Last summer, I spent a month in New York City.
If you know me at all, you know I’m a coffee fiend — not the “venti caramel whatever” kind, but the origin, elevation, terroir, processing-method kind.
For me, coffee starts long before the cup. I’m curious about where it was grown, what variety of plant it comes from, how it was processed after harvest, how it was roasted, and how it’s brewed. All of this shapes what ends up in your mug.
Most coffee served today is not designed to highlight the coffee itself.
Many people find it strange when someone drinks coffee black. How could you not at least add milk?
For a long time, Folgers-style coffee defined (and still defines) what many people think coffee should taste like — much like Kleenex became synonymous with facial tissue.
I’ll be blunt: Folgers sucks. Whenever I’m forced to drink conventional coffee (Folgers, Maxwell, McDonald’s, Starbucks, Dunkin’), I too reach for milk and sugar.
Coffee doesn’t have to be bitter, bold, and heavy. There is much more to explore.
Around the turn of the century, a new wave of coffee emerged: third-wave coffee.
Third-wave drinkers hone in on the bean much like a wine connoisseur on the grape.
Instead of masking bitterness, they cultivate and highlight the bean’s natural flavors.
Many third-wave drinkers prefer their coffee black for this reason. However, the same flavors can be explored in milk drinks too.
The cortado, my favorite milk drink, still allows you to taste the coffee itself with its 1:1 espresso-to-milk ratio.
Personally, I don’t order a milk drink larger than an 8 oz cappuccino or flat white. Anything larger loses the taste of the coffee itself.
Third-wave producers have refined the process from farm to cup, unlocking fruit and floral flavors.
One thing ties these coffees together: they are usually roasted lighter.
I once had a friend ask me why trendy coffee shops always have sour coffee.
He is picking up on something real. The coffee fruit is naturally tart. When roasters keep the roast lighter to preserve the bean’s origin character, that fruit acidity shows up in the cup.
That said, tasting just “sour” could just mean it wasn’t properly brewed (under extracted).
Generally, the acidity of a well-brewed light roast will not be sour, though pleasant brightness may be present.
My friend may simply have grown up on dark roasts and internalized that as “what coffee tastes like.”
Again, I won’t disparage anyone’s coffee preference, but I do highly encourage sincerely exploring light-roast coffee. (Seriously, how can you turn down notes of berries, stone fruit, Earl Grey, and honeysuckle ? 😊)
If you find it’s not your jam, there are specialty roasters who sell dark roast (“developed”) coffee with the same intent of retaining the unique character of the bean. These coffees will have less acidity, but in absolute terms, you are losing characteristics that would be present in a lighter roast of the same coffee.
All in all, the important part is that you like what you’re drinking.
As you explore these kinds of coffees, you’ll notice something else: the price.
Some high-end shops charge $7, $10, or even $17 for certain pour-overs or espresso selections. That can feel shocking at first. But those prices usually reflect rare coffees — small-lot harvests, experimental processing methods, or varieties that are difficult to grow.
It’s similar to wine. You can buy a perfectly good bottle for $15 — or you can spend more for something grown at a specific vineyard, at a specific elevation, in a specific year. The higher price doesn’t automatically mean you’ll like it more. It just means you’re paying for rarity and craftsmanship.
So where do you find coffee like I’ve described?
As I’ve traveled here and there, I’ve come to a loose method of finding coffee shops I’ll probably like.
Some of these are easier to determine than others online. I mostly look at their website, Google Maps photos, and if they’re on any “best coffee” lists. (Remember though, the author’s “best” may not align with the coffee philosophy I’m advocating for.)
Essential pro tip: Ask baristas where other good coffee is. Lists of good coffee online are unreliable and exhausting to comb through.
Using this approach, I set out to find the best coffee I could during my month in New York.
This list focuses on the coffee itself rather than the space or food. If you care about terroir, light roasts, and tasting the bean — these are your spots.
Here are my favorites, roughly in order of how much they impressed me.
Other coffee shops recommended to me I didn’t get to:
I hope you find this list helpful the next time you’re in NYC.
Cheers! ☕
Powered by AI. Responses may not be accurate.