The Bagel Oven

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Outside, people trickled into this glass door in a strip mall—or, I apologize, shopping center. The bafflement was probably visible on my face. What was drawing people to a bagel place at noon? When I walked inside, no one was at the counter, as though the people I saw were phantom bagel buyers. My focus remained on the high counter, trying to get a look at the bagels beyond the danishes and butter cookies, but what I saw nestled a few steps past the self-serve coffee answered my question: a hot & cold buffet. I’d gotten so used to laser-focused bagel places, offering endless variety, that I’d stopped considering the nature of serving. You want a bagel here? They’ll select, toast, and slather it for you. You want something else? Well, you’ve come to a bagel place, so go ahead and arrange another meal yourself—kind and amount. There are a few seats inside and a few outside, and they are put to good use. I found my nook, backed by the chips and pushed up against the wall, with a view of the window and only enough room for two chairs (at a four-sided table). It made my day. I could be out of the way while still caught by distance glares of the DELI and HOT FOOD neons and remain within earshot of Spanish serenades. In fact, most of people—still arriving and departing steadily—spoke Spanish. What however broke out between exchanges about mayonesa, ketchup, and queso? Bagel. Bagels are the ultimate bridge of bodega, diner, and grab-n-go vibes.  

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Drink: Coffee

I tried every coffee…just to make sure. First sip was the French vanilla, and it unfortunately had that fake vanilla flavor to it, like in cereal. Then I tried the hazelnut and decided that was for me. 

Hmm, let me try the regular, just in case.

Best decision. I had liked the hazelnut because of the gentle yet salient nut flavor, but the regular had this characteristic plus its own toasty chocolate and fruits. It’s ambitious enough to stand on its own, but nothing intimidating or combative with whatever food (if you grab food) you choose. 

•••

Food: Garlic Bagel with Scallion Cream Cheese

What I noticed immediately was that this place channels the bagel spots of old. You have 10 bagel choices, 5 smears, and eggs or bacon if you’re looking to be a little extra. A list of toppings? Nope. Cream cheese questionably swirled? As if—not even strawberry makes the cut. The bagel itself was toasted perfectly, darkened a tad, and the cream cheese amount wasn’t disgustingly heavy or stingy. One odd thing: as far as I can remember, I’ve ever experienced cream cheese dripping. The cream cheese broke down enough between the bagel halves to drip. No problem in my eyes, but it’s something to be aware of. The cream cheese goes full cream when you toast the bagel. I also grabbed some avocado and tomato salad, coleslaw, red onion, carrots, and celery from the cold bar as “toppings.” While not necessary (the bagel existed fine on its own), I’d recommend going this route if you’re looking for something that resembles lunch (which I was). It spiced things up just enough. 

Price: $10.58 in total (12oz. Coffee=$2; Scallion cream cheese on a bagel=$4.29; cold bar=$4.29 - $10.99 per pound)

Hours: Monday–Saturday {6–19}; Sunday {6–16}

Coffee Labs Roasters (Tarrytown)

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Dogs are the thematic base, and it is puissant, but anyone claiming that the cafe succumbs to this theme would be mistaken. What it is a cafe with Main Street character...it also happens to have an endearing constant. The walk in, under a brick—painted in a rectilinear Dalmatian pattern—archway already hints at an experience. The distinction is that oftentimes I come across interior and operation, but these do not guarantee follow-through. A salutation in a story-time voice from of the barista repping Dungeons and Dragons in a bright red t-shirt pulls your attention to the counter, tethers you despite the graphed exhibition of for-sale art—including Warholian celebrities and colorized marine quiddities—and the Diedrich roaster going full speed ahead. I have yet to come across another cafe that has not only included its roaster, but has had it active and heralded it in its own corner, one backgrounded by a painted motion picture scene of a brown lab in a Bel-Air, driving away from a beach after presumably bursting through the wall and oversized coffee beans. After regarding the twig shelves with letters and numbers, free-handed into drinks and prices, sit in a Kody upholstered, honey faux leather side chair, stay in a booth, wait in a stool at the French window, go ahead and find the right fit. This cafe is of a different breed: well-trained, loving, and—most importantly—comprehending what all that means.

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Drink: Cortado

IT’S A BITTER BETTY, AND WE LOVE HER. If you need sugar in regular coffee, get ready to steal a handful of Sugar In The Raw. No, in my estimation, the flavor profile isn’t caramel or cherries, but bakers chocolate and  perhaps an ever-so-slight almond (baked almonds might be most accurate—not toasted). If the flavor, the precision, and the presentation weren’t enough, the actual latte art IS A DOG. I’m smitten, absolutely smitten. It’s definitely the move if you are having a ruff day or just want to add up the day’s smile count. 

•••••

Price: Cortado=$3.87*

*The board appears to say that the small cortado costs $3.15 and a large costs $3.87. I got charged the higher price and at first thought that this had to do with me getting the drink to stay. However, I looked at the menu again and macchiato is on the same line as cortado. I don't think that a small cortado exists (and honestly, rightly so).

Hours: Monday–Friday {6:45–17}; Saturday–Sunday {6:45–18:30}

✓ WIFI

Extra Notes:

A quick note about the WIFI: it’s limited to two hours, and it seems to really only work on a laptop. So, you might have trouble accessing the network on your phone

Willoughby’s Coffee & Tea

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My immediate association: Ebenezer’s Coffee in Washington D.C. I can’t tell you why my brain went there, but to say this neurological pulse is in this cafe’s favor is an understatement. Ebenezer’s holds a special place in my heart. But, that’s mere impression. Where we’re at is at Willoughby’s, with a walk-up and two seemingly incomplete, plaster composite columns. The column inside goes full Tuscan, and, it appears to hold the whole cafe up, only made more formidable and glamorized by a mural of brown and while pixelation. Sunlight pours in from Grove Street through floor-to-ceiling windows with thin black supports and even thinner hatching in the top quartile. Simple arrangements of two chairs per square table are the only staying arrangement, and I’m sure there couldn’t have been a smarter move. This way, the sun and street offers dynamisms free of disruption and the whole space gives in to glistening—where and when the cafe space ends and the whole bean operation and store begins. Whereas I can get behind the stained glass pendant lights, patterned with edgy webs, I think that the dry-erase board menus and “serious coffee” lists feel more convenient than fitting or of intentional design.

Then again…

A new coffee has arrived, morning inspiration compels changing the feature from Ethiopian to Columbia, we’ve changed out minds...I can’t argue with this rush and a set up that excises the question “will it” and replaces it with the resolve “it ought to be.”

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Drink: Small Soy Latte

It’s pleasant enough. Despite knowing exactly how sweet soy milk is when it’s steamed, it still always manages to surprise me. I was able to sip this drink with no problems, everything—coffee, soy milk, temperature—landing comfortably.

•••

Price: Small Soy Latte=$4.25

Hours: Monday–Friday {7–16}; Saturday–Sunday {8–15}

✓ WIFI

Extra Notes:

The WIFI network I used (and with success) was Yale’s guest network.

