Habana Outpost, Brooklyn

Wee here, now! returns after a far too long absence, brought about by too much work and too much travel (mostly coinciding). We venture back with a brief review of sorts from far beyond these shores... Since my first discovery of Habana Outpost, in Fort Greene (Brooklyn ) in 2009, I found it delightful (particularly delighting in their grilled corn, to be fair). If you find yourself in the Kings County, head down, eat some grilled corn, and by god go to the restroom... They are rather nice. The Outpost is uber-eco, and the loos are lush with greenery for an outdoor feel...

Moreover, they are potentially award-winning! On a recent visit I was happily surprised to discover that they were a finalist in something I never knew existed: the America's Best Restroom award. Of course there's a best restroom competition in the US!

All I can say is, go check 'em out!

Can toilet paper reflect something about a nation?

Does toilet paper reveal national identity or values?

exhibit 1: hotel

Does toilet paper say something about national character? Or perhaps, better, about cultural values? Or about cultural stereotypes?

I have been pondering this question over the days I have been in Deutschland, as I’ve been struck by the very different quality of their loo paper. From the moment of my arrival using the toilets at Frankfurt airport, through various hotel (see exhibits 1-2), public* (exhibits 3, 8), train (exhibit 4), restaurant/cafe (exhibits 5-6) and university (exhibit 7) toilets I have been steadfastly surveying in the characteristics and quality of the ‘cloth’, true scientist that I am, to determine if my initial observations hold strong. And they seem to.

exhibit 2: hotel

My first thought, days ago in Frankfurt airport, was that it was harder than what I am used to. And I’m not one of those ‘buy the really soft/fluffy loo roll’ types of gal. Oh no, it’s recycled and relatively minimalist for me, all the time. So my ‘hard/soft’ loo roll bar is pretty high. But I think it is ‘harder’ here. Whether the paper is thin (as in exhibit 7) or thick (as in exhibit 2), it has a texture that’s, well, hard is the best word I can find to describe it (this may not be the best word, but the best word I can find. I tried to blow my nose on it once. Ow, my poor old schnozz, I might as well have used newspaper. I won’t be doing that again!

exhibit 3: public loo

exhibit 4: train

exhibit 5: cafe

The loo paper here seems perfunctory – it’s there to do a job; it’s not there to caress and comfort. It’s loo paper that, if it could talk, would tell us to just get over ourselves and get on with it. To come back to my ponderings, what are the (undeserved) stereotypes of Germans? Humourless, serious, efficient and officious... (NB: I am not saying they are true!) These seem to sum up German loo roll perfectly.

exhibit 6: cafe

Quite curiously, however, the hand towels – which are everywhere, it’s a paper-hand-towel-loving-girl’s heaven – in contrast are far softer than the ones at home. What gives?

exhibit 7: university

* they don't have enough of these... I encountered one sole public loo (shown in exhibit 8), with just one stall for women, and one for men... hardly what the 1000s of Berlin tourists need.

exhibit 8: public loo

little hero

Little Hero features a small cafe as part of an organic foodstore in Pt Chev, with baked delights from the wonderful Ben Chow of former Zeitgeist fame on offer on Fridays and Saturday (get in quick: his feijoa tart is tart, delicious and to die for! his brownie is legendary, quite possibly the best in the city); Ben's hand also features on the coffee machine on those days.

As it's part of a shop, the cafe fits in a space not fully designed for the purpose; the loo is similarly slightly awkwardly located: head out the side door into the yard (summer seating), down the back (beware rain!) and back into the building.... A single loo, not disabled, is fitted into a tight space without natural light... It's clean and tidy, but doesn't aim to be more than a loo is. It's not a loo you want to sit and ponder the meaning of life on.

The handbasin offers the biggest surprise in the space, being green and of plastic... The hand soap is nice, a good domestic product (I'd be disappointed with anything else, though, since this is an organic store!). The loo roll itself is commercial, though the hand drying products are paper towels. Phew!

This loo fits firmly within the functional category, a place to visit if necessary; it does not provide a reason to visit the cafe itself.

teed st larder

I was prompted to write about Teed St Larder, when I saw they were also reviewed (5/5!) in the paper today. I have a fondness for their home-made crumpets served with lemon curd (crumpet and lemon curd, a revelation!). The cafe itself is large and slightly cavernous, and I think they haven't quite got it right, in terms of space.... But it would be my current top Newmarket pick, and they do have a pretty good loo.

Well, in fact they have two - and relatively unusually for Auckland cafes, these are sex-segregated... no dirty boy germs in the girls' loo; no dirty girl germs in the boys' loo! So I can't speak for the men's, but the women's is good. Although it lacks natural light, it is spacious with a maidenhair fern evoking the great outdoors. It's aesthetically austere, all white walls with no art, but it works as an overall aesthetic alongside the 'beer crate' design that flows through from the cafe.

The amenities: a large if plain mirror, domestic loo roll, non-commercial soap, paper towels for the hands; incense sticks.... The one flaw, from an aesthetic experiential point of view, is that the space also houses the baby-changing table, which disrupts the clean lines and minimalist design of the space. Otherwise, it's not bad at all, a nice accompaniment to a nice cafe.

the little cake kitchen

The little cake kitchen is another delightful bakery with just enough tables in its handkerchief-sized space to count as a cafe (though beware they don't have a permit for real coffee cups; there's no space for the necessary steriliser, apparently) and the all-important loo...

There's no two ways about it, this loo is all about functionality! You have the sense of being an interloper into a space not quite intended for you, if you venture here. Staff clothing and various other accoutrements vie for space with essential loo features. It's tiny and grimy; no fancy art or mirrors here... But there's something almost pure and honest that I like about it, even thought on my aesthetic criteria is lacks a certain something (well, to be a honest, a certain everything). That said, there is beauty to be seen, if you look for it.

And it does have natural light - of sorts. It does have domestic loo roll. It does have paper hand towels. It's otherwise small and cramped, and there's certainly no way a wheelchair could enter or exit... The basin is nice, an old domestic style, but it has two taps, dishing either cold or far-too-scalding-hot-for-me (but probably good if you're a bakery worker!) water. The soap's disguised in what looks more like a food-syrup dispenser, so I'm judging it pretty middle of the road.

So it's not exactly a top loo, not a reason to visit the little cake kitchen, but I perversely like it all the same. Thinking about why this is, since it really stretches the bounds, I think it's because they haven't made some half-arsed attempt to disguise the brute reality that this is a functional space one should enter and exit as quickly as possible, and get back to making (or eating) that damn fine ginger loaf!

Little and Friday

Little and Friday, nestled in suburban Takapuna (or possibly Belmont) is a delight, a bakery and cafe that makes quite possibly the best baked cafe goods you'll find in this fair city (you can find their baking in other cafes too, or you used to be able to). But before I get distracted thinking about their exceptional sausage rolls, tarts (savoury and sweet), cakelets and the rest, this isn't about the food... I only have myself to blame for that one!

Little and Friday has one loo, and what I particularly like about it is that it is accessed through the kitchen. This gives a curious (ok, nosy!) person like myself a perfect opportunity to pretend that my natural walking pace is about 1/2 a km per hour, and spend those precious