From Real Coffee

“ This is on my list,” I say. She nods, chewing. Both of our eyes are elsewhere, on the ocean. We are watching the palms sway in the wind. We are watching the waves push across the world’s finest sand . We are watching the boats drift or motor past. In another way, we are remembering rather than seeing. The list in question, of my favorite restaurants, is slightly absurd. It contains a dozen or so…