Café Maho

Sadly, there is no panorama for this cafe. Why? My phone was stolen minutes away from this place. Fair warning: this hafe (see description below) is not in the best neighborhood.

One thing you should know about Brussels that no one tells you: it is very Middle Eastern. That circumstance might run counter to how you expected a country, sculpted in the wake of its colonizing neighbors. 36% percent of its residents are of backgrounds ranging Moroccan to Sub-Saharan African (according to the World Population Review), and—within the city center and its immediate surroundings—it is impossible not to notice. If you see some kind of coffee imagery, smoke, or come seemingly kitschy name including the word cafe or coffee, you are more than likely going to walk into a cash-only bar with an espresso machine. These establishments are so prevalent, that I’m inclined to give them another name. They aren’t the intention of Poland’s klubokawiarni, but they do exhibit a nature unlike houses of drink and certainly of cafes. I’m going to call them hafes (the Arabic word for bar + cafes). This hafe has the comings and goings at 11:00 of any bar in slumber, with some casino machines and the phantom of smoke tickling the air. For a coffee goer, it offers a solo seat against a table of slats topped with plexi glass and sunlight does not breach the bar and the space beyond. However, just before this point it alights a dropped ceiling beam where a few plants stay out of trouble. Kindly treated and connected to the WIFI, it’s all the needed makings woven into something less familiar, but bad in no notable way. 

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Drink: Coffee

While the coffee wasn’t anything to write home about, for the smell and the cup, patterned in Christmas plaid, it was worth it. Strangely enough, the coffee pulled by the Astoria Had a zing, but it wasn’t anything standout. While I think that this cup of coffee could reasonably scored a two, it wasn’t undrinkable or rude for which I was extremely grateful. 

•••

Price: Coffee=1.50€

Hours: No idea. I had pictures of the hours on my stolen phone. All I can say for certain is that it is open after 11:00 on a Monday. Because it’s primarily a bar, it is probably open late.

✓ WIFI

Muddy Water

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Never did I for a second think, after walking by this cafe over a dozen times during daytime and midnight walks to the Tarrytown train station, that this would be the place where I’d get recommended A Bronx Tale. Yet, this scenario is exactly what played out. Admittedly, it’s a little less cut and dry actually. It was the result of a Witness Protection Program joke. Now I’m realizing that this may have just muddied the waters. A conflating irony? Okay, now I’m just having too much fun with this. I’ll make my way to the point. It’s a decent-sized space, glass-paneled pastry crate at the front and the order counter just before you hit the back room which is definitely related to the space up front, adopting a slightly toned down character—the quieter sibling? You’ll find an unabashed array of seating in both areas, sofas and stools, painted ladderback and cushioned French-bistro-style chairs, but the leading arrangement opts for primary colors, even in the paintings for sale, while the rear is softer, with coffee bean sacks sagging atop one another and black and white art, sketches and photographs findings more prominence. Keep heading back, and you’ll find yourself in their red-and-silver furnished back garden, the perfect outdoor complement to main window display of indoor greenery. In fact, through the garden entrance and this back area came in a disheveled fellow, who looked a little uneasy. He walked up to the counter, laughed with the woman working for a minute, and soon exited...plunger in hand. None of the stories within these walls seem to have their anticipated endings. 

“One of these things,” a man who had entered with presumably his wife and daughter pointed to the aforementioned pastries.

“The almond croissants,” the barista tried to clarify.

“Yeah, the almonds with the sugar.”

This order was certainly my favorite. 

With an understanding of the space established…the Witness Protection Program joke. Oh, I’m dearly sorry for straining you along this long. I had gone to take my panorama, and in doing so interrupted a conversation between the barista—carrying the social interactions for the coffee slinging duo—and a customer in a tight dusty blue tee. He playfully froze and remarked that he was in the Witness Protection Program. 

“I would respect that if it were true, but you wouldn’t be able to tell me,” I responded.

He didn’t break, simply moved to the side, making a few more quips as he went.

“Have you seen A Bronx Tale,” he asked. 

“Can’t say that I have. Wait, how old is it,” I curiously pandered. 

“Oh it’s old. You should watch it.”

He paused briefly then added: “Do you like Romance?”

I guess something about me screamed Rom-Com girl. 

I decided to indulge this very typical fifties-man-with-young-woman exchange, where so many things are assumed and nothing is truly said.

“You should watch From Scratch, on Netflix,” he continued. He made his way to the bathroom then, and I retreated back into comfortable obscurity.

If I said it once, I’ll say it again: treading in these waters, only anticipate unanticipated endings…and a few film recommendations.

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Drink: Cappuccino

The first sip...eh. The second sip *becomes the Robert Redford nodding in Jeremiah Johnson*. Their espresso blend pokes its head up sneakily. Rarely do I enjoy something that I’d describe as sneaky. But, you know what, there is always room for a rarity.

•••

Price: Cappuccino=$3.95

Hours: Monday–Friday {8–16}; Saturday–Sunday {8–17}

✓ WIFI

Main Street Sweets

UPDATE 8.4.23: I took my father here, and he got a small cone of the Main Street Special: coffee ice cream with fudge ribbon and chocolate chunks. He enjoyed it, and I tried a sample too. But, again, my dad had to almost jump the counter to get the young women’s attention. It was awful to watch. My dad is a six-foot-one fortification. I guess my point is just when they ignore you, don’t be offended. It’s not you.

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There’s always a line. Always. And, while waiting for ice cream isn’t ideal, an always-wait guarantees one thing: it’s good. Now, while I enthusiastically waited on the line that went out the door during the Main St closure for the town’s PRIDE festivities, I was less enthusiastic to wait when all I wanted was coffee the second time around. I had asked, and I was told. However, once I let another young woman know over the ice cream that I was just grabbing coffee, she told me to go down to the register. Nothing like a fun game of mixed messaging. I’d completely like to leave this circumstance though aside, because coming here for PRIDE was the highlight of my annual celebrations (given that New York City was out of the question this year). At that time, standing in the porchway, a parting of a window display, fun was to be had: 

“Who is this ke-mo sah-bee,” one in the duo behind me remarked. Oh, I have no context. More than alright.

Over the threshold, a scene of a man being handed coffee:

“We’re out of sleeves, but it’s not too hot,” a young kid with bedhead said. Charmed. I’ll forever be a sucker for some customer coffee courtesy. 

Inching in ever closer to a Spanish woman and her curious child, a light pink hoodie and sandals figure, running the ice cream freezer relay several times, I passed over the half-carpet, half-runner that is intended for your way out. “HAVE A SWEET DAY,” it read over a three-scoop, stacked cone. Who could argue that any other moment wasn’t just as fitting for this messaging? Watching each forward step, you’ll also notice a true rug stamped with the all-encompassing logo also laid at the register. But, a look up is rewarded. Not only are the menus chaotic orchestrations of animated chirography and illustrations of fruits, floats, and banana splits spilling off on all sides but also the left wall exhibits a time’s facades of Main Street, rendered with a PBS palette. This painting covers the full wall—down back to the few tables of seating. And here, it’s finally time to turn, order, and continue down to the register. The woman in front of me struggled; she didn’t speak English and was using her phone and a friend to get her order in. The girl who was scooping didn’t laugh or get frustrated at all (given how busy things were), and I couldn’t help but be impressed by this maturity. I ordered from the bedhead fellow, the courteous one with the coffee, and that’s when one of the ke-mo sah-bee suspects spoke up beside me:

“I like your horn.”

