The dream
It started with a craving.
Long before there was a trailer, there was a daydream. As a young adult I kept coming back to the same picture: a tiny crepe and waffle place with a hot griddle, the smell of batter and butter drifting out the door, and a line of people who could not decide between the strawberries and the Nutella.
I sketched menus in the margins of notebooks. I named crepes that did not exist yet. I imagined friends splitting a waffle at a little table and staying twenty minutes longer than they planned. It was never about getting rich. It was about making a place that feels like a hug.
