Last August I visited the last of the remaining Andrews Coffee Shops in the city. There were two at the time. And now--there is one.
This week, in an Eater post about a new "dark dining concept from Paris" and its "fall arrival at a former Andrew's Coffee Shop," I recognized the blue sign above the papered windows as the lovely little Andrews on 38th. Apparently, it has closed, I guess sometime this past year.
It's regrettable. It was a good, out-of-the-way place, cheap and neighborly. As I described it last summer: "It had a slightly desultory air about it. No one was pumping happiness into the place. There were no flatscreen TVs screaming and no bouncy music. The song on the radio when I walked in was singing from 1990, 'If you don't love me, why don't you let me go?' Here, they let you eat in peace."
So much for all that.
At the time, I wrote, "If I had to bet which Andrews will be next to vanish, I'd say it's 38th Street, for all of the above reasons. It's not loud enough, not obnoxious enough to survive."
Sorry to win that bet, but those are the hallmarks of doom--agreeable and quiet? Doomed.
As for what's to come, writes Eater: "they will serve a $65 prix fixe" and "have diners enter the room via a conga line... Also there are panic buttons."
I feel panicky just thinking about it.
Read more about Andrews:
Andrews Coffee Shop