I thanked them, and then pointed to the unicorn on the counter. 

“We’re matching,” I offered playfully.

“No, but I like your ears,” they said, gesturing towards my headband, on which the inside of my unicorn ears were rainbow. How could I argue? 

As I exited past the pastry case and a line that was just as long as when I’d originally arrived, sweet smells and talk swirled intoxicatingly about. Yet, a juggling act of purple cone and more unexpected horn compliments has got to be this cafe’s perfect “and, scene.” 

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Drink: Cappuccino

Man...man. I heard her going for the steamer, and it sounded like someone sprucing up a car engine. Pssssst pssssst pshhhhhhhhh. And this was only the moment when I tuned in to the cappuccino making process. I have no idea how long it had been going like this…it was extremely hot. A rarity: I wished that I had a sleeve. The sweetness (if there was any to begin with) was completely gone. Whatever the espresso was, I couldn’t discern it from the gutted milk. The bugs at the park wouldn’t even go for it. That’s how you know. No, the milk wasn’t scorched, but it was absolutely on the cusp. I’m just happy it didn’t taste “bad.” And by bad I mean a cappuccino that I’d had only a few days prior that I drank, hearing change hit the bottom of my wallet with each sip. 

••

Food: Maxwell’s Main Street Mash-Up on a GF Purple Cone

This scoop is one of the better vanilla-based ice creams I’ve ever had. When I licked it, I thought I was coming into contact with a pretzel chip. Nope. It was a full-on pretzel shard. While the deal supposedly included a sticker with it, it didn’t come to pass. I’m not too heartbroken because it was yummy. 

Price: Maxwell’s Main St. Mash Up on a GF Purple Cone=$4.93; Cappuccino=$4.25

Hours: Everyday {11:30–23}

Ice Cream Social

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Think leotards and 80s hair. Now think of the environment you’d expect to find these things in. Take this concept and fuse it structurally with a former gas station and a patio constructed from the simple addition of brick pillars. Voila: you have this ice cream shop. It’s not surprising to gaze upon ice cream freezers and hear the on again-off again flavor, size, and topping commentary. Yet, the deliberations on a sea of bubble gum pink and jewel-toned stripes on the walls—like the beams of an otherworldly energy passing through—were somehow based differently. “It really does taste like a creamsicle,” the woman next to me said to her friend, holding up her spoon like some kind of holy artifact. If you do sit inside, you’re surrounded—give it a minute. The deep-freezers disguise themselves as part of those beams again, that culminate into a Powerpuff Girl accent wall. Every so often, like penguins dipping into holes in the ice, the staff will come back and dive for ice cream beyond the front-of-house flavors. While most of the activity comes from the bathroom, it isn’t the distraction one might expect—just an added berry pink element among that of  the cotton candy chairs. What does the dedicated palette and strung shimmering tulle ultimately churn out? A sweet something worth scooping into your day’s dish.

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Drink: Oat Latte

My hopes weren’t the highest here—simply an ice cream shop kindness (NOT cynicism). They have coffee as a complement to ice cream, and to demand beyond that is inconsiderate. However, when I saw the Coffee Labs decal on the front window, my spirits lifted. For an ice cream shop to invest in local (and attestable) coffee is an indicator of someone behind the scenes with taste. Now, how good was it? The staff member didn’t know how to use the Rancilio (so another woman helped her), so she ended up being very careful with the milk. While she didn’t burn it (something that people often do with oat milk because the scorching temperature is lower than dairy milk), she might have been na little too light handed—quite the rarity. I loved that the cup was full; I could see it going well with any ice cream due to its nonconfrontational body; and the pink sleeve was the visual lip-smack, for which I was appreciative.

•••

Drink: Brownie Sundae

This was a sundae for a million. Like, wow. It was so much that it wouldn’t stay in the cup. Was the third pump of hot fudge a bit much? I think the Heath bar crumbles is also overkill, but it does offer something that makes it feel renewed. While the whipped cream is soft, surprisingly, it stays peaked under the hot fudge and as you poke down to the ice cream layers, does not deflate. You can get any ice cream you want, so I ended up with the Coffee Cookie and Cookies and Creme. These choices were baller. At about a third of the way through, my progress began to slow. I wouldn’t consider myself a fan of how the employee had pulverized brownie on the bottom and added hot fudge. It ended up almost hardening at the bottom. It doesn’t help that the hot fudge is not the best quality. At about 60% through it, I wondered how much more I could eat without getting sick. All my fault if I got sick. The sundae was blameless…mostly. Ice cream and whipped cream are tricky though—they have a very short shelf life. This point is also when I started to look up places to run in the area. I like that you can choose the kind of brownie for the sundae. If sugar is killing us all, eating this dessert shaved a decade off my life. When I had about an 1/8 left, I threw in the towel. My thoughts: I’m going to have to get on Ozempic. I’m so glad I had a salad for lunch. At one bite, I felt like I might vomit. I wasn’t strong enough. That’s when I said no more. My skinnied, former-fat kid body couldn’t take it.

Price: Brownie Sundae=$12; Oat Latte=$4.25 (+Oat Milk=$0.50)

Hours: Sunday–Thursday {12–21}; Friday–Saturday {12–22}

Dominic’s Delicatessen

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The lady with the burgundy bandana-beanie hybrid on her head, sweatshirt tied around her waist, and socks and CROCS on her feet shifted out of the way of the door as I approached. Soon, she was behind the counter, the voice past a loose-leaf sheet sign reading “PLEASE KEEP PROPER DISTANCE 6 FEET,” holiday cards from the O’Dell family, and four tightly-wrapped golden muffins. But see, ordering is only the beginning of this deli on Main Street, the cannoli shell if you will. The filling delivers the dessert. Shelves of Italian favorites and specialties—Loacker products, MUTTI sauces and pastes, blue and gilded pouches of Cav. Giuseppe Cocco pastas, and CANTUCCINI—abound and at the second rug is a case of deli meats and cheeses. The menus are black chalkboards, white chalk markers, proper menus that leave the efforts of digesting to the food. It might still seem like this deli is a bit too ricotta... 

“Cause like a good neighbor, Virgi is thereeeeeeeeeeeeeee!...that’s me,” sung the central character to this story. She had just helped out a customer, and her whimsy could not contain the thrill of it. 

“You’ve got an Italian, aye,” she asked one customer as she rang him up.

“I got an Italian gyro, absolutely,” he proudly confirmed. 

It’s this kind of sandwich certainty, small town gossip, and sometimes cringeworthy exchanges that fuels a boisterousness that resembles New York City if it swallowed a chill pill. Each and every conversation starts with a yell followed by words.

