No, “viente” is twenty…

January 12, 2009

New York City is a magical and wonderfully accommodating city that thoughtfully provides all of its citizens with 15 square feet of personal space with which all New Yorkers can constantly be in their own space. Unfortunately, everyone’s personal 15 feet overlaps with someone else’s, making the place seem a tad impersonal at all times. Sure, it’s unfair to stereotype all New York coffeehouses based on my assessment of a half dozen, but like it says on the back of a U.S. $100 dollar bill: “Stereotyping makes life much less complicated and much more consistent. “

Today I had the pleasure of checking out not one but two fine coffee establishments in the Brooklyn, NY area. I spent at least a half hour online searching Brooklyn for a suitable establishment to procure my “hand picked, hand ground, hot Colombian bean juice” (thank you Roger Fox) and satisfy my insatiable loitering needs. Two places caught my interest, and one was actually satisfying.

Honey, that's one biiiiiig muffin.

Honey, that's one biiiiiig muffin.

The first was about as satisfying as the picture looked. Sure, they gave me what I asked for, but fell short of providing me with what I needed. My first stop was Maria’s Coffee shop. Essentially it felt like a Baskin Robbins that ran out of ice cream and, in a panic, started serving coffee and unusually large pastries. The florescent lighting and bright colors were the real deal breakers. Regardless of what I thought, plenty of other patrons seemed to enjoy it just fine. Perhaps I’m just weird, or as the Northeasterners call it “from the Northwest.”

My personal recommendation goes to Uro (277 Driggs Ave, Brooklyn, NY).



The place pretty much nailed the vibe I was looking for. It had a hip logo, friendly baristas, an inviting atmosphere, unobtrusive music, and except for the fact that about 75% of the floor plan was behind the counter, I dug the place. It seemed more designed for the European pound-your-espresso-and-go experience (it is, after all, in the middle of little Poland), but they were thoughtful enough to give American loiterers somewhere to sit.

I [heart] NY. I truly do.


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