My local café, which had changed the fabric of my neighbourhood

It’s shocking, thinking back to the before times, to realize that I never actually sat down at Supernova Coffee. I popped in with my reusable coffee cup, often twice a day, my order always the same: A flat white, at times with regular whole milk, others with oat, depending on my mood. What a wasted opportunity, I think now, to have only leaned my elbow on the counter running the length of the window, or rested my shopping bags on the communal table instead of sitting awhile.

My local café had only been open seven months when the pandemic started. As the best small businesses do, it immediately changed the fabric of the neighbourhood. Once it was there, enmeshed in my daily routine, I could no longer imagine that corner — or my life — without it. Owners Kavi and Paris make great coffee, but they also created a very special place.

There’s a turntable in the corner and art on the walls. Vibrant orange stools, lush plants and stacks of board games and vinyl. Out front, beyond the gold foil signage, there are wooden benches and a playful yet direct sidewalk mural: COFFEE. I always appreciated our conversations, their taste in music and the way they put orange slices in the water dispenser.

Like most friendships, it’s hard to pinpoint the beginning. I would bring them fresh-baked sourdough to try, and Kavi would share the rye and carrot pies she picked up at Estonian bake sales. She started her own sourdough starter and, sure enough, our talks became increasingly fermentation related.

Supernova was one of two places I went on that last normal day in March. And although they reopened over the long weekend for takeout, I look forward to the day they, and the other local business I love, open fully. Meantime, I can brew some of their beans, which they were kind enough to deliver by motorcycle, and hope that their business makes it to the other side.