Knock, knock, knock.

“Anyone home,” came in one regular, knocking on the ordering counter. 

He was a fire starter, and it was an older gentleman. that answered his call, coming out to talk about the crash at the Chinese food restaurant a block away that happened yesterday. 

“You complain about everything,” the graying character said after the customer prattled off a few remarks. He went outside and soon, the customer boomed back to Virgi: “I’m gonna take whatever’s left of the macaroni salad—pack it up for me.”

“I’m gonna join Pop outside,” he continued and was out the door, abandoning the stool at the window counter most deeply in the record nook. 

“No meat on her,” Virgi called out in song during Louis Prima & Keely Smith’s “Boney Bones.”

Really, I could stop here. But alas, there is one more curiosity: the Sri Lankan elephants’ presence. You read that right. Wooden statues above the higher set of shelves and a jade necklace, further ornamenting a lampshade of metalwork and orange and blue stained glass, raise some questions. Interestingly though, I think I have the answer. You may have picked up the zest, the maraschino cherries, and mini chocolate chips—remember, this delicatessen cannoli has been piped with something flavorful. These elephants are the last little note, the cinnamon pinch. 

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Drink: Small Coffee

“Got time to wait? Or, do you want an iced coiffee?” No, that isn’t a typo. The lady at the register earned her New York stripes with a full-on coffee accent. Also not a typo. There’s a New York accent, a Long Island accent, a Bronx accent, a Staten Island accent, a Queens accent, and a coffee/deli accent. She hit that final one hard. In a generic cup, patterned like dried mango and stamped with some coffee clip art, along with eco sleeve that is just as utilitarian, the coffee she handed me was hot very hot but not mouth burning—a familiar kind of deli counter sorcery. At first, there was no flavor, a product really offering the comfort of coffee more than anything else. As sips went down, it gradually made its way to coffee status, nothing standout but certainly nothing that siphoned away from the experience either. And, importantly, I’m certain that it wouldn’t clash with any sandwich choice.

•••

Price: Small Coffee=$1.50

Hours: Monday–Saturday {6:30–17}; Sunday {CLOSED}

Extra Notes:

There is a Dominic15 WIFI network, but I think that it’s just for store use if anything.

Food*: N/A

*They’re food selection is pretty great, so I’d recommend joining the ranks of male compatriots and grabbing a sandwich if you ever get the opportunity. The lady at the register at one point responded to a customer’s order with the following: “Would you like garlic aioli or Chipotle aioli?” Would you like delicious or delicious?

Longfellow’s Coffee (Mahwah)

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A painting of a torso in a tube top with American flag skin was what caught my breath; the rolling board game table doubling as a high-top table was what won my heart. But the corporal jostles started earlier on the drive in. You don’t pull so much into a parking lot as you veer off the main road once you’ve cleared the Ernie’s Ice Cream line and just before you hit the laundromat. In the main windows of the cafe are your promotions—enlarged-to-show-detail cups and perfect versions of new drink offerings—but also a yellow arrow pointing left and reading “Exit Only! Enter through the side door.” Okay, you’ve followed the arrow...back to the inside. To me, this cafe achieves a new characterization lens rather than exercises excessive innovation or elaborateness. Maybe it’s the shelves densely packed with house made syrups—you’ve got your brown sugar cinnamon, blueberry, and bourbon, vanilla bean, toasted marshmallow, and raspberry—or maybe it’s the inviting burgundy wall: “Add your own sticker to our sticker wall!” On second thought, maybe it’s the nod to their original location in the form of an oval “Drive-thru coffee/espresso” sign hanging next to a panel of a painted hyper-close up of a trumpeter, or the mini day-old pastries tower (love a discount and efforts to reduce food waste). But no, even with all these worthy qualities, there’s something radiantly quirky about the place. Then a man in a Barbie pink polo marched up to the counter: 

“No baguettes, ehhh??”

That was not the yell I was expecting.

“No, we just ran out,” the barista confirmed.

He still ordered an array of pastries. The quirks continued with an elongated consideration of how well lavender and espresso go together between the barista and a young woman who was in town to stop by the nearby saddlery. After I spoke with the owner, it was jarringly apparent that this undercurrent was no accident. During one point of our chat, we were casually exploring a cafe’s many iterations—standing only, no laptops, driver-thrus, grab-and-gos, everything in between. 

“If you do get a seat here,” he said, gesturing to a two-seater just to his left.

“You win.”

Well, I’d beg to differ. With that step taken over the threshold—long before you search for a place to sit—you’ve already won.

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Drink: Small Iced Peach Cobbler Latte with Coconut Milk

It’s playful. God, it’s playful. When she spun it out to me, shaking her hand as free of milky peachy goodness as she could, I didn’t know what to expect. What I can say is that I’ve never tasted anything quite like it. It doesn’t achieve full peaches and cream (my fear), but it doesn’t want for the flavor either. As I deliberated, the barista first directed me to the baristas recommendations (a crazy smart element for all those souls swimming aimlessly in a sea of options) and then they recommended the Father’s Day special: cold brew with bourbon-flavored cold foam. While this drink was enticing, I was down bad and needed espresso. With two more days until summer, nabbing the spring special on its last days made sense. I never thought that I would enjoy peach and espresso together, but the small version of the peach cobbler latte was just the right amount of decadent and delicate (with the coconut milk). 

•••

Price: Small Peach Cobbler Latte=$6.25 (Iced Latte=$5.25+Syrup=$1)

Hours: Sunday–Thursday {7–17}; Friday–Saturday {7–18}

✓ WIFI

The Black Cow Coffee Company

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Select The Black Cow on Google Maps NOT Black Cow Coffee. They are at the same address, but the latter fails to have you turn right onto Hospital Access Rd. Probably a good time to mention: this cafe is inside of Phelps Hospital. First of all, kudos to whoever worked out having a local coffee purveyor steer the cafe activity on the premises rather than turning to the Pete’s, Starbucks, and Dunkins of the world. Second, to get to this unexpected taste of the homegrown past the sliding glass turnstile, you need to get a visitors pass from Chaira at the front desk. Well, Chaira was who took my ID and printed my key to coffee acquisition. I’m forever in her debt. And, it is at this point that—before you turn down the Main Hospital corridor—the cafe counter appears against a backdrop of dusty plum before you. You might expect donuts and muffins vacuum-sealed in Saran Wrap, but I bet you didn’t see the Penny jars of assorted rugelach and pre-packaged baked goods by New York bakers The Hungry Gnome, baked by Susan, and Thistle Baking Company coming. Why not just have Nutri-Grain and KIND bars? Lays on the chips display? Absolutely not. Try Chuno-Artisanal Plantain chips and Bobo’s. Even if the product pride wasn’t  so abundantly apparent, the barista was cool as a cucumber. With “A Blues Serenade” by Frank Chacksfied and His Orchestra blessing my ears during my extended moment in the space, delineated only by a glass pane of frosty leaves, I overheard one order that caulked the remainder of my thoughts:

“Cappuccino.”

