I always enjoy reading the sandwich board outside of my local coffee house in New York's West Village. It's usually scrawled not with the day's offerings but some witty phrase or dictum. On a recent evening, walking to the subway to meet friends for dinner, it really caught my attention: the lyrics to a favorite song of mine. Anyone recognize it?
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A Cute Cup of Joe
On a corner of New York’s Waverly Place sits a small square of a coffee shop. At first it appears to be your typical ‘trendy’ location: an exposed brick wall, hardwood floors, a chalkboard menu of cappuccinos and cold brews behind the counter.
But it’s more than that. This is Joe Coffee, the original neighbourhood outpost of a chain that now spans ten stores and two cities. The ‘joe’ here tastes terrific, and arrives like liquid artwork, the foam on top spiralled into a caffeine-fuelled heart. Then there are the giant glass jars jammed with cookies of all colours up at the front; it’s a tough choice, but the chocolate truffle takes the top prize.
Joe is a relaxed West Village spot, where the baristas are friendly and the patrons range from tourists talking in tongues to locals taking their time over the newspaper at a sturdy wooden table. You can enjoy the airy atmosphere inside, or settle down in the sun on one of the outdoor benches. In short, Joe is the place to watch the New York world go by with a perfect cup of coffee by your side.