Coffee Spotlight: Irving Farm

Irving Farm

88 Orchard Street NY,NY 10002

4/5

Recommendation: Macchiato (traditional mind you, those tiny little cups of magic that are made up of a double shot and the smallest amount of steamed milk) and a raspberry doughnut.

I like to think that I know a thing or two about coffee. It was the first industry that I went into when I started working, and I never left until I moved into the city for culinary school. So, when I moved the first order of business was finding a local coffee shop that cranked out awesome drinks and would also hopefully serve as a good hangout spot and home away from my dorm. While Irving Farm on Orchard may not be a super chill spot to settle in with a book (though the downstairs seating can offer some respite from the crowds) they reliably serve up some of the best espresso I’ve had in the LES. Coming from a cafe that roasted in-house, I love that the shop uses all Irving Farm Roasters coffee, and what good coffee it is.
While I do almost always tends towards espresso as my daily drink, I brew Irving Farm coffee at home and can attest to the quality of their beans for a pour over or cup of drip. (Right now I’m brewing their organic Honduras Capucas, a washed coffee that has notes of pineapple, brown sugar, tobacco, dried cherry and vanilla.) Not only does Irving Farm have excellent espresso (I urge you to get a simple double shot, a macchiato or cortado), they also have some super tasty sweet treats as well as a breakfast and lunch menu. I’ve never had any of their hot food, but I am a total sucker for their raspberry jelly doughnuts, which go perfectly with a double shot and a glass of sparkling water. On a hot day, their iced americanos knock it out of the park but if you’re not feeling coffee they make some seriously delicious lemonade in house.
Not in the LES? Fret not, Irving Farm also has locations in Gramercy, the Upper West Side, and Grand Central.

Restaurant Review: YN

YN

227 Mott St, NY, NY, 10012

3.5/5

Recommendation: Make a beeline for the formaggi and salumi, they usually run a deal that gets you 5 choices for around $35. For the amount of delicious meat and cheese and toasty bread they serve up, it’s a total deal. Go ahead and order a glass of prosecco too, you know you want to.

YN was the first restaurant I stepped foot in after moving to the city and I fell madly in love at first sight (and bite). Part wine bar, part excellent Italian restaurant, this tiny, primarily bar-seating restaurant serves wines, small and large plates that pay homage to different Italian regions and traditions. The space is almost excessively quaint, with bottles and jars of Italian alimentary products sitting next to copper pans on the shelves that line the brick walls. But thanks to its quality products and charming staff, YN manages to dodge the bougie vibe that permeates a large part of Mott Street these days.
The first time I ate at YN, my brother and I were happy hour-hopping through Nolita and arrived at the restaurant around 5 p.m. The happy hour specials here are excellent; from 4-7 p.m. all crostini and cheeses are $5, and select glasses of wine from their carefully curated list are $7. After realizing that we were the only people and that it appeared as if there was just one girl working behind the bar, we decided to try a couple of the aforementioned crostini and were pleasantly surprised with both the product and the service. (It has continued to be my experience that there are never more than two folks working and they do it all: take orders, pour drinks, and prepare food behind the counter). After ordering three crostini: chevre, anchovies, and pecan, we ordered a couple of glasses of barolo and chatted with the waitress while she prepped our order. 

The crostini were amazing, served on thick slices of good bread that was toasted and drizzled generously with olive oil (and they’re happy to keep the bread coming) and not overpowering or fussy in their presentation or taste. Since that meal, I’ve been back for brunch and dinner, and have had nothing but good experiences. I will say that breakfast/brunch tends to be a little more “american” and heavy duty as well as perhaps not being as good of a deal, but it’s delicious all the same.

If you find yourself in Nolita (or really within 20 minutes of this place) I highly recommend stopping in, even if it’s just for a coffee or some bread and cheese. YN manages to at once be a neighborhood cafe and a reliable source for delicious small plates, all reasonably priced and housed in a space that will make you dream of Instagram fame.

On Traveling Alone in Your 20's

The lug of 5 am motion is familiar to you. Ever since childhood we have been moving, if only begrudgingly, toward distant relative reunions and budget hotels. We are the generation of push and pull, sight seeing and sore eyes. I’m 20, and ever since I can remember, the only promise that’ll wake me up at hazy hours of the night is one of travel. At 4 years of age, Id take my mothers hand and get swept up in a big airplane, rubbing my morning tears to arrive quickly somewhere new. this is what I called the closest thing to magic. Now is no different, except the closest human comfort is an MBA candidate at university of Iowa gawking into his cellular device to who I picture is his tipsy mother, a proud Indian lady with a smidgen too much bottom eyeliner on. But the comfort is there, in the shared experience of our crappy driver, a giggly unapologetic black lady, or the sights outside of the majestic Greyhound windows, including picturesque projects and mysterious altercations.

There’s comfort in the fleeting quality of our simple interactions. Nothing is forced nor expected, it just kind of happens.

Earlier this year, I traveled to Mexico for the first time. All alone. Being an experienced traveler from my elementary days, my mother always taught me to look peeved, bothered, even, to detract people from approaching me. I wore sunglasses until the plane took off, and kept my sentences short and my hand on my cell phone. A tad too bothered, yes, but I aways connected it to being a woman, lacking the privilege of openness to interaction by birthright. It’s sad now that I was programmed to detract, condense, and look at every man as predator. But there are reasons.

I tried, coming back home, to do the opposite. Enjoy conversation in lines and with the workers, peppy younger guys with so much pride in wearing their periwinkle uniforms. I met Hugo at the door to the Cancun Airport, a Mexican college student my age. He greeted me with a hug and asked me why I would want to live his great country, which was honestly so nice to hear. Someone genuinely proud of their land. And Mexico, a country painted by stereotype as USA’s annoying foster child, cleaning up its mess and taking in their people. But no, Hugo had the decision to move to USA to study and he wanted to stay close to family, enjoy his culture.

When you travel alone at 20, you can use your curiosity maturely. You can revert gender standards and introduce yourself. You can do it. Although there are tragedies where the girls were coined “too friendly” or “open,” there’s a way you can be quite friendly and intelligent with your interactions.

Shhh...

I’ve learned that you can only learn when you listen. And really listen. I heard my third partner of my 20 hour travel lightly sing a Spanish prayer or lullaby under her breath, and it was beautiful. I heard Arabic spouting from a lovely little conversation behind me, and i heard snoring that reminded me to call my grandmother and say goodnight.

When you travel alone at 20, you can use the endearing quiet to listen to your own thoughts for once. You’re neither here nor there, so you don’t have anyone asking you to do anything or any demands to be listened to. You have yourself, at last. Take this time to write lists, practice breathing, think about the people in your life.

The moment of travel is perhaps one of the first things I’ve ever claimed as my own. A few hours in the air or a few high way signs down the road can be just what you needed to reset, reevaluate and listen. Take yourself out tonight, or this weekend, for a little getaway with you and the rest of the world. I think you should.