On a winter afternoon, when Jik was visiting from Sydney, we went inside a random cafe in Prahran. The place, which apparently was a tea lounge, was small and quiet. It was practically empty but looked absolutely cozy with mismatched decor and furniture, including colourful oversized armchairs.
A friendly lady welcomed us to sit “wherever you like” and gave us a laminated menu.
We each ordered a cup of our favourite tea, and I started reading down the menu and was intrigued by the pumpkin soup. I never had nor liked the thought of pumpkin soup until that moment, but that didn’t stop me from adding it to the order.
The tea came first. We slurped it piping hot to chase away the biting cold from the outside weather.
Warmed, we relaxed and started chit-chatting our hearts out.
Sometime later, the pumpkin soup appeared in the kitchen, served in a big teacup. I took a spoon, another spoon and another. It was hands down one of the best soups I have ever had. Perfect size, beautiful taste and best treat on a winter day. The pumpkin soup was an epitome of comfort food, and to think that before that, I almost wrote it off without ever trying it. I can’t remember whether I even offered it to Jik to try. Hopefully, I did.
I cherished the “ordinary” afternoon a lot, so much so that I was devasted when I couldn’t find the tea lounge when I took a stroll around the neighbourhood only a couple of months later. At first, I thought I might have forgotten the location, but after combing a few streets parallel to it, I realized it was gone for good, replaced by another cafe.
That day I was in the Mojo Tea Lounge ━ with Jik; having my first and best pumpkin soup has become a cozy core memory. And in my memory, the place has slowly shifted from just a tea lounge to a magical sanctuary run by a tasseomancy witch.
Follow me on Instagram @KultureKween for more recent updates.
