Brooklyn is a state of mind and hipster culture is international. Walking in here is like walking into a boutique in NYC. Or maybe not, maybe it's now like walking into a boutique anywhere in the hip world. Tupac and other hip-hop (scrupulously selected to be credible?) plays, and the place is full of expensive watches and leather phone cases, and bags that look somehow both rugged and fussy, and very clunky glasses destined for very beautiful faces, and also cute postcards and papercraft and sundry knickknackery. All these things are expertly curated for maximum hipness, and arranged as if ready to be photographed for Kinfolk or Cereal or Monocle magazines. Even the staff seemed curated. It was a little too much hipness for me, but...
In the back there's a coffee shop! And all the overwhelming hipness I could barely tolerate up front, I adored when applied to coffee making. I ordered a pourover. The barista sifted out a single serving of beans and offered them for me to smell, then ground them and offered the same again. They ended up making a swell cup of flavorful, slightly sour coffee, and this cup took a good and serious five minutes to prepare, which probably doesn't matter but which I nevertheless enjoyed--the five minutes of watching and waiting, I mean.
Aside from coffee, they offer a smoke-infused homemade vanilla ice cream affogato and ice cream sandwich, which I very sadly didn't try. They offer a few teas, and a Thai Ice Tea that tasted great but, note, is not fresh, it is bottled.
The coffee shop has five or six seats at a counter, a few more on a bench, and then an outdoor patio that could fit 5 to 10. The patio faces a courtyard with a banyan tree and a swing set and a small street beyond. It was swell. read more