Wonderful Brunch at The Toucan & the Lion

"I am perfect and I love you."

Last Saturday, I had brunch at The Toucan & the Lion. The food was adequate, the setting was white and more sterile than a UWS plastic surgery office, but the coffee was the star of the entire show. Wonderful chocolate notes and a slight acidity that plays with the tongue. I was so amazed by their coffee, I asked for five refills, with cream. I will walk all day on the treadmill, but it was a well-worth luxurious treat. My friends looked in amusement, while I talked to them with hands so jittery that I wasn't able to properly sign my receipt. However, I believe the caffeine fix just made the entire coffee experience brunch more enjoyable. 

Taro Hash ($8)

Bao Burger ($16) 

Bodum = Life Changer

This is the story of how I made Jake Gyllenhaal coffee and he told me it was great. 

No words have held more beauty in the English language.

The Prisoners movie was being filmed at the office I worked. My boss, knowing how much I am obsessed with Jake Gyllenhaal, let me have a VIP status for when they shot the film. Apparently, Jake was playing a surly detective with the agenda of saving Hugh Jackman’s child from the pallid and Nietschze-driven teen actor most recognized from Little Miss Sunshine. I watched two action scenes play out, and afterwards, I was able to do a photo-op with Jake. I offered him some French press coffee (yes, I am the caffeine junkie in the office that keeps a Bodum underneath my desk) and he said yes (as did the director).  My heart soared, and I was in a dopamine-ridden state of bliss. 

Once I presented them with the coffee, I scurried off (so I wouldn’t make a complete arse of myself), and I hid behind the makeshift wall of the office's warehouse. I heard Jake say, “This coffee’s great,” and I beamed. “This coffee’s great,” will probably be the name of my firstborn or tattooed onto my ankle with a butterfly soaring across it. Here is a picture for my handful of readers to writhe in jealousy. So remember readers, love and appreciate your French Press, because one day you might be able to meet Jake Gyllenhaal, and he will recognize your existence and say you make amazing coffee. 

Note: Jake is a character actor and likes to stay in character whenever he's filming.
Hopefully, this is the reason why he looks like he's about to punch the camera. 

Turkish Coffee Saves the Day

It was a dreary day on 11^th Street. Rain was pouring, I wasn't making any progress on my term paper, and a homeless man had knocked down groceries from my arms and took off cackling with my Stoneyfield yogurt. I needed coffee. Not the subpar Starbucks coffee liquid akin to watery tar, but actual, full-bodied, and dense coffee. I immediately called a friend in the area, and we made our way to The Hummus Place at St. Mark’s. We sat in the corner table, and ordered our usual lunch specials with a side of Turkish coffee. If you haven’t had Turkish coffee, you are missing out. It is sludgy dark magic. 

Turkish coffee isn't a particular bean, but the method in which the coffee is prepared (something to note to all your friends when conversation dies, so they have the chance to unite and belittle you for being a snob - the ignorant masses everyone needs a common enemy). 

This is a coffee that isn't meant to be served on the go. So, whenever you need some time to unwind and catch up with a close friend, or want to look extra intellectual/cultured whilst reading Dostoevsky - revel in the rich and luxurious notes of Turkish coffee. I guarantee you will be so taken, that whenever you see a muddy puddle, you will crave for it. 

The Miracle on 23rd Street

I have a friend who I often visit on 23rd street. I always complain to him about how his apartment in Gramercy wasn’t near any good coffee places, and how if I had to drink one more K-Cup at his loft, I would implode. I had this ritual where if I visited him, I would get coffee on 30^th Street at Stumptown, and then trek to his place on 23^rd. He asked me, “Are you so stubborn you would walk 7 streets and 3 avenues to not drink the coffee at my place?” I would then just glare at his incredulous face, which loomed in front of me like a jaunty K-Cup 'it's so convenient' excuse-ridden tanned pusher. 

A sign from the Almighty. 

However, a miracle happened on 23rd Street! Pushcart Coffee made a new location across from my friend's apartment, and I was first in line. The lady behind the counter asked me if I wanted to try their famous latte or a Stumptown coldbrew. Being a loyal Stumptowner, but also wanting a hot beverage from a reputable coffee shop, I felt like Rosemary with her baby. I got both (this is why I am poor, and I befriend freshmen to use their dining hall plans/laundry facilities). I have no shame. It was worth the shaky hands and widened pupils. The Stumptown cold brew was everything and more (pleasant taste, smooth, and bright) and the latte was essentially a hug-in-a-cup. If you're in the area, please visit Pushcart Coffee (and get a Pecan Kiss on the side - they're baked by the manager's husband!)