Me, Myself and Caffeine: Drinking Coffee in NYC

Everybody knows that I’m a coffee fiend. Coworkers, friends, family, the guy on 44TH and 6th handing out “Free Hair Cut” Flyers, they all know.

Over the course of the last 10 years, my journey through life has been an eventful one. After 4 years at college in Bethlehem, PA, I took a job in Princeton, after which I worked and lived in Chicago, before starting to commute between New York and Chicago; all before finally taking a new job and moving back to east to live in New York. Throughout this roller coaster ride of variables and vagaries, there was but one constant…my good friend coffee.

Trapped in a Double Tree hotel in downtown Nashville on a mindless consulting project that would make Tony Robbins want to hang himself, it was coffee that helped me keep my head on straight.

As I sat in heated wait, stranded in a desolate, Colts-themed Continental Airlines Terminal at Indianapolis Airport due to bad weather, my only comfort was drawn from the proud cup of brand-less Joe before me. It was this cup that prevented me from fixating on the mephitic stink of defeat and depression coming from the over-perfumed woman in the chair next to me.

Perhaps most triumphant, was the 12-hour solo journey back to New Jersey from Chicago, during which my relationship with coffee would show its truest colors. As I descended upon the Chicago Skyway at 4:30 AM on an early April morn, I smiled widely and took the inaugural swig of a giant Dunkin Donuts coffee; an act that screamed, “I’m back baby!” Progressing eastward at 70 miles an hour while navigating the blinding back spray that blanketed a redoubtable Route 80 replete with runaway 18-wheelers, I clung to a muddy, thrice-brewed gas-station Joe that continuously insisted I’d be just fine. Approaching my final destination, I bored straight through the mountainous jaws of the Delaware Water Gap, gleefully cheering at the “Welcome to New Jersey” sign that awaited me on the other side of the river. I was finally home. As I came to this realization, I sipped the remainder of a cold, bitter, fermented cup of 2 hour-old joe that tasted oh so good.

We made it good buddy, and I couldn’t have done it without you.

It shouldn’t surprise anyone that at any moment, the only reason I’m not talking about going for coffee is because I’m actually drinking one. I see nothing abnormal about my relationship with the dark water, yet in most circles I am perceived as strange, if not completely flawed for drinking so much of it so often. People always say to me with sickening righteous conviction, "I like coffee, but I don’t want to be addicted to it." That’s like me saying “I like your face, but I’d rather not look at it.” It’s absurd and unfounded. If you like coffee, then drink it, if you don’t like it, well then don’t drink it.

Every day of my life begins and ends with coffee and that will never change. It may sound silly to say that this dark delectable drink is part of who I am, but in a way it really is. The almighty cup of Joe has seen me through the countless highs and lows that have sculpted the still malleable statue that is my life. I've had many life-altering conversations with a coffee in hand, most positive, others discouraging, and almost all crucial to where I am today. And yet while coffee will always have a place in the lives of the gregarious and the convivial, I truly believe this ancient elixir harnesses powers that are only fully unleashed when enjoyed in the absence of all others. A cup of java by my lonesome is as therapeutic and enlightening for me as a morning run, or reading the paper, may be for another. It is the Saturday morning coffee that allows you to plan your life, while the Sunday night edition lets you reflect upon it. I think Juan Valdez said that, or maybe it was his trusty mule.

Though I could go on for hours about the existential implications stemming from the apparent philosophical intersection of life and coffee, I won’t. I’ll spare you the Freudian flummery, and instead, throw out some quick ideas about where you can get yourself a solid cup of Joe in this town. Here are they are in no specific order:

Joe The Art of Coffee: This tiny cafe on Waverly Place just west of 6th Avenue isn't nearly as heady on the inside as its title may lead you to believe. Even so, the drip coffee here is fresh, bold and robust, served in a diminutive space that is more cramped than a behind-schedule NJ transit bus en route to Paterson. The cappuccino is exceptional and reasonably priced at about $3.50. In fact, all bar drinks are made with unmistakable precision and the staff is very friendly, but at times, cordial chit chat with regulars slows things down. This proves especially annoying when I’m trying to get in and out fast and the guy in front of me smells like patchouli. Their pastries are worth noting, especially the donuts which are bought in from Doughnut Plant in the Lower East Side. Despite its laurels, I don't like the fact that Joe closes at 8pm every night, a bit self-serving if you ask me. Nonetheless, If you're in the area check it out for a great cup, but remember to go elsewhere if you're looking to kill time confabulating with friends.

