During our trip to Rome this spring, I was reminded of one of the world's great beauties, and that is the espresso - which is a simple coffee to the Italians. Which you'll find at any decent American coffee shop, although it is seldom ordered on its own in this country. I'm not a coffee expert so this post isn't going to answer any scientific questions, or delve into the deeper meaning of coffee and its relation to the human experience. But I will say this: while I prefer a good old cup of drip coffee in the morning - my hands warming on the ceramic mug, sipping as I watch the news - in all other instances an espresso is preferable. For an afternoon pick-me-up or after a meal. I don't know why, but a tiny little espresso is all one needs most of the time, and it delivers the goods without the caffeine rush that can sometimes accompany a regular coffee, or the huge coffee drinks we have become so accustomed to.

Anyway, the point is not to ensure you come away thinking I'm some Italian coffee snob. No, no. My point is far more important than that.

I just needed the intro to point out that last night I attended a Moms Night Out at a local bar and because this event required me staying up past 10 p.m. I decided I needed something to get me through. I sometimes turn to a cup of tea when the afternoon is dragging, but a cup of tea is a cozy drink, a let's-stay-in-on-a-rainy-day-drink. What I needed, friends, was an espresso.

Ideally? Well, ideally I would have made one myself. I used to have a Bialetti coffee maker - the kind you use on the stove top - which makes a very good espresso-type coffee without having to actually use an espresso machine. But my Bialetti has been overused and under-cleaned and I need a new one. So in order to address my occasional espresso fix I'm forced to go to a coffee shop and order one.

I needed an espresso last night and in order to make this happen, I drove to a Starbucks two towns over.

Here's where I diverge from the subject for a second. I love where I live. When J and I were looking for houses, we didn't even know this area existed, but I couldn't be happier we picked it. Just a half-block walk from the Sound, you can often smell the salt water and fresh air of the sea. Morris Cove can be at once adorable and just the tiniest bit questionable. You're down in the park saying your hellos to an elderly couple dressed in matching Madras when all of a sudden some guy in a wifebeater drives his motorcycle down onto the footpath. It's charming like that.

The only major complaint I have about our neighborhood is its lack of proximity to anything remotely useful in a commercial sense. We live somewhat near the town of East Haven, but not in it. New Haven's downtown is extremely close, but the fact that you have to get on 95 and cross a bridge makes it seem far. We're a little isolated.

Listen up entrepreneurs!

Morris Cove needs a coffee shop. I can think of at least two available spots for such a venture, so don't even begin to tell me there isn't a good spot. I'd do it myself, but, I'm not going to lie; I'm just not up for it. I don't have business sense! I'm willing to embark on some crazy adventures, like maybe managing a rock band (don't quote me on that), but I don't have the training, time or common sense to get a coffee shop off the ground.

I know someone out there does, though, so I thought I'd launch this open plea on my blog, which, I'm almost certain, none of my neighbors read. But hey, it's the Internet. Word travels fast on the Internet, right? My neighborhood coffee shop request could become a revolution.

Pass it on, people. Let's make my dream a reality though the power of the World Wide Web, by passing my words from one to another until they land two doors down from my very own house, perhaps with the perfect candidate to take up the challenge. Crazy? Yeah it is. But this is the modern age and that's how we things get done.

Ok. Our coffee shop is coming soon, I have faith. I'll meet you there. For an espresso.