Cafe Pamplona, Harvard Square, Cambridge, Massachusetts, USA. I still go to Boston on occasion to visit my old crew and my old apartment. Cafe Pamplona feeds my soul and I go out of my way to get there. You go down a set of six narrow stairs to a basement with a low ceiling, there is no music playing, almost no light, there are nine little marble tables, people from Harvard speaking in four different languages, there’s a killer old-world Spanish garlic soup, and the decor hasn’t changed since 1952.