“What size?”

“Cappuccino.”

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Drink: Coffee

It was a little too hot, but I can more than forgive it. It had some kind of body and flavor for which I was more than grateful. A Papa New Guinea coffee, it read medium body, and that’s what I’d immediately registered. This coffee is one of the truest to the description I’ve ever experienced: “These beans have medium to full body with slightly high yet balanced acidity. Making for a delicious, slightly sweet cup.” I completely concur. 

••••

Food: The Hungry Gnome Loaf Slice

Unmarked good from The Hungry Gnome - she told me that it was banana bread with Nutella and that it was pretty popular. For me, it was kind of lackluster. It was odd to me that the heavy chocolate parts weren’t fully chocolate (probably because I grew up with a mother who put mini chocolate chips in her banana bread). There are some parts with sugar grittiness, but I don’t mind that. While not something I would probably purchase again, this loaf slice saved my hide during my work shift. However, I’d recommend springing for the rugelach if you’re up for it.

Price: Small Coffee=$2.31; Nutella Banana (The Hungry Gnome)=$4.70

Hours*: Monday–Friday {7–17}; Saturday {8–14}; Sunday {CLOSED}

*On their website: Monday–Friday {7–19}; Saturday {7–15}; Sunday {CLOSED}

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Joe Coffee Company (New Rochelle)

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Luxury apartment building and an across-the-street Planet Fitness...could the only Joe Coffee outside of New York have snagged a better location? You walk in to see a sushi-roller island and green velvet chairs, joined by mirroring, custom cut to fit into ink black arched and curved rectangular recessed walls. As I began to take in the other boutique elements, the blue-tile pillar in the center rightfully caught my eye. However, it wasn’t that it was a standout feature. Rather, I could have sworn that I’d seen the exact same design somewhere else...right: Bluestone Lane - Hudson Yards. It’s flashy in theory, but this commonplace color pop doesn’t really land. One other thing: I wish the lighting was better. Double-sided pendant sconces and floating LED lights accents are present, yet in summary it amounts to a unaccomplished stylistic dimness. While the COFFEE neon on the reverse side of the pillar (it was unlit when I went in) could very well electrify, and its top lighting acts like some sort of celestial connection, the lack of intentional light ultimately frustrates. What appears to be non-geometric cuts of tissue paper, arranged and then affixed to canvas, are framed and mounted just above the wall paneling. In your efforts to find the coffee, you probably didn’t notice this art. I get it. During the entry moment, I was directionally unsound until the woman ran up from the cushioned bench in the curved rectangle recession—where she’d been sitting when I walked in—arriving quickly and with a lost look. The highlight for me was the contemporary black couch, some mishmash of a piano with no white keys or smushed together charcoal lady fingers. I didn’t sit on it, but—while simple conceptually—the key it plucked visually, as an intriguingly accent and statement onto itself, offered what I assumed the space was going for: cool comfort. 

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Drink: Lavender Earl Grey Iced Latte

This drink, while meeting the floral expectation, is oddly refreshing. It might be the ice, but I would venture it has to do with the something beyond the cold. There are a lot of different flavors. It’s tagged as the “perfect spring sip.” I’d dispute this claim, finding it more to be a perplexing fall sip. But, I think that this conclusion will inevitably come down to how you’ve experienced the seasons. If you want one of this latte’s flavors, I’d recommend going just lavender or just Earl Grey. Both together offers something that’s unharmonious and overwhelming to the tongue. I have a few suggested alterations. The first is to make it dairy. The oat—while great in its own right—can’t support all that flavor. The second suggestion is to give the drink a Earl Grey cold foam. Essentially, I’m suggesting a standard iced lavender latte with Earl Grey cold foam. They could then add lavender flower buds on top of the cold foam. They would also gain the volume back for two shots of espresso (this drink, small or large, only comes with one shot). While I did bask in the skinny straw, the fact of the matter is that the drink just doesn’t level with the price. 

•••

Price: Small Lavender Earl Grey Iced=$6.20

Hours: Monday–Friday {7–18}; Saturday–Sunday {8–17}

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L'AMI Bakery & Cafe

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How many stories start with the words “Inside an H Mart, you will find...”? This cafe joins that tome. Just past the towers of forklifted Orion turtle chips and Nongshim tempura udon and neoguri, all on sale, is this first food court opportunity. The centerfold is the case full of Asian-inspired French breads (or French-inspired Asian breads?), mammoth bread (with red bean and green bean pastes), scones of pure butter and oat-currant, and castellas. A few screens announce the drinks menu with a particular pride dedicated to their make-your-own bubble tea. What ends up making this place different is the people: the ladies behind the counter and the diversity that a place like Yonkers unexpectedly means. You can try and navigate the food court seating, or you can walk the halls of Eastern goods and familiar products with Asian languages—on some replacing the words altogether, on others stickered over with American translations. I opted for the latter journey. Pro-tip: don’t sacrifice your non-drinking hand. You’ll need it to pull closer or bring to the register some never-before-encountered product. Keep it free. After all, every story in that “Inside an H Mart, you will find” tome ends with “and I left with more than I came for.”

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Drink: Soy Black Sesame Latte

The milk mustache missed my upper lip and basically tried to play nose highlighter. If you’re wondering why people in H Mart are looking at you, this might be the reason. You’ve been warned. When I was exploring the menu, I first asked about their black glazed latte. That drink is basically a mocha with a chocolate rim. It sounded interesting, but once I see black sesame on a menu, I go temporarily blind. The barista began selling the drink to me on the foam component. “The signature foam is our response to Starbucks cold foam, but it’s way better,” she continued while I nodded the whole way. I agreed with her from the start. They were out of oat milk, so I opted for soy. She handed it to me, signature foam half-dusted with black sesame and puffing out the lip. She apologized for the cold foam’s slight volcanic activity. No need. It was delicious. All three layers of the drink pretty quickly sunk together, but I have a feeling this  situation was directly related to me opting for soy milk. The last black sesame latte I had was much richer and pronounced. However, that last black sesame latte was made with whole milk. If you want a coffee drink that is a little different with a fun texture component, this option is worth going for if you can go full dairy. Too, the black sesame isn’t overpowering, definitely present (on top, on the bottom, on the sides of the cup), but it remains at bay.

•••

Price: Black Sesame Latte (ICED ONLY)=$6.50 (Soy=$0.75)

Hours: Everyday {9–20}

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Duck Donuts (White Plains)

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There are so many promotions and deal posters plastering the window that it is impossible to see in to this strip mall spot, but once you get inside, it’s appropriately minimal given the half-wall, plank paneling colored watermelon pink wherever there is wall in the space. The pageantry of rubber ducks along the work station glass as you move back to the register is definitely the highlight. As soon as I began heading down the magnificent row of them, “Fireworks” by Katy Perry came on as if to hype up the show of pinprick and crescent eyes, green checkerboard and baseball downs, and graduation and construction caps. It’s an unexpectedly perfect touch, as if someone placed one there and then—noticing the ledge the glass is placed on is poised for rubber ducky display—added another with each basement discovery. It’s one of those spots you expect to have rushes, question its success, and yet—at 16:00 on a Wednesday—the flow of business was consistent. Sometimes it’s a mom with a stroller, other times its a long-locked beauty with an announcement: “I’ve never been here before!! So, what am I getting? Help me!” Because the donuts are made to order, a curious sequence plays out in this shop. When a person returns to the front of the store after ordering, that’s when the air begins to sweeten with the smell of frying dough once more. I’ve never been in a place that so deftly and ceremoniously connects people and sweetness. Smell that? It’s impending joy. 

