In my undergrad days, The Haymarket was my regular coffee shop spot. The coffee wasn't great, but it was cheap and the vegan anarchist baristas didn't care if you sat all day, ordering just one cup. It's been ages since I sat in a coffee shop for more than 1/2 an hour, but yesterday I couldn't face another day in the library with my math review materials. Grad school hasn't even started yet, and Columbia's already drowning me in linear functions. So I packed up and headed downtown to Joe The Art of Coffee, a place I'd noted after reading The Amateur Gourmet's plaudits. My taste in coffee has improved over the past six years, and...
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For the past two or more weeks, I’ve been going in and out of a few bakeries and coffeehouses just because I love them…and the fact that I’m waiting for my Restaurant Week lunch reservations to kick in sooner.
I went to my first (coffee) love Joe (the one in Union Square), since it’s been ages [...]
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Everything Eaten before the Kyotofu Dinner…and other stuff
I know I should have posted everything I’ve eaten on Thursday in one LONG post but I wasn’t motivated since I had to write journals for one of my classes that ended up to be twenty pages long. My brain dried up of any use of any prose, hence my lack of writing for that [...]
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I'm thinking I'm possibly one of the minuscule number of food bloggers in New York City who ate at Momofuku Ssäm for the first time. I know, I'm a sad case. Anyways, it's always cool to have two friends to eat out with: Julie and Robyn. But before I get to that, earlier in the morning I went to Whole Foods in Union Square for a mid-morning breakfast.
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Sunday afternoon. A dragging Blognut steps into Joe for an iced coffee and an Amy Sedaris cupcake. While the actress/comedian regularly peddles her famous cakes at Joe, there is no telling when she'll actually bring some by – "None today," says the girl behind the counter. She operates on her own baking schedule. But atop the counter we notice something far more desirable than any celebrity-made edible – a plate of Mark Israel's unmistakable yeast doughnuts.
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The answer should have been no. Or, more forcefully, NO ROBYN JUST RUN, RUNNN FAR AWAY FROM THE FOOD, OR BABY BUNNIES WILL SOMEHOW SUFFER AT THE HANDS OF YOUR GLUTTONY, EVEN THOUGH THAT DOESN'T MAKE ANY SENSE. I'm not hungry in the morning and eating when I'm not hungry just ruins any possible hunger that may come later in the day when my stomach is 1) in a churning mood and 2) I'm less comatose. (Actually, I wake up in the morning pretty easily. I just happen to walk around in a zombie-like state.)
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After a good cup o’ joe at Gorilla Coffee in Brooklyn last week, I’ve been in something of a coffee mood. Nosher and I had been meaning to visit Joe in the Village for some time, and we finally got there over the weekend after a trip to Chinatown and a haircut at Astor Place Hair (fans of Felicity will remember that this is the place where she got her controversial short haircut). Joe looks like the quintessential coffeeshop: an adorable storefront, strollers and dogs parked outside next to inviting benches, an interior with a self-referential mural of a Vienna coffeehouse, modern seating for 20-or-so customers, and a counter lined with cupcakes and pastries. And most attractive to a newspaper fiend like me, The Times is laid out for reading– if, that is, you don’t get distracted staring out the big windows onto Waverly Place, a fantastic perch for people watching. (There’s also another branch of Joe on East 13th Street, but we haven’t been there yet…).
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