Cafe Review: Jitters Cafe
Name: Jitters Cafe Inc
Address: 12 Main Street, Oak Grove Village, Melrose, MA 02176
Hours: Mon - Fri 7am-7pm | Sat & Sun 7am-5pm
Website: Jitters
Coffee: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
Food: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
Atmosphere: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
Service: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
Overall: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
Overall Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
You know, I’ve always been the type of person who opts for a few really close, loyal friends instead of a deep bench of casual acquaintances. If you make the cut, congratulations, I did not make the decision lightly. Similarly, I have a handful of restaurants from which I never deviate, and I usually order the same thing at each place. Not to brag, but I currently have a breakfast place where I can just order “the usual” and they know what I mean. If I didn’t giggle each time after I said it, it would come across as pretty cool. However, when it comes to coffee (something I rank way higher than both human interaction and food), I’m the town Casanova, ping-ponging from cafe to cafe, drink to drink… racking up a concerning number of meaningless encounters in my daily quest to avoid a headache from lack of caffeine.
“What’s the name of this place again? Ah, never mind, it doesn’t matter, I’ll have a large black coffee.”
“Thank you, sir. Please come again.”
“Stop smothering me. I feel like we’re married.”
While it’s fun to go wherever, whenever to order whatever, is that really the kind of person I aspire to be? Do cafes gossip? Will my questionable reputation amongst these cafes affect potential future decisions like running for president or finally getting that library card? About a year ago, I figured it was time to settle down, and so it was with long-term commitment in mind that I decided to try Jitters.
Jitters has a nice, typical coffee-shop feel. The lights are dim, soft, and pleasant. A comforting fresh-baked-cookie aroma permeates the air. The decor consists of an assortment of seating options—booths, stools, and “comfy” chairs—accompanying tables, and people working on their laptops. (I assume these are actually just mannequins arranged for atmosphere.) In addition to drinks, the menu includes breakfast sandwiches, paninis, soups, salads, and cookies. Upon my first visit, I decided to take things slow and begin the relationship by ordering a large cold brew, which was excellent. The large is also pretty big, which gave me plenty of time to claim a high table for one, and scope out what had the potential to be my forever cafe.
Looking around, the first thing I noticed was the WiFi password written out in chalk. I forget the exact words, but it was something like “don’t hog the booths.” Taking a long drag from my cold brew, I decided I didn’t care for that, as it was kind of negative and implied a lot of baggage. Worse still, after performing the degrading act of typing this scold into my phone, I couldn’t even seem to connect. I’m happy to report Jitters has since changed to a more normal password, and I’ve had no trouble logging on since that first time, but you only get one first impression!
Regardless, as I finished my drink, I knew Jitters was a cafe I’d be interested in seeing again. That is, until I heard a loud crash outside. Like everyone else in the cafe, I looked out the window to see what had happened. To my surprise, a car accident had occurred right outside the establishment. While nobody was hurt, and it looked to be relatively minor, I began to wonder through my vibrating caffeine buzz what this meant for me and Jitters. Was it an ominous message from beyond that Jitters was not the cafe for me? Was it an act of aggression by one of the many jilted cafes from my sordid past? Or was it just a funny story Jitters and I would someday tell our kids? Whatever it was, it was definitely all about me, and I decided to tread lightly in my courtship of Jitters.
“I have also fallen prey to the wonderful, delightful cookie smell I mentioned earlier, and I am not sorry for it. The cookies are so good...”
Over this past year, I have cautiously continued to frequent Jitters, learning of its many endearing quirks and ordering different items on the menu. I’ll start with the quirks:
The bathroom situation: I could say Jitters has a bathroom, but I think a more accurate statement would be that Jitters has access to a bathroom. The exact location of said bathroom? I have no idea! You start in Jitters, proceed down a disorienting labyrinth of hallways that seems to defy time and space, and if you’re lucky, end up in a bathroom. More than once, I’ve almost walked into the kitchen of a whole other restaurant. I assume it is the kitchen of Bobby C’s, the restaurant right next to Jitters, but it could also be the kitchen of a cruise ship off the coast in France in the 1950s, as again, this hallway is a portal to another dimension.
Ordering food: When a customer orders food at Jitters, they get a number that they are supposed to place on their table. Once their order is ready, a Jitters employee looks for that number and delivers the food. Simple, right? Apparently not, as a trip to Jitters wouldn’t be complete without watching an employee holding a plate and aimlessly wandering around the cafe like a lost child at the mall. The only discernible difference is that, instead of fearfully crying, “Mom?…Mom?” the employees at Jitters are shakily calling out, “Sausage, egg, and cheese? Sausage, egg, and cheese?”
Speaking of sausage, egg, and cheese - that’s what I get! It is a solid breakfast sandwich, and when you order it with two eggs instead of one, it is stacked English muffin/egg/sausage/egg/English muffin, palindrome-style, which is neat!
I have also fallen prey to the wonderful, delightful cookie smell I mentioned earlier, and I am not sorry for it. The cookies are so good, and somehow consistently maintained at the perfect temperature. I would definitely recommend the chocolate chip, but I’m sure they’re all fantastic.
Finally, when I’m not ordering a cold brew or a black coffee, I’ve found that I truly enjoy Jitters’ hot apple cider. Even during the summer! On one particularly hot day, the person taking my order questioned my decision to order it, repeating, “Are you sure? Are you sure? Are you sure?” so many times that I still don’t know if she was kidding or legitimately concerned. I kind of felt like I was getting cut off at a bar. She eventually let me order a piping hot apple cider on a 90 degree day, and despite a little bit of embarrassment, I appreciated that she cared, because when someone doesn’t care, it hurts…
Photos from Jitters' Facebook
On my most recent visit to Jitters, the person who took my order greeted me with a, “What will it be, my man?” which I liked, because it showed he knew I was chill. When I ordered a large cold brew, he responded, “All right, that’ll be five flat,” and my jaw almost hit the floor. That is such a cool way of saying five dollars even! I’m still waiting for an opportunity to use that phrase in my own life!
Quick side note: I have been witness to a lot of cool things lately. Just this week, I saw a guy on the train fold his hooded sweatshirt in a way that allowed for the whole thing to fit inside the hood, and he used the drawstring as a strap to hold it like a little gift-wrapped purse. If that wasn’t cool enough, he then popped in his earbuds, began grooving to whatever he was listening to, produced a food container from somewhere, and then just started knocking back grapes for the rest of the train ride. Wow!
Anyway, once I finished ordering, I stepped aside and let the two kids behind me step up to order. That’s when I heard it:
“What will it be, my man?”
My heart sank. Why would he greet them the same way he greeted me? Does he say that to everybody? He must! To add insult to injury, once my cold brew was prepared, he instructed another employee to bring it to “the guy wearing glasses.”
“I thought I was special…” I lamented to myself, sipping my cold brew and hogging a booth out of spite. “I thought I was special…”
Suddenly, it dawned on me. That employee and I weren’t all that different. The way I felt in that moment… unremarkable, passed over, sad… that’s how those past cafes must have felt because of me… because of my noncommittal, infrequent visiting habits. I deserved that pain. I was a monster.
Jitters didn’t become my one and only, as I think I’ll always be a sort of coffee-philanderer, but Jitters isn’t just a notch on my belt either. We have a special relationship, and I am a changed person for having visited. How many stars does one assign to a cafe that taught them so much about themselves?
Five flat… five flat…
