MMMambo Italiano

Rain on a Sunday is God’s way of saying, “Absolutely not. You’re not reorganizing a closet today.” (Which is exactly what I did later in the day)

So I did what any emotionally mature adult would do. I went to Giulia Italian Bakery.

There is something about an Italian bakery in the rain that makes you feel like you’re starring in a tasteful indie film. The kind where nothing dramatic happens except someone stares out a window while holding espresso and thinking profound thoughts. My profound thought was: Should I get two pastries?

(Yes. The answer is yes.)

The second you walk in, you’re hit with that smell—espresso and butter having a very successful relationship. The pastry case glows like it’s backlit by destiny. Cornetti with dollops of the mystery inside. Fruit tarts so glossy they look like they moisturize. Sandwiches stacked with the quiet confidence of how good the ingredients are.

Rainy Sundays erase calorie math. That’s just science. The weather cancels it out. I ordered a pistachio latte and a pistachio cornetto…and a cronut for good measure

Outside: gray skies and umbrellas battling for relevance. Inside: warmth, ceramic cups clinking, the staffs friendly smiles. It felt European enough that I briefly considered buying a scarf.

The first bite of pastry on a rainy morning is a spiritual experience. Flaky layers shatter everywhere. You try to eat it gracefully. You cannot. Pistachio cream will humble you. It’s part of the charm.

And here’s the real secret: it’s not just about the pastry. It’s about declaring that your Sunday will not be optimized. It will not be hustled. It will not be “quick.” It will be slow. It will involve butter. It might involve a second latte.

Rain gives you permission. A bakery gives you purpose.

I left slightly sugared, highly caffeinated, and fully committed to doing absolutely nothing productive for the rest of the day…that didn’t last.

And honestly? That feels like elite-level living.

https://www.giuliabakery.com

Best,

Jason