc claims a French bistro setting, but I haven’t spent enough time in French bistros to know if decorative lobster loaves and apples-in-wood-wine-rack displays are indigenous to said bistros. But what I do know for sure is that Beni and I shared a delectable meal, one enhanced by the ambience of the café and the absence of children’s voices, namely our own.

You know, you love your kids to pieces, but sometimes the best thing for all parties of the family is for the parents to enjoy a date night—or morning. (Really. We’re not picky.)