Coffee shops
Should Cafes Ask Customers to Leave?
My favorite cafe asked me to leave last week. For the second time.
I’ll tell you why I feel sad: when I first found Crema Cafe two years ago, I fell in love. I spent so much time there, my sweaters absorbed its scent, an inexorable melange of lattes, carbs, and indie-pop Pandora playlists. The owners described it as a place between home and work; I took that quite literally. I proudly told my friends I was considering moving in.
Over the past two years, I’ve spent so many happy hours in that cafe. I love bringing my laptop to do work on the upstairs level. I’ve forcibly dragged friends there and bought them my favorites, just so they could be converted. I’ve blogged about them, plugged them on Serious Eats, posted photos to various food sites. When I signed up for Mint.com, I budgeted a very liberal portion for “coffee.”
If you ask me for restaurant recommendations, you’ll likely hear raves about their turkey-avocado-jicama-slaw sandwich or their baked-fresh-from-scratch pastries.
So I disappointed when I was asked to leave during a busy Saturday afternoon to make room for other customers. I’d been there for a little over 2 hours with my laptop, and had planned on taking a seat closer to a wall outlet when one of the owners stepped in. (I had polished off a medium coffee and a chicken sandwich.) He had promised that table to another customer; since I had headphones on, I hadn’t seen the line forming behind me.
He was apologetic. As I was leaving, he apologized again. And this was the second time – a month before, a different owner had asked me to leave, but relented when I bought another sandwich. I’ve generally tried to share my table or buy another pastry during marathon study sessions, but I know I’ve overstayed my welcome in the past.
And I understand why they’re taking a more aggressive tack. Mostly. They charge reasonable prices for freshly made food. They have high labor costs and rent; they depend on table turnover and volume to pay the bills. I ended up chatting that owner for about an hour about the trials of the business world and how to solve the problem of being too popular.
I’m happy Crema has done well. It clearly has no problem attracting loyal customers and long lines. But I’m disappointed that the same place that I cheered for and championed feels that its success is dependent on asking me to leave. Are the two really at odds?
Perhaps this Seth Godin (a well-known marketer) post about “best customers” summarizes some of how I’m feeling:
If you define “best customer” as the customer who pays you the most, then I guess it’s not surprising that the reflex instinct is to charge them more. After all, they’re happy to pay.
But what if you define “best customer” as the person who brings you new customers through frequent referrals, and who sticks with you through thick and thin? That customer, I think, is worth far more than what she might pay you in any one transaction. In fact, if you think of that customer as your best marketer instead, it might change everything.
If you’re a cafe lover, do you think cafe owners should ask customers who have finished eating to leave?
Cafe owners, how do you deal with slow table turnover?
A love affair with coffee shops – The Biscuit in Somerville
Fruit tart ($3.50) at The Biscuit in Somerville
It was spring, freshman year. By then, the Cambridge frost had receded from the cobblestone, and warm air spilled out from T stop as you walked by. To cheer myself up, I’d appoint myself in a wrap dress and green wedge sandals, the ones my mother bought me from China, and slip on a pair of $10 sunglasses. Then I’d find a coffeeshop.
And I’d sit there, feeling the caffeine ooze into my blood, my fingertips, buzzing in the back of my mouth. There was something nice about being surrounded by people you didn’t feel guilty for not knowing.
As a result, I’m an unapologetic table hog. I’ve planned days where I come in the morning, buy a large cup of joe, stake out a table, and stay for a good 8 hours. I love how coffeeshops occupy a liminal space that is not quite home, school, or work.
You can go by yourself, or with a friend. You can talk, or not talk. You can linger, or you can rush. You can eat, or just drink.
The Biscuit is a favorite of mine that I often forget. They suffer from a few flaws – there’s no wifi, and seating could be more plentiful. Their pastries are enormous – think, biscotti the width of your forearm – and cheap. But you’d probably have better luck, in terms of execution, with their hot sandwiches. You can even get them in halves for $3.25 each. Blissful.
I was seduced by the candy-toned hues of their fruit tart ($3.50), but was a little underwhelmed by the crust, which was more of a brioche than a pastry crust. Maybe a personal preference. Even so, I love the charm of their mismatched wooden chairs, chalkboard menu, and low prices. If you’re looking for a more substantial lunch, Kebab Factory down the street has Cambridge’s best Indian buffet by far. It’s a lovely part of town, and one that Harvard students don’t often discover.
Find it!
———-
406 Washington St
Somerville, MA 02143
(617) 666-2770
Harvard Square Cafes: the definitive guide
a brownie from Crema (good for camping out to)
Harvard Square is home not only to a lot of foot-fetishizing Japanese tourists and uppity academics, but also an overwhelming number of cafes. For real cafe die-hards, these businesses are much more than a coffee dispenser. (I’m looking at you, the one nursing your $3 latte for 6 hours.) Here’s to admitting that your trapped-on-a-desert-island essentials include your Macbook, a wi-fi connection, and a hard stool you had to elbow through the lunch rush crowd for.
My favorite secret study spot in Harvard Square: Karma Tea
I may regret letting this one out of the bag, but Karma Tea on Mass Ave is a truly magical study nook. While it may be better known for the yoga studio attached to it, the floor-to-ceiling windows, rock sculptures, and comfy faux-suede chairs are every bit as zenergizing as the physical exertions in the studio upstairs. They carry vegan muffins from Veggie Planet (haven’t sampled these, but “blueberry lime” sounds intriguing) and I’ve enjoyed their cupcake treats in the past. Recently, I had a hibiscus elderflower lemonade which tasted similar to a cranberry lemonade with a more floral note. $2.25 netted me a giant, elegant iced glass of it. Did I mention there’s a great outlet board to plug your laptop into AND free wi-fi? Magic, indeed.
