Alright, let’s be blunt: I love coffeeshops.  Unless I am desperate, you will never catch me with a Starbucks cup in hand.  I have an unhealthy addiction to my morning latte, and it all started at one beautifully quaint coffeeshop on 149th and Broadway.

If you know anything about me, you know that for the past three years I have lived in four different apartments, seven different theaters and one coffeeshop called The Chipped Cup.  I discovered my love for mom and pop coffeeshops about nine months after my move to Hamilton Heights when I met a friend there for breakfast.  Their coffee is incredible, that’s a given; but privately-owned coffeeshops are so much more than their coffee.  The serenity that comes from being in a cozy, unique environment is such a special find in this loud and vivacious city.  Very rarely can we revisit a space outside the confines of our own that fill the warmth and peace that a small coffeeshop provides.

Looking back, I have made more memories, conversation, and artistic endeavors sitting in that coffeeshop than most other places in Manhattan.  I collaborated on my first pilot there.  I played catch up with a friend for six hours at the wobbly table in front of their bar.  I spent the afternoon there before my one woman show talking out dialogue kinks with my director and compressing my nerves.  I fell apart about my frustration with my career to my best friend at a table surrounded by their packed rush one Saturday afternoon.  I have brought many a friend there to share the warmth and familiarity this place provides for me.

People are always asking me why I pour so much time and, subsequently, money into this place.  It’s not about the coffee (although they make a mean latte).  It’s about the space they’ve created amongst the strip of 149th and Broadway that keeps me coming back.