“’Cause we make the hipsters fall in love” – Kesha (2010)

In Harvard Square’s Clover, a row of coffee filters adorns the counter, percolating coffee for all to observe. On Thursday, I strode into Clover for the first time, tasked with penning an eloquent ode to the young coffee shop. I couldn’t decide if the coffee slowly trickling into the gaping mouth of the cup seemed urinary or nurturing (like a mother bird feeding its baby?).

I ordered coffee and a breakfast popover for a cool $8. Shortly after ordering, I discovered Clover’s “secret” menu. You can pick up a copy from a stack of 4X6 notecards right next to the real menu-- a well-kept secret indeed.

I’ll be quite upfront: I didn’t particularly enjoy the atmosphere. Though the popover was superb-- if an egg and a croissant had a salacious love affair, the product would probably be this popover-- the food was overpriced and seemed a little precious. I also didn’t bring close to enough moleskin journals. Upon a cursory (and very journalistic) stroll around both floors, I spotted three (three!) 20-something-year old men sporting beanies and copies of David Foster Wallace’s Infinite Jest.  

Despite this my initial skepticism, Clover’s value to the greater Cambridge area quickly became apparent. Before Clover came to the Square in 2010, these beanie-wearing, encyclopedic-novel-toting, flannel-wearing young men and women were relegated to getting their caffeination from mainstream establishments not attuned to their needs. They had to ask incompetent baristas about whether or not their muesli was fair-trade and, worse, they were forced to rub elbows with people who had not once read David Foster Wallace. Not even one of his  short stories.

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And herein lies the beauty of Clover. It provides a community, a space for congregation, for this group of artistes.

The gleaming white walls juxtaposed against authentic wood-grain tables create just the sense of post-industrial ennui necessary for these artistic heroes, who are just one rewrite away from a Man-Booker Prize-winning semi-autobiographical novel about a twenty-something from Somerville who is disillusioned with modern life.

Additionally, Clover’s extensive selection of beers makes it easy to knock back a nice bohemian cool one at 11am between chapters of Joyce’s Ulysses.

Coke executive Robert Woodruff, famous Atlanta philanthroper and purveyor of sugared beverages, once put up millions of dollars to start an arts center for the city of Atlanta. No lover of the arts himself, he famously said that while he might never set foot in the building, it was important for the city to have it.

It is in precisely the same spirit that I’ll toss Clover $8 for a breakfast popover and coffee every once in a while. You should stop by too. Enjoy a sumptuous eggplant platter. For the artists.

— C. Ramsey Fahs