Depasco Cafe and Bakery, September 2nd

“Great minds discuss ideas; average minds discuss events; and small minds discuss people”, said Eleanor Roosevelt. I can’t help feeling that Mrs Roosevelt would be very confused if she ever had coffee or a meal with me and Gray, because we start by discussing events, move on to people, and almost inevitably end up on ideas, especially if it’s the kind of lunch where Gray’s ordering the wine.

Wine is what Gray and I are having at Depasco Café and Bakery today. Every time I’m here I’m tempted by the fresh and reasonably priced sandwiches on offer, but I’m always in a hurry, or have just eaten. That’s the case today. I didn’t plan to come into town at all, but Gray had an hour to kill before work and I was easily convinced to come along to one of my favourite places for wine, coffee, soup and people-watching.

The waiters here look shocked when you order wine, and Gray and I have always wondered if that’s just because we tend to be ordering it around eleven in the morning, when one of us is on the way to work. It could also be that Depasco isn’t really a wine place – they’re all about breakfasts and light business lunches. My advice: don’t let preconceptions put you off.

The ideas we’re discussing include enlistment in the military and how I'd prevent Gray from doing it (he doesn't want to anyway), the ins and outs of being only children (we both are), and whether cheap wine is necessarily bad wine (the verdict: no).
The event we’re discussing is my dinner with Donnie the previous evening at Societi Bistro. The person, of course, is Donnie. We agree that he’s very hot, but we differ on whether this makes up for the fact that I tend to find him a little boring. Gray’s vote is for Donnie, mine is against, in this department at least.
“What would you do if he told you he wanted to do long-distance? Like, officially?”
“I wouldn’t worry about that. While I’m the other woman, we can hardly think about changing our collective Facebook relationship status. I don’t know though, what I’d do if he did ask. I’d probably say yes, but I don’t think I’d want to. I like the way things are now.”
“Why try to put a name to it?” Gray asks, this time rhetorically.
As is usual when discussing my would-be relationships, he sounds desperate to see me placed securely in a relationship. It frustrates me a little; when no-one is good enough for Gray in my eyes, I sometimes wish he’d be a little more discerning for me. I think, though, that this might be one of those differences between men and women: women are determined that their friends should find the perfect man, while men just want their friends to be happy. Whether they’re realistic or lacking in ambition is a debate for another time. Of course, my fear of commitment is becoming evident, and I might just have to concede to giving someone a chance, sooner or later.

When Gray leaves, I switch to coffee. Drinking in the morning is one thing; drinking alone in the morning is perhaps another. The coffee is as well-priced as the wine, and I'm yet to have a cup I don't enjoy here. On the topic of that soup - if the tomato kind is on the menu, try it. It's R25 and comes with warm bread. The waiters remain in evidence, but no-one asks me if I want to order anything more. I don’t know whether to praise or criticise this – I presume that on seeing that I was busy, they decided to leave it up to me to make it known if I needed them, but by conventional waiting wisdom it would probably be said that they weren’t attentive enough.

It’s the atmosphere at Depasco that I love. Palm-patterned wallpaper, linoleum striped in shades of brown and cream, mirror-tiled pillars and faux-tacky green furniture create the feeling of a retro beach house where there’s nothing more important to do than enjoy the luxury of a few hours spent surrounded by beautiful people in a setting that’s cool in every sense. There aren’t many restaurants or coffee shops where I’m okay with just sitting on my own and writing, but somehow I can do it here. In fact, I’m not generally very good at sitting still for any length of time under any circumstances. When the young, suited businessman at a table littered with Vogues and Elles orders a pink Snapple, I realise that it's almost summer, and I'm happy. I leave two and a half hours later, newly scribbled notes in hand.

Next time I’m at Depasco, I’ll be trying the sandwiches. That’s one commitment I’m willing to make.

My next must-try? Silver Boutique and Cafe, across and a little way up Kloof Street from Depasco.