When Coffee Shop debuted in 1990, Union Square was quite a different place. Though Max’s Kansas City — where bad-boy rockers Mick Jagger and Iggy Pop once hung — closed in 1981, and a park renovation had begun in 1985, much of the old grit remained. One was still hesitant to cross Union Square at midnight, except to score a “loose joint” — a thin, pre-rolled marijuana cigarette that sold for a dollar.
Sure, Union Square Cafe was also founded in 1985, but it wasn’t really on the park and it was considered the refuge of the wealthy, who already occupied loft apartments in the vicinity. When Coffee Shop appeared, perched at the lonely corner of 16th and Union Square West and open 23 hours per day, it caused something of a sensation for several reasons. Now, the restaurant is closing on Sunday, October 14, nearly 30 years later.
Coffee Shop replaced an actual coffee shop called Chase but retained the coffee shop’s old neon sign that climbed the corner of the building, which said Coffee Shop in a gigantic font. In fact, it was probably one of the first places to “steal” the identity of a previous establishment, imbuing the neon sign with a certain irony. (Apothecary on Avenue A was another early example of restaurant identity theft, while the newest iteration of Village Den is a contemporary one.)
But once the curious scenesters started creeping in, they discovered that the menu was like a parody of a regular coffee shop menu. Though it still had hamburgers and egg breakfasts, if also offered Brazilian fare and healthy salads in a weird mix that eventually included Mexican flourishes. Much later, Coffee Shop spun off a taqueria next door, Flat Tire.
Also, there were the waitresses. Dressed in slinky black, they were rumored to be models waiting for their ship to come in, a reputation driven in part by the ownership, who were all former Wilhelmina models. The place also served cocktails, which is not something you’d find in a normal coffee shop at the time. One more thing: The coffee was actually good.
Over its almost three-decade existence, Coffee Shop piled up other firsts. Proximity to the farmers market meant that the salads and vegetables were good, without making a federal case about it. The breakfast was sumptuous, and the potatoes were small, firm, and red, roasted and then fried — giving them an excitement you don’t usually find in diner spuds.
Later on, it erected a yellow shed on the 16th Street side specializing in freshly squeezed juices, a harbinger of the juice craze that was to begin years later. Around the same time, the place served as a backdrop for several scenes in the hit TV series Sex and the City. Coffee Shop also partly originated the breakfast-all-day format, at least at this price point of the restaurant industry.
Just as Palladium was winding down as a destination, Coffee Shop provided a reason to go to Union Square again. Its patrons were art students from the Pratt dorm on the same block, Barnes & Noble workers and customers, farmers market gazers, and East Villagers looking for a nice place with a view of something besides decaying tenements to take their parents.
And then there’s kale. With its Brazilian influences, which amounted to three or four main courses plus some sides, kale was the king of leafy vegetables at Coffee Shop, even 28 years ago, which constitutes premature kale worship.
I went for a couple of nostalgic visits recently to say farewell to an old favorite that I’d rarely visited in the last few years. Its best dish was still on the menu, a Brazilian shrimp Baiano, referring to the Afrocentric state of Bahia. This bright red garlicky stew comes sided with an orange slice and sauteed kale, and it was just as delectable as it ever was.
Other Brazilian dishes have disappeared from the permanent menu but often appear among the specials, including the cheese balls called pao de quiejo and the national dish of feijoada: miscellaneous pig parts in a rich black bean stew, sprinkled with toasted manioc meal. In a city that needs more Brazilian food, Coffee Shop was a real asset.
Other dishes were hit or miss as Coffee Shop aged, and its patrons with it. Still, the outdoor tables with a view of the park were always filled in fine weather, even though the triple dining rooms often weren’t. Does a restaurant have a natural life span, like human beings? This one certainly did, along with its late companion on the same block of Union Square West, Republic Noodles. Together, they made this side of the park a destination for reasonably priced eats in an upbeat setting. Innovative for their time, both will be missed.