An unexpected turn of events has land me to venture beyond the world of coffee into restaurants. While I am not yet a "foodie", my fascination with good food and quality dining experience was piqued at work. More specifically, the paralegal who I replaced at work was a foodie. While I am sure he gave me much greater words of wisdom, his most lasting words on my memory were "One Hogan Place is a fantastic location relative to restaurants. I was really excited when I learned where I was working a year ago, and hope you make the most of the affordable prices and proximity to ethnic food."
A couple of Saturdays ago, JULY 16TH to be exact, signified my first step in exploring the city. I finally had the time, and more importantly the energy to go out and search for coffee and food. After downloading the NYTimes app. for the iPhone called "The Scoop" that, among other things, gives reviews for bars, restaurants, and coffee shops.
One shop, Joe (Grand Central Terminal at 89 East 42nd Street in Murray Hill) caught my eye. I was coming back from the flea market at Hell's Kitchen and need to stop at Grand Central Station anyway in order to transfer to the downtown six line in order to get back to my apartment and deposit my treasure of an oil painting somewhere resembling a place of proud display (that place later turned out to be on top of my AC unit leaning against the window and seriously interfering with my pointless window shutters that fail to keep sunlight out after 5:30am).
Considering the hot temperatures, I decided that an iced coffee was exactly what I needed to satisfy my parched throat from wandering the streets. Finding the store was a challenge in and of itself. Since I had been to Grand Central before, I arrogantly assumed that Joe must be downstairs with all the other dining. In a half-delirious state inflicted by an approaching heat stroke combined with caffeine deprivation, I wandered around uncomprehending why my store could not be found. It must have been obvious that I was lost since a rather rough-looking, elderly man with a voice that testified to his heavy smoking habit (so heavy in fact that I couldn't make a single word our two minute conversation apart from "upstairs", and onlookers actually shepherded their children towards the more populous area of the dining concourse) approached me to set me in, what he thought to be the right direction. Not surprisingly, I ended up wandering around for another 20 minutes since I seriously misunderstood the crazy man's guttural language and sign language. By the grace of God I somehow stumbled upon Joe. Unknown to me, however, Joe only accepts cash (strange in such a fast-paced city) so was forced to make a quick detour downstairs to an ATM. The wait was worth it since the Costa Rican blend hit just the right notes of floral and spice to make it a perfect summer light roast. Definitely a repeat the next time I get stranded waiting for a train or subway!
This past SATURDAY (JULY 24TH) I stayed closer to home on my coffee adventures. Lucid Cafe (311 Lexington Avenue) was only a couple of blocks from my current apartment (given the unbearable heat I don't think I could've walked much further). Oliver Strand gave the following review "A Murray Hill storefront with two tables, a handful of chairs, Counter Culture Coffee, espresso drinks and a Japanese slow dripper. Friendly and unassuming, a neighborhood spot that does all the little things right." What he really meant by "friendly and unassuming" is that there is just enough room for five people (two oriental baristas who struggle to understand the fast-talking New Yorkers placing their orders, and three customers) to squeeze between the two tables and coffee counter. I wasn't feeling a particularly bold blend on the hot afternoon (the house roast) so instead reverted to my safety (an iced skim vanilla latte). No complaints here. Again it's a standard drink, but was incredibly refreshing as I walked back to my apartment. One of my favorite parts of the cafe was that there are no phones to take orders, which offers a nice break from the street and other stores. Sadly, I'm not sure if it's worth a repeat visit.
SUNDAY: AUGUST 7, 2011. My roommate was telling me about Doma (17 Perry Street), namely that it was a quintessential "Boho" West Village restaurant perfect for meeting friends, or just getting away to enjoy a book. I later discovered that a large reason for this is because computers are not allowed on the weekends or after 5pm on the week days, which helps to keep the noise for reaching an unbearable level of screaming. More importantly it was literally the best latte I have had in my life. No extra flavoring needed. Just a hand-ground espresso combined with skim milk yield pure magic that has yet to be perfected every where else. Who knew such a popular drink could actually be perfected?
Last SATURDAY, AUGUST 6, 2011 a couple of friends and I checked out Dos Caminos (http://www.doscaminos.com/) at 373 Park Avenue South. My roommate told me that, despite the fact that it was a Mexican restaurant, the sangria was delicious (as it turns out my glass of white Sangria-mango, orange, and nectarine-did not disappoint). The guacamole was tasty enough to be a meal in and of itself with the freshly baked nachos. After the guacamole, I still had room to down my vegetable tacos (market vegetables, maggi chimmichurri, shredded romaine, and queso fresco). Overall I will definitely have to revisit to taste the other dishes.