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Drink: Medium Cookie Crumble Frappe

Your other frappe options (aside from plain coffee) are confetti, caramel, or mocha, and astoundingly they are all coffee too. To be exact, they add their Fitz cold brew to all of them. I’m going to be candid, I was expecting to be angry, disappointed, annoyed with myself, all of the above…but I ended up being nothing but pleased. A bit on the sweet side, no doubt about it, but they have their proportions right. It’s an Oreo frappe palatably fused with coffee, and I found it to be one of the tastier fusions I’ve ever come across. The confetti (birthday cake flavor) still intrigues me, but the cookie crumble frappe won’t disappoint if you want dessert for coffee, coffee for dessert...I think you get it. 

•••

Price: Medium Cookie Crumble Frappe=$3.25*

*This price was not what I was charged, however. So, the June special was all frappes for $4.25. I decided to go for it. She rang me up the regular price and then corrected to $3.25. I assume this price was for the medium, and the special was priced at the large. Yet, when I looked at the receipt, she charged me for frappe Friday. It was Wednesday...I’m not sure, but the conclusion is this: the month of June on Wednesdays, you can get a frappe for $4.25 or less. 

Hours: Monday {11–18}; Tuesday–Wednesday {7:30–19}; Thursday–Friday {7:30–20}; Saturday {8–20}; Sunday {8–18}

UPDATE 6.2.23: I had to go back to get a free cinnamon sugar donut for National Donut Day. It is warm and fresh, melts in your mouth, exploits that perfect peak of the curve where dough becomes pastry…they definitely do nut disappoint 😉

Zaro’s (EWR)

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The soundtrack is tight in this bright enough (but not too bright) airport food court, where you’ll find Zaro’s managing the Newark morning traffic alongside Tonny + Benny’s and Starbucks. I was sure of this statement even before “Pocketful of Sunshine” by Natasha Bedingfield and “What is Love...” by Haddaway came on, with Ne-Yo and Jamiroquai taking the lead. At any of the three bar counters, you’ll find ample outlets—USB and three-pronged sockets. The counter stools are curious creatures, black vinyl pierced with a boho bullseye pattern centered on the sitting side of a sculpted seat and back, painted lime on the reverse. But, you probably won’t sit, just admire the gold of puffed pastry, French toast Monte Cristos, and lamps that resemble Lampy from The Brave Little Toaster—three jutting on the left side of three strips of TV screens and three on the right. “It smells so good,” breathed a woman who got in line behind me. Oh, she caught it, what this cafe has sought to bring to the B-Terminal table. With a commercial refrigerator and Baxter oven setting up the background and gapping glass panes separating customer from pastry-covered cookie sheets—but not from their blessed aromas—this dining option is the blow of the bakery bellows.

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Drink: Coffee

When the woman handed the cup to me, it smelled really good, which got me so psyched. Then, I took a sip. It’s a story, ladies and gentleman, of the classic cafe tragedy. It was too hot and had that automated machine quality. In other words, it wasn’t dark; it was burnt. God, my immediate thought was how much I won’t be sad when I have to dump this drink at security. That’s bad. As it cooled, it did begin to grow on me. But, it fundamentally amounts to a burnt cup, and it isn’t worth the time.

••

Price: House Blend Coffee=$3.35

Hours: Everyday {5–22}

Extra Notes:

While I didn’t grab food, their omelet melt did intrigue me. It looks like a nice offering.  

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Gregory’s (Summit)

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Leave it to the masters of understated cool to create a space that incorporates all the nostalgic cafe elements, exoticism of the new age indoor plant craze, and the chillest baristas (likewise kudos to the clientele which were studious, kind, and relaxed—the kind of folks they attract). “Want me to turn it back on,” the young guy asked, briefly stopping his mopping. “Turn what on,” I asked back as he walked towards the perfectly punny “SEES THE DAY” wall art in the corner. “It turns on,” I was continuing to ask as the art illuminated. Pair this upgraded light box with the Alizarin crimson Eversys machine crowning the counter, and it all screams comfortable flare. Those black tiles, that oscillate glossy and matte along the counter wall, the plant island, and a girthy support pillar, add a texturing that almost threads the scene of dripping green and woven orb lampshades guarding pendant bulbs. No roots are forgotten here: the tiles on the floor are hexagonal, arranged into hexagons and their echoes, an undoubted echo of Gregory Zamfotis’s childhood spent in the New York City food business. Finally, with the touch of Summit adhered to the one-of-a-kind espresso machine’s back, not only are the roots remembered, they’re stemming. 

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Drink: Proffee

It is listed as “cold brew topped with vanilla protein milk foam (13g protein),” and it is a very confusing ask. Because it’s a milk foam, the question of what kind of milk still comes up. I went for oat. Then, there was the discovery that they were out of cold brew. The barista scrambled—really bless her, it wasn’t anything to get worked up over—and finally I suggested that she make it with the flash brew (“Zanzibar - Notes of red grape, plum + fig”). When she realized this would work, you could see the relief. So, what I got was proffee and the flash brew’s kin. She whipped up the milk foam in front of me with a frother in a measuring pitcher, and it was out in minutes. It definitely amounted to an entire experience. If you’re looking for a coffee you can’t get anywhere else, you’ve found the belle of the ball. If you’re looking to add protein to your coffee, you can get it here without any noticeable taste change. Just considering my variation, this drink is a familiar one with a complex outfitting, and its customization might be its greatest strength.

