Okay, now that we've started off this blog with a brutally honest review to show that we really mean business, maybe it's time to explain our current gold standard of coffee: Joe.
Located at 141 Waverly; 9 E. 13th; 405 W. 23rd; 44 Grand Central Terminal; and 514 Columbus. The one we tend to haunt is on 13th street, a little hole-in-the-wall which can be difficult to find, especially in the sleepy haze we are usually in when hunting down coffee. But once you find the friendly little logo (placed here for your convenience) you know that salvation is only a few steps away. Enter Joe and you find yourself surrounded (almost literally, because the venue is pretty tiny) by friendly and shockingly courteous people-- both the baristas and the customers.
Actually, this goodness and politeness isn't so surprising, even among New Yorkers, because everybody in Joe is so damn happy. There is a very simple reason for this joy: the coffee at Joe is guaranteed to make your day.
Every time I REALLY need it, every time I know I can't risk my drink getting fucked up, because it's raining and I missed a class and I haven't eaten yet and somebody yelled at me for tripping on the sidewalk and my umbrella broke in the wind... I limp over to Joe, a sprained soul making a pilgrimage to the one place I know I will be taken care of.
The first sip erases all your problems. Your body thrills to the pure, light beauty that is entering it. It is like somebody is playing Vivaldi in your mouth. Just that first sip would be enough to get you singing and dancing like Joseph Gordon-Levitt in 500 Days of Summer, but you never, never want it to end.
Granted, I usually get a latte here because they are kickass. Katy is going to have to tell you guys about their drip coffee. But I have ultimate faith in Joe. In fact, my devotion to and support of this coffee shop is only comparable to my love of Barack Obama. (Sorry, Palin fans who are reading this. Go take a reality check.)
So all in all, in this endeavor we're taking on, every place will ultimately be compared to Joe, the coffee that I wish could be inside me every second of every day. Will we find something better? Part of me hopes so. But most of me believes that is impossible. Nevertheless, we'll keep on hunting. But in the meantime, when you really need a pick-me-up, skip the sketchy dealers in the square and shell over a couple of bucks for a cup of joe.
5.1/5 cups of lifesaving nectar
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