Fluffy stacks plus fresh berries equal pure morning magic. At Maison Anemi in Limassol, the buttermilk pancakes arrive warm, crowned with Greek yoghurt, a whisper of lemon balm, and a berry trio that dreams are made of. I lift the first bite: the pancake is cloud-soft, the yoghurt cool and tangy, the lemon balm bright as a new day, and the berries pop with the scent of summer and promise. The air carries the faint scent of lemon and herb as the sea hums just beyond the window. Morning light pools over the table, turning the plate into a small sun. Eating here feels like a quiet celebration of ordinary hours—the way a single breakfast can stretch into a longer breath, slowing time enough to notice the tremor of the day waking up. Each mouthful is a little ceremony: fluffy texture meeting creamy yoghurt, followed by a chorus of berries that keeps the flavor bright and unhurried. I think about the ritual of mornings themselves—the decision to pause, to savor, to choose nourishment over haste. In Limassol, with the water outside and the city softening into the day, breakfast becomes a map of intention. The lemon balm lends a lemon-kissed calm, the yoghurt cools the sweetness, and the berry trio offers a note of orchard sun. It’s not just food; it’s a reminder that good mornings are made of small, mindful acts. If I’m lucky, I’ll snap a quick photo and tag the moment: @maisonanemi, Limassol, and a nod to #cyprusfoo, so the memory can travel as far as the palate does. Yet the real memory isn’t the post—it’s the quiet aftertaste of lemon balm on the tongue, the soft ache of contentment as the sea continues its ancient conversation with the shore, and the sense that the day has already begun well because I started it here, with warmth, cream, and berries that feel like a bright little dream resting on a plate.