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Writer's pictureHailo

I Ate Every Dessert at Raf's

The first time I went to Raf's I was 22. I was meek, quiet, afraid to be the first to break bread and to ask for what I really wanted off of the menu.




I have been back many times since, trying out different tables and dishes, but mainly coming in late for a dessert and a martini and to write. I made a lot of headway on my novel at Raf's, talking to one couple to my left once who were on a first date.


Bringing one of my best friends before a Literati event. A friend that I always get the bread with anywhere because they love bread and when I drink, I also love bread.


Obviously, when you go to Raf's, you get the chicken. The chicken is insane, and the bread under it more so. But it's not the type of thing you necessarily want to get alone and I honestly love going to Raf's alone. Sitting at the bar alone is great, but sitting at a table under that ceiling painted to look like a sky is holy.


I was seated in the corner table on the left when you walk in once, having come in after another Literati event, and I was working on a really tough section to get through. I was listening to Mitski and I stepped into the bathroom (gorgeous bathroom, gorgeous tile, big mirror on the door) and I cried, looking at myself in the mirror above the sink wondering how writing could feel so bad sometimes if I loved it that much.


I went back out, had another gin and tonic and fini! My writing comes in sprints and for fiction it feels like exorcising something out of me, so I try to make it as comfortable of an experience as possible. And Raf's provided that comfort. I've had many a dates here, but again, Raf's alone is holy.


I was in the other week having a coffee in the morning. The playlist made me want to write. I feel like, when you're working on solitary work, that is the hallmark of a great place -- whether or not the music that they are playing makes you want to write.


Thank you Raf's for your painted skies, for the crudo, for the carrots, for the white chocolate budino, and for the comfort I needed to be honest in my creative work.

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