Babycino & toy

Most Tuesdays, before story time at the Free Library of Philadelphia, we walk through the Art Museum District to Mugshots, a popular coffeehouse (American for cafe). In Elliott's view, it has much to recommend it: a very entertaining toy, crayons and paper for drawing, fine granola, pretty young ladies who are exactly his type and delicious babycinos. The American barista's repertoire does not include babycinos. They (like most Americans) have never heard of such a thing until we make their day by requesting one. Always interesting to see what comes out first time around. It's never a babycino. At Mugshots, it was a strong macchiato concealed beneath a generous layer of milk froth garnished with a squiggle of chocolate sauce, thus explaining why, as I placed the order, they were looking at me as if I were deranged. Now, they produce an excellent babycino -- their own take on the concept using layers of cinnamon and crunchy raw sugar. It's Elliott's second-favourite Philadelphia babycino. The one they've invented for him at Parc, where he's incredibly spoilt, is his favourite. It comes with a squirrel-shaped cookie for dipping.