On the Devastating Loss of a Neighborhood Coffee Shop
And what it means to be a 'regular' customer.
The crumb cake was the first thing I tried, paired with a cup of coffee. The cake was buttery, dense yet sponge-like. With most crumb cakes I’ve eaten, the cake part has always seemed unnecessary. That was never the case with Phil’s crumb cake, where the crumb topping and sponge were always in perfect harmony.
After the crumb cake I tried the scones, lemon bars, croissants, tropezienne. The best part of Phil’s coffee and bakeshop, Seeds of Love, was his rotating menu of baked goods that he advertised on his Instagram page the moment they were hot out of the oven. (I’ve raced from my apartment to the shop after an Instagram post from Phil to ensure I got one of his new or popular baked goods many times.)
I discovered Seeds of Love (S.O.L.), a true hole-in-the-wall coffee shop, my first day in Carroll Gardens. I had spent the night on a mattress on the floor, books and boxes were everywhere, and I had only a single chair to sit on. I should have gotten an early start unpacking and ordering furniture for the apartment, but the sunlight spilling in through the windows indicated that it was a beautiful May Saturday, meant for wandering not working. Plus, I was hungry and didn’t know which box held my coffee maker.
It would be easy to miss Seeds of Love if it weren’t for the bright yellow awning, the little chalkboard sign Phil put out each morning to advertise his specials or make you stop to read a funny/inspirational quote (pretty sure the sign said something like “I want someone to look at me the way I look at coffee” the first morning I found S.O.L.), and the smell of baked goods fresh from the oven. It’s a tiny rectangle of a building, the “size of an IKEA bedroom,” Phil once said on Instagram. There was nowhere to eat inside, but there was a small table with a chair outside if you couldn’t wait to get home to enjoy the first bite of a baked good, the first sip of coffee. That little table is where I enjoyed my crumb cake.
Phil is such a warm and funny person. S.O.L. was clearly a passion project. The space, the food, the coffee had heart and soul. Looking through his Instagram page, he seems like he was often more of a mad scientist than a baker, experimenting with ingredients to come up with stuff like salted Nutella fudge, Snickers scones, white cheddar kettle corn Krispy treats, frittata sandwiches. Everything Phil made was truly unique.
When COVID hit the neighborhood, he quickly turned Seeds of Love into a food pickup window to limit human contact. Each day he churned out soups and sandwiches and chicken parmigiana and baked goods to keep his business afloat, but mostly to feed and comfort all the people he’d gotten to know through serving them coffee over the years.
Apart from being an amazing baker, Phil is open and willing to learn and evolve. Around the time that protests were happening around the country in response to the murders of George Floyd and Breonna Taylor by police, Phil showed his support for the BLM protests in an Instagram post. His post, however, used the phrase “all lives matter.” Customers were quick to call him out, and he was quick to remove that post and apologize:
“Wow! I’m a chef, I work every day. And when I have a day off…I’m working.
I DID NOT know that the term ‘all lives matter’ in any way criticizes Black Lives Matter and had I, I would NEVER [have] posted it. Maybe it’s time for me to work a little less and catch up on things. I apologize to any person this might have offended. I’m sorry.”
I’m not saying Phil deserves a pat on the back, but I’m glad he apologized as opposed to getting defensive. Phil engaged people in the comments of this post. He wanted to make up for his ignorance.
On March 12, Phil posted that he would be closing S.O.L on March 14, after 7 years in Carroll Gardens. Unlike many small businesses in Brooklyn, he wasn’t forced to shutter his coffee and bakeshop due to the impacts of COVID; in his post, he said that he’s ready to move on, begin a new adventure. “I have been planning this for months,” he wrote. “I hope you’ve enjoyed your experiences at S.O.L. and remember them. Through S.O.L. (Seeds of Love) I’ve met a lot of beautiful people, have made some really great friends, and have had LOTS of laughs. Know that I appreciate that and I appreciate all of you!”
This news hit me hard—another shuttered business. Soon there will probably be a ‘For Rent’ sign in S.O.L.’s window. But I don’t know why I’ve been so upset about this. I didn’t get coffee there every day, every other day, or even every other weekend. During COVID, I’ve barely visited at all. Going out for coffee and hanging out in coffee shops was part of my pre-COVID existence. Why does this feel like such a devastating loss?
I feel like I didn’t have enough time with Seeds of Love. While the shop has been in Carroll Gardens for 7 years, I have not. Of course this is ridiculous, irrational. And it’s my own fault that I squandered the brief time I had with S.O.L. Why didn’t I get my coffee there every day? Why didn’t I try more baked goods? Why didn’t I become friends with Phil? I coulda been a regular (picture me saying this with a Brando accent).
Losing S.O.L. got me thinking about what it means to be a regular and whether I’m a regular anywhere (I’m considering writing an essay about this). Honestly…I don’t think I am. When it was safe to do so, I went to specific bars and restaurants and coffee shops regularly, but does just showing up make someone a regular? The regulars I’ve observed in these spaces talk to other customers and the people who work there. They engage. But me? I’m wallflower girl and always have been. I observe what’s happening around me, but I’m never part of it. This outside-looking-in position is where I’m most comfortable, but I’m also desperate to belong.
I can’t become a regular if I remain an outsider. But if I stay an outsider, I’ll never have to find out that I actually don’t belong anywhere.
I’m sure we all have lists of things we wish we did more of before COVID, and what we hope we’ll be able to do after. I wish I connected with my community more. While I plan to do this in the after, I don’t know what my community will look like when this pandemic is over. Seeds of Love is gone for good—I lost my chance to become a regular there.
Luckily, there are about 500 other coffee shops within walking distance. I’ll have to take my chances with them.