Jack's Coffee: Jack’s is another tea cup-sized coffee place in the West Village that is a bit more under the radar than Joe TAOC. Nestled on a less traveled strip of West 10th between Greenwich Ave and Waverly, this place pulls mostly locals as opposed to random street traffic. It’s even smaller than Joe and really not at all conducive to hanging around. They have a few small tables for sitting in, but sit a couple people down and thing get tight quickly. The coffee here is fun to drink and right on point, boasting more body and girth than Joe. Jack’s too, offers a selection of morning goodies all of which seem to be organic (they taste it too). Because of its location and limited hours (they close at 7 during the week!), I really don’t find myself ever in a position to seek out this place, unless it’s the summer time when I’m more mobile in the early weekend AM (who isn’t?) If you live by Jack’s, I suggest you check it out, you’ll like the coffee which is fairly priced, but the tiny space will compel you to drink your dark stuff elsewhere.

The Grey Dog: If you live in the Village, chances are you are familiar with this often crowded neighborhood haunt on up and coming Carmine St. Half café, half restaurant, The Grey Dog is as much an established casual eatery serving breakfast, lunch and dinner, as it is a coffee shop. Menu aside, like Jack’s and Joe, the coffee here is tasty. Sometimes, you will get a bad pot where the coffee is burnt and over brewed, though this doesn’t happen often, and is forgivable since every pot can’t be perfect right? This is a great spot to sit down with a cup to contemplate life, or read the Post (or the New York Times for you fiction lovers) on a Sunday morning. Though as the day progresses, things here get hectic as hoards of late-morning “brunchers” clamor for seating. This makes it necessary to get here early on weekends before all the commotion. By nightfall, The Grey Dog sheds its casual, “just living life” village vibe, for a more lounge-like feel evoked by dim lighting and vibrant music overlaid with buzzing table chatter. TGD is a great place for a quick take-out cup or to catch up with a friend, but unless you don’t mind waiting to sit, I’d steer clear of the typical rush hour.

J&B Coffee & Tea: Probably my favorite spot for coffee in the Village, this closet-sized shop on West 3rd between MacDougal and 6th is a true gem. With only a few tiny tables for sitting, family owned and operated J&B thrives on a steady and healthy take-out business marked by droves of repeat customers. This is the kind of place where they remember how you take your coffee and won’t overcharge you for doing it. The coffee here is simple, strong, and consistent; and a real bargain at only a $1 for a small. Students, suits, and everybody in between, flood this shoebox of a joint to pick up their morning fill, me being one of them. Amidst all of NYC’s gourmet café’s brewing “fair-trade”, shade-grown, “sung-to” brews made by baristas with more training than a college professor, J&B still proudly represents a good ole’ New York City coffee shop that makes you want to come back. If you don’t mind paying less money for a good coffee on the run, go to J&B, it might be your first time, but it won’t be your last.

Think Coffee: If ever there was a coffee shop that encapsulated the true vibe of the Village, Think Coffee on Mercer between West 3rd and West 4th might be it. Think is the quintessential Village coffee house, charging you capitalist prices while preaching socially liberal values. The shop is filled with homemade posters, bulletin board ads, and stacks upon stacks of free flyers promoting the local underground scene. By far the largest operation of any in the neighborhood, the giant space is filled with couches and armchairs in the back, and high tables in the front. Aesthetics aside and more important, the drip coffee is thick and masculine and packs just enough acidity to set it apart from lots of other local joints. As much as I enjoy a cup here, I really only patronize this place on the weekends, when I stop in to grab a “warm-up” joe before I hit the weights at the New York Sports Club down the street. At this time of day (8 am on Saturday), I have the whole place to myself. Unfortunately, with its proximity to NYU, Think becomes rather hectic and unwelcoming after 9 AM on any day when droves of pseudo-hipster Clintonites and artistically starved NYUers set up shop for hours, showing off their Apple products and perusing The Huffington Post all while pretending to actually study. All this commotion undoubtedly makes conversation with others rather taxing and ultimately unappealing, especially if you’re a Republican. Think has a good brew, but I like my coffee without milk, sugar, or even the slightest dash of left-wing politics.

I was going to talk about Esperanto Café, two doors down from me on MacDougal St, but I’ll save it for its own post. I’ll explain why NOBODY should be frequenting this dump. More to come…