Starbucks in China: The Good, The Bad, and the Sugarfree
A Starbucks in Chengdu, China
While Starbucks is sometimes seen as a monolithic coffeeslinger to the upwardly mobile masses, the coffee chain’s branches abroad don’t entirely conjure up home. Though it’s mostly a deliciously familiar task of navigating between tall, grande, and venti, be it NYC or Shanghai, I felt alienated at times without my standby sugarfree option and decent English magazines. (I wrote about how much I adored Starbucks in my post about being culture shocked.)
Starbucks is transliterated/translated as 星巴克 (xing ba ke, literally star + transliteration of “bucks”). They’ve done an admirable and interestingly incomplete job of localizing its stores.
Overall, I will say that the similarities far outweigh the differences. Starbucks is not meant to be a Chinese experience so much as a Western one, including the quirky name scheme for different sizes, which is preserved. Its foreignness, that is to say, is a desirable quality. But the changes reveal interesting cultural differences in how – or which – people drink this stuff.
Some background: the Chinese coffee market is rapidly growing – one industry report pegs growth in the double digits – and there’s plenty of room for expansion. Per capita consumption hasn’t reached .1kg yet, while Japan, another traditionally tea-drinking nation, gulps down 3.3kg per capita. Starbucks first moved into the Chinese market in 1999 with its first store in the China World Trade Center in Beijing and has been expanding rapidly ever since.
Another Starbucks in Chengdu.
Coffee has really taken off in urban areas, where you can see expats and Chinese alike sucking down giant Fraps during business meetings. Here, it’s more a fact of daily life, but if you talk to the laobaixing (normal people), particularly the older generation and those not as well off, they’ll cringe at the idea of drinking coffee.
On foldout Beijing map distributed by the company, it not only maps every Starbucks locale (66 in total at the time of printing, 68 now), but also touts the chain as a blend of local and American culture. While the menu has a familiar slate of iced coffee, macchiatos, and lattes, I noticed major differences in not only drinks, but also the way they’re ordered.
Here’s a quick and dirty rundown of what you can expect.
What’s different.
1) There’s no sugarfree option.
Actually, the whole concept of “sugarfree” is pretty alien in China. Your only real option for sugarless drinks is diet Coke, and even then, that’s not guaranteed in most restaurants. So when you order your caramel frappucino, rest assured it comes with nothing but real sweetness. If you ask baristas about Splenda, they may look at you blankly (“Fake sugar! In yellow packets!” I tried to explain) but it is offered as a nod to those kooky Western traditions.
2) There’s less customization.
American Starbucks views a coffee drink as a make-your-own affair. The menu is not so much a menu, but a starting point for a perfectly customized, no whip, sugar free, extra shot concoction. Chinese people, however, tend to order coffee as it is labeled on the menu without lots of special requests – partly because most people aren’t that familiar with coffee in the first place. Some menus I’ve seen also have helpful, illustrated instructions on how to order a coffee, with steps like choosing a size and deciding whip or no whip.
3) Specialty flavors cater to local palates.
I tried a coffee with grass jelly concoction that would seem more in place at a bubble tea stop. Bits of black jelly shot up my straw, cool and slippery, as I marveled at the “glocalization” of a simple drink. The bill came out… a lot. Which brings me to my next point.
4) Prices are sky high.
The tall iced coffee, at 15 RMB (about 2.20 USD) is the drink closest to its US price. But since coffee is considered a luxury, lifestyle drink here, its pricing places it firmly out of the reach of many and even caused me to think twice about ordering anything but uh, a tall iced coffee. A simple vanilla latte is 30 RMB, about 4.40 USD, more than you would pay stateside. To put 30 RMB in context, a cheap entree in a Chinese restaurant in Shanghai would run about 15 RMB. A bowl of noodles is 5-6 RMB. Eat several meals or drink a latte? I would hate to choose.
5) There’s no extra charge for soy.
This is a land of soy!
6) People tend to sit and stay.
There’s a lot less takeout business (http://www.seattlepi.com/business/228728_sbuxchina16.html), and a lot more sipping, socializing, and meeting up. People stay for the experience, rather than just grabbing a pick-me-up and dashing.
If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it: what hasn’t changed.
1) Baristas repeat the order in English.
One quirk, however, is “tall iced coffee” becomes “iced tall coffee.”
2) Similar snacks and food are offered.
There’s the same offering of biscotti and muffins, but wait: Starbucks-branded moon cakes! At insane prices!
Yep, that's 328 yuan, or $48 USD, for four decorative cakes. Or you could buy nearly 70 bowls of noodles for the same price. Or a five course meal at a very nice restaurant.
3) Tall iced coffee is pretty much the same thing – and price – on both continents.
It’s my standby cheap, low cal, caffeinated pick me up. When I was back on American soil, it was also the first thing I bought in the LA airport, waiting for my connecting flight. Some good things just never change.
4) Baristas are (bizarrely) friendly.
I have no proof that I didn’t just happen to have naturally friendly baristas. But if you’ve tasted service culture in China, you know that good, Chinese-style service tends towards deferential, not chatty. In fact, my cashier asking casually if I was late to work one morning as I dropped a bookbag on the counter threw me for a loop. I wouldn’t have thought twice about it in the US, but the day before, something similar had happened. Did they… train them to make small talk? I have to wonder.
5) There are plenty of competitors.
Just as Starbucks must contend with independent coffeehouses and chains like Coffee Beanery and Peet’s Coffee in the US, there’s even more visible competition in major cities like Shanghai where every other street sports rivals like SPR Coffee (http://www.sprcoffee.com/), Costa Coffee (http://www.costa.co.uk/), and the Coffee Bean (http://coffeebean.com/).
Happy caffeinating!