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Price: Total=$7.90 (12 oz. Proffee=$6.95 + Oat=$0.95)

Hours: Everyday {6:30–18}

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Longfellow’s Coffee (Kinnelon)

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Get ready to spin. Finding your way up to this drive-thru window is not easy. It’s essentially the size of a parking space in the parking lot of a law office and Cartridge World. If you do figure it out on your first go, you should pat yourself on the back. Once you pull around, do a U-turn, back up and loop to the other side, you will probably find yourself in a line. It’s one window; it’s to be expected. By the time I got to the point of ordering, my head was still spinning (and not because of the Fast and Furious finesse it took to get in). The menu is a titan, and I was at the window, internally dueling between the Peach Cobbler Latte seasonal, the latte with their homemade toasted marshmallow syrup (the baristas recommendation), an oat cappuccino with their bourbon syrup, an espresso beverage with a CBD shot, or a Chagaccino. Along with the aforementioned recommendation, the barista with the blonding coral hair walked me through it. This soul, epic septum piercing and all, was kind and patient, passionately going over the many options with me and laughing when I asked to take a photo of the head of the takeaway window. On this ledge was a row of mini figurines—painted skull, fox unicorn, mushroom, shrunken dragon—right along with the OPEN neon. They laughed because they appreciated me asking. “A blogger came by once and just had her camera in my face. She didn’t even ask, just had her camera out the whole time.” “The entire time,” I asked incredulously. “Yeah,” they laughed. I’m not above the hustle, and I’m just glad this person wasn’t offended. I heard laughter from inside the small, white coffeehouse and realized there were about one to two other people in there. The Longfellow’s coffeehouse is full of kind spirits. Good thing too given that, as soon as I was handed my drink, the car behind me honked as though I was supposed to take off like an airplane. At least let me get the drink into my cup holder...as it always is driving in any circumstance, it’s the other drivers that you have to worry about. But, something about the spirit (something about the coffee?) prompts the sanity-saving thought as the tires start to roll: let them honk.

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Drink: Small Hot Coconut Milk Chagaccino

It’s a lot of things. I don’t normally do hot coconut milk, but—when I found out plant milks didn’t cost extra, my whole order changed. I should have opted for oat at that point, but it’s a drive-through, and you see the car behind you, and you just, well, panic. I adore that they have the espresso shots per size bracketed on the left of the espresso beverages. What a helpful addition. So, the small Chagaccino came with 2 shots, and—going back to how this write-up started—it is the taste equivalent of debris from an explosion: it lands everywhere. I had a long day ahead of me, and I knew that my body would be very appreciative of the chaga. What’s chaga? Chaga is a kind of mushroom with adaptogenic effects that regulates the immune system. Did I know that going in? Yes, yes I did. I’ve done a lot of research on adaptogens and have wanted to try the chagaccino for (almost to the day) 2 years. I’m glad I got the coconut milk on second thought, given how much the chaga powder thickened up the drink. I think that it may have approached the consistency of a BOOST if I’d gone with the oat milk. I think that I’d get it iced in the future because it really does end up being heavier than expected. The coffee, coconut milk, and chaga are together a singular beverage, but no unique flavor develops when these ingredients are mixed. It’s all three ingredients the entire time, and there’s nothing wrong with that. There’s no earthy or artificial flavor to get over; and it’s not at all hard to love. That’s my assessment. They also put this globular, strawberry red Stix To Go beverage plug in the sip hole to keep it from spilling and—not only is this much appreciated—it offers a cool touch.

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Price: Small Hot Coconut Milk Chagaccino=$7.40

Hours: Everyday {6–19}

Extra Notes:

Fun note: if you go to their website, they have Current Flavored Syrups lists for both locations, so you can check before you even hop in your car to see whether the syrup you want is available!

Cafe Serendipity

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Driving up, I was convinced that I’d made a terrible mistake. In a strip mall with three other businesses, the facade was defined by a digital board displaying several lotto jackpots and a modest, horizontal banner displaying the name in a mixture of Gothic and Burgues along with the phone number, Eat-In, Take-Out and a DELI that snuck it’s way in at a diagonal. My expectations plummeted. Then, leaving the sun-reflecting sidewalk, I entered a cool, two-salon expanse. Ahead was a counter—a convenience store type—to the left some self-serve coffee and a boutique, primarily of necklaces displayed on velvet busts and earrings angled upright and fastened to camel-colored cardboard pieces. While a drink may not interest you, the display cooler is worth a second look. The top paneling is faux, stained glass—striated dusk blue and accented with coppery petals and pistils. It could have just as easily said Coca-Cola or Cold Drinks. This replacement is intentional; I’m sure of it—the efforts of a first time homemaker, with no design experience, trying with heart to create a beautiful space. Oh, it’s even more apparent in the second salon where the seating lives. A fireplace with Nutcrackers on the shelf and rocking chairs (that appear to have been shaped from a tree’s likeness) and coffee inspirational art gone meta with four sets of four frames within frames occupy the outskirts of the space along with a surprising number of yellow flowers, artificial sunflowers and orchids—the latter of which stem out of a huge terracotta painted hydria. After a bit of personal deciphering, the mason jars on each table, paired with clear stands, were perfectly elegant candle lamps. And, the pulleys, hanging on the room’s dividing wall and unexplainably laying on the counter next to the ice cream cups, I’m sure will never make an ounce of sense. For when “Movie Theater Size Boxes of Candy” for $2.99 sneaks into the bottom line of the laminated ice cream menu, it needn’t. I think of every contraband Milk Dud, M&M, Snowcap, and Skittle I ever ate in a movie theater, and the thought is the cafemaker’s final design that inexpertly yet dotingly situates.

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Drink: Small Coffee

Cup of absolutely no frills goodness—you won’t spit it out, and you won’t regret it. If you’re looking for something more complex, this coffee is not right for you. If you are looking for a lifeline—and an ice cream, breakfast sandwich, or a plastic-wrapped snack to enliven further—then the solo brew on a Bunn-O-Matic and the two milks in the adjacent mini fridge will do right by you.

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Price: Small Coffee=$1.50

Hours: Monday–Friday {6–15}; Saturday {6–14}; Sunday {CLOSED}

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The Bakery

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You circle and circle, all in vain, in search of a parking space. You’re beginning to give up. We’ve all been here. The Bakery is the story of a place that makes it all worth it. The sign out front has some water stains, and it’s visually pushed behind the Bicycle Rack sign hanging in sun-bright yellow beneath it. Past an angled city map and flyer information box, through a little courtyard defined by an Inversa Norway Spruce, you come to a red brick building with evergreen accents and a roof with a pitch of 10. The real excitement comes when you walk in to view of a second floor through latitudinal ceiling beams and the track “Old Blue Jeans” by Hannah Montana catches your ear. A calm bucha tap is a surprising quirk opposing the pastry case filled with traditional croissants and cookies, the less common linzer tarts and rugelach, and finally the seasonal selection of vegan raspberry scone, maple cheddar muffin, and peach raspberry galette. This tall display also doubles as the ordering counter, some green (VEGETARIAN), yellow (SANDWICHES), orange (BREAKFAST SANDWICHES), and pink (BAGELS, BIALYS & ROLLS) menus hanging back and listing a solid set of food offerings. There were no prices on the menu, so I had to ask that while I worked out my decision. However, once I got past my internal and external debates, I was free to admire the chalk marker that picked up where the suspended menus left off—Spring Drinks, MUFFINS, Syrups, and ON AUX - Lilly. That’s right. Next to the pre-packaged, sprinkle-adorned graduation cookies was a sign announcing who was to blame or credit for the tunes. Oh, step aside Employee of the Month, I only want my name in chalk-marker, audiocratic (made this word up—audio+autocratic) glory. Lily’s choice was 2000s Disney music with Sharpay taking the lead (as she does) in many songs, and in others the baristas on duty would join in giving her a run for her money (that she would shut down immediately if she heard). “Strut Like You Mean It” by the Cheetah Girls had me tearing up a little while I ate my food in the upstairs area that offered just enough privacy and plenty of aquamarine vinyl. You can eat inside among hung Rachel Hunderfund oil-on-canvases of forests, skies, and brush while not needing to worry about how you eat (anyone else always get gross fingers and food all over their face? Nope, just me?). However, with the even higher roof beams and railing with a view of the entrance below, all the goings-on of the cafe still travel to you. This spot is the rare fusion of separation, the jumping in the cafe waters and coming up for air. It has the diversified spacing you want and the employees you need. The barista—when I told her about my blog—even recommended another spot down the road. And that’s how you do it, my friends: community support, a last glance at the mounted Nick Driano illustration to the right of the exit, and a push of the door with your non-drink-holding hand into a New Paltz day (and a Mario Kart Rocket Start to check that the parking meter hasn’t run out). 

