The doors of Baby Café seemed weightless as they swung open, almost begging passersby in this restaurant-rich neighborhood of Allston to step through them.
The smell of peppery popcorn chicken and sweet-and-sour pork filled the space. But only the idled employees were eating. There weren’t any customers in the leather seats of the booths, wrinkled and ripped by two years of wear and tear.
It was oddly quiet for noon on a Friday, the light jazz music filling what would have otherwise been silence. Tables were set with forks, knives, and spoons, all perfectly lined up on white napkins…