[CLOSED]
Back before the day of the coffee superchain, there were coffeehouses that catered to the hip and Eurocentric. Francophiles and slacker college students had places to go that had never heard of dataports, frappachinos or self-promoting CD series (but the always-popular 650% mark-up still applied.) Savvy high schoolers soon learned that these places were a perfect alternative to bars and their damn restrictions, sending adults scrambling and making legalized dope pushers out of the Starbucks Corporation. The heyday of the coffeehouse may be behind us, but places like Caffe dell’Artista exist to remind us of our recent past–our brush with true snobbiness. One flight up on Greenwich Street, this dessert and caffeine holdout is shrouded in old wood and the haze of steamed milk. The menu is filled with delectable desserts from carrot and cheesecake to gelato and sorbet. Sure the help isn’t decked out in green smocks and “Your Server: Chip” isn’t quick with the espresso, but you have to appreciate the lack of clacking laptop keys and the Christian Bale look-alike ordering a double skim grande mochachino in his loudest voice while talking to his broker on his mobile phone. [MF]