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Drink: Iced Oat Milk Latte with Honey and Lavender

This drink was the barista’s recommendation. The remark that made this possible when I ordered food: “We have the best coffee in town. I like my coffee...” This woman brought the talk. Time for a friendly test. Apparently, this drink is her coffee ritual. It reminded me of a Gregory’s Honey Badger (cold brew, almond milk, honey), which might make sense to some, but it confused me a little. I think the sweetening by the honey pulls back the lavender and espresso flavors a bit more than I tend to prefer. Nevertheless, it’s a fun one with the appearance of sealed sous vide flan.

•••

Food: Vegetarian Reuben on Rye

I was curious about the PURPLE PEOPLE EATER, and my decision-making process led me to finding out that any of the sandwiches could be on any bread. I would definitely get the challah for that one. But, for a Reuben, I had to stay true to the rye bread equation. The rest of the sandwich was made up of soy ham, sauerkraut, Swiss, and 1000 island dressing. It was a lot smaller than I was expecting (but I’ll accept that Reubens are normally just obscenely large), and, while the soy ham gets air time, it’s really a sauerkraut grilled cheese with a little soy ham. It still tasted fine given that I didn’t have any real expectation. With nothing against the rye and the gasconades around the space about their challah—even their napkin dispenser opted for the message, “Come back on Friday for the best challah in town!”—I’d love to go back and test this challah claim (I’m picky when it comes to my challah) paired with PURPLE PEOPLE EATER goodness. 

Broccoli Salad

I asked about what this was exactly; it had that kind of “it’s not exactly what you’re expecting” look to it. The woman who took my order told me that it was broccolli with cranberries in a mayo type sauce. It also has pine nuts inside, so don’t be surprised. She’s right—it isn’t mayonnaise. However, to say that it is a mayonnaise-style sauce might not be correct either. It has a ranch consistency and a kind of sour cream sourness. It was different, so I enjoyed it with the sandwich, but it’s definitely something to eat in small quantities—think whether you would eat a side of mayo-like sauce, and you’ll easily understand the reasoning.  

Price: Vegetarian Reuben=$10.95; For the scoop of broccoli crunch salad (Cookie open price)=$5; Small Iced Oat Latte (with honey and lavender syrup)=$4.95*

*No upcharge for oat or almond milk!!

Hours: Everyday {8–18}

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Aroma Joe’s (Tilton)

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Keep driving, whether down Central Street from Franklin or Main Street from Tilton, and from either direction you will pull off into a wide-open view, a drive-through set into a background of Pac-Yan cargo containers. The actual structure you pull up to is neither a hut nor a house, but a shingled outpost with some sapphire trim and ordering windows on both sides. I got a little confused going around, but I eventually found my way to the front, settling first on the four lit-up panels. Soon realizing that no amount of staring would lead me to a faster order, I pulled up to the window where a friendly young woman received my many questions about milks, flavors, and the like. “We have like everything,” she answered positively; she then offered me a list. There’s a lot in all ways, even four drink sizes, a metal shelf at the ordering window displaying as them as plastic cups filled with brown glass globs. In the end, it welcomes your brief shift into Park with OPEN neon and flower power stained-glass paint. I’d advise to come prepared with the flavor you’re feeling, because “everything” can be daunting. Besides, play it up: you’re literally in the driver’s seat.

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Drink: Small S’mores Fantasy with Oat Milk Fro-Joe

You know, I like the recommendation. Is it sweet? Very. Does it have character? Pumps worth. Does it taste like a s’more? More like a fantasy, but is there anything really wrong with that?

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Price: S’mores Fantasy with Oat Fro-Joe=$5.80

Hours: Monday–Saturday {5:15–21}; Sunday {5:45–20}

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Circuit Coffee

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Found a solo table and fell in love. Well, that’s not quite the whole story. The whole story includes looking up while in line behind a serious—my conclusion based on how outfitted they were—cycling couple and seeing the dragonflies on the ceiling. It transported me back to when I noted several times a day that the American decorative arts were highly influenced by Asian motifs—of bamboo, dragonflies, and bats—in the late nineteenth century. You don’t expect to see them, painted medallion reliefs there above you. But there they are, three large panels of this ornateness delineating the space, bordered by gold-painted, multi-tiered crown molding. The way the cafe spills down into more seating at the front recalls a bathhouse, the enormous glass panes with Prairie-style supports and defunct doors add to this effect, capturing every ounce of the outside that it could without letting any of it directly in. Instead, a fiddle leaf fig graces this front area and hanging plants flank the ramp that leads you to the sun-soaked parlor. Some blue-and-white porcelain here, a retro flip-down clock there, and it’s a cafe of down-to-earth resplendence that glints and galvanizes in all the right places. 

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Drink: Cortado

Not sure if I should say that I smelled it or that it commanded my nose’s attention. Who’s to say? The first sip, contrary to the aroma, was fruity. It caught me off guard. The fruitiness was also tamed quickly by something. I had to know. A brief interaction with the barista revealed that they use their Three Phase Espresso Blend for their espresso drinks. The notes? Strawberry jam, almond nougat, and cocoa. The strawberry jam is the lead in the beginning, however it reclines a little with each sip. Still, it’s there—an ever-present plumpness. The cocoa and the almond nougat don’t puncture quite the same, but I suspect that they are holding the fruity flavor reins. Rightly so. These notes can overwhelm if not carefully balanced. It’s interesting: online it says that Three Phase is composed of naturally-processed Columbian and washed South American beans, while the bag in the store said that the Three Phase is composed of 40% Ethiopian and 60% Peruvian, washed/natural. These are two very different origins, and I’d just add the caveat that your espresso experience could vary from mine. The drink is spectacularly constructed either way, but my take might be off given componential seasonality and availability. Two more things I would like to add. One, the only question they asked me while ordering: “Whole milk?” Oh, I love it when everything is how it should be. You’re in good hands. Two, they specify ounceage and ounceage when ice is added on their menu. If you had any doubts about their seriousness, noting this feature should Avada Kedavra that doubt almost immediately.

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Price: Cortado=$4

Hours: Monday-Saturday {6:30–16}; Sunday {CLOSED}

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