KC Adventures: Plant-Based Plates, City Vibes, and Barista Love

 

When the Barista has a work course to attend, it doesn’t just become a quick trip—it becomes our adventure. And Kansas City? It surprised me.

I came into the trip with a plan. As someone who lived a large portion of life in a bigger body, travel used to mean indulgence and regret. Now, it means balance. I’m here to live, to taste, and to stay on track. This trip reminded me that I can do all three.

The Bumpy Start

It kicked off rough—our first stop was a tiny landmark diner with zero healthy options. The bacon off a BLT? Honestly, that was the win. Not exactly the balanced meal I had in mind, but sometimes, you just roll with it.

City Impressions: Beautiful & Complex

Walking through KC, I was stunned. The city is clean, well-kept, and truly lovely Country Club Plaza district. But there was a lot of visible homelessness. It wasn’t threatening, just... present. The contrast hit me—the kindness of the people didn’t reflect the heavy security presence. Armed guards stood outside so many businesses. It felt off. Yet every person I encountered was warm, genuine, and welcoming.

Weird Vibes & Real Kindness

Now for the weirdest part: I think I gained a stalker. Yup. Someone offered to take me to breakfast, seemed too curious about why I was alone, and then—showed up in the hotel gym. Not working out. Just... watching. Thankfully, a kind stranger clocked the vibes and stayed with me until I felt safe. Angels exist in sweat-wicking gym tees, apparently.

Plant-Based Heaven

Food-wise? Kansas City delivered—plant-based style. I’m still dreaming about Baba’s Pantry, a beautiful Palestinian-owned spot with the best falafel sandwich I’ve ever eaten. The pickled veggies, the texture, the heart in every bite—unforgettable. The decor even matched how I’d decorate my own home: colorful, bold, authentic.

Their story moved me—immigrants making their mark, expressing both their love for their new home and heartbreak for what’s happening in Palestine. The place radiated inclusion and culture.

Another win? Jerusalem Café—the lentil soup, the hummus... my soul sighed with joy. Then came BBQ. Let’s just say, my stomach did not thank me for that one.

Us: A Love Language of Silence

And then there’s the Barista.

If you don’t already know, he’s a man of few words. But those still waters? They run deep. We connect in dry humor and gentle touch, in unspoken understanding. I don’t want to live life without him.

We walked the city, sat in silence. I heard the hum of KC: cars, fountains, sirens, chatter. But in his presence, all I truly heard was love. His quiet empathy, his unwavering support—it’s loud in all the right ways.

Pure Bliss in the Balance

Our hotel room was lovely. The time was sacred. Even with coursework to finish and the school year creeping close, I found balance. We made space for each other. In silence. In laughter. In food. In soft presence.

I left KC with a full heart, a nourished body, and a longing to return—not just for the falafel (though, honestly, that too), but for us.

Bliss. Pure bliss.

-Beth B. Blissful