I still remember quite well that day of middle March, when we crossed Babalú’s threshold for the first time. The first of a series of many times, so many that are becoming impossible to count without the help from a calendar. It’s not that long ago, just a handful of weeks. We stepped inside the café and the first human being we saw was this vaguely Guybrush Threepwood looking person cheerfully busying himself with pots and pans behind the counter. It feels like a lot of time has passed since that day. We had been wandering around for some time, sitting in bookstores’ cafeterias to warm us up during our first downtown explorations. We were like people in the middle of nothing, because we knew nothing and it felt a bit like being casual tourists on a holiday. We are unsociable routine people, to this day we still don’t know much about the right places to hang out during the notoriously crazy Reykjavík weekend marathons – going from a bar to the other to drink, from Friday to Sunday, till you drop dead, is quite common around here.
Babalú’s exterior caught my eye during our sporadic strolls up and down Skólavörðustígur – where I also got the first glimpse of feline presence in the capital, for the record. The colorful appearance had a sort of dreamy and domestic feel. I got a singular impression, but it had almost the quality of a déjà vu. The aura was, even from the outside, the one you get from things you either love or hate. And of course, in our case, it was love at first sight.
I must admit I’ve never been a café person before in my life. In Italy I never used to go to cafés or tea rooms unless I was forced to. Sitting at a café’s table made me frown, feel terribly bored and out of place. I didn’t even like the kind of stuff they served much. I had no interest or motivation to pay to sit and be bored at the average café. I preferred benches in the street to cafés or bars. I merely liked to go and buy ice-cream now and then, but I always went outside to eat it. You know, I just didn’t like this kind of public places and it felt like a waste of time. You can thus understand if I say I was baffled myself when I realized I was willing to go to a café everyday, and I was feeling I could not do without my daily Babalú session. I was even more baffled realizing I actually enjoyed drinking their beverages and eating their food. As I extensively said, I’m usually not too fond of cafés edible material and I am very picky when it comes to food.
Café Babalú offers a pleasant variety of homemade cakes. The New York cheesecake is their most renowned specialty, but their selection includes vegan carrot cake, chocolate cake and apple crumble. The apple crumble, served with syrup and cream, is my personal favorite; Harry loves the cheesecake in special way. Cookies of many different kinds and shapes are also something I usually go for. I love the oatmeal cookies, just to name one. I’m crazy for their crunchiness. If one prefers savory snacks, crepes, lasagna or panini are a few of the available choices. Well, I’m not used to think of lasagna as a snack, but many Icelanders love to have a portion of it in the middle of the afternoon.
Babalú’s strongest point beside the homemade deliciousness of their cakes, cookies and other snacks – not to mention I think their cappuccino is one of the best you can find in the Reykjavík area – is a question of atmosphere. I’m not sure how to put it, but once you ascend the little staircase leading to the café, you immediately perceive something different. It’s not just the lovely retro furnishing, the warmth of the tones, the bizarre and clearly heartfelt care for every detail, the fact there are board games, guitars and so many books around – and books are always a big point in favor however you look at it -; it’s not just the awesomeness of the nostalgic fisherman deco of the bathroom – I want to have myself a bathroom like that at home, by the way -, nor the incredible assemblage of delightful luminaries and paraphernalia; it’s not just the loveliness of the very special people you can meet there, the collection of incredible habitués, the peculiar assortment of the staff that makes you think more of an enlarged family or, even better, of a unique cast for a film or a book. It’s all these things together. At Babalú not only we found a lounging base, but also a shelter to recharge out batteries on daily basis, a source of useful information, and a way to mix with other people that for a reason or another were drawn to the place for reasons similar to ours. There are of course many casual customers that visit Babalú everyday, attracted by the fancy exterior like I was at first, but it’s the returning customers that are to be taken into account when you want to trace a line separating Babalú from other cafés: I can see a pattern of some sorts in the way some people become permanent guests.
How can you be fair with anything that’s very dear to you? You can’t. So I hope if Babalú people will ever read this – especially Glenn, the owner – they won’t be too mad if these lines don’t sound like great publicity. It took me some time to decide to write about Café Babalú exactly for this reason: I got too close to it to write a review. Can you write a review about a friend or a family member? I don’t think so. Still, Babalú deserves to be known more and I want to give an opinion that is not the occasional visitor’s opinion. And if I fail in conveying any kind of plausible message to support Babalú’s cause, it’s not because I haven’t tried.
There are times when you are in need of reference points and you don’t realize it until you find them. Even your routine can be very confusing in absence of references. Small references maybe, nothing philosophical or spiritual. You don’t know why you feel the need of a place to rest, somewhere that isn’t necessarily home, but where you can feel at home, safe. Some homes are no homes at all. I’ve been living for the greatest part of my life in the same place, but I could never feel the reassuring sensation that gathers into your intimate recesses with a soothing effect on your nerves.
Café Babalú will be happy to welcome you in Skólavörðustígur 22A, everyday from 11:00 to 23:00. Feel free to make it your home in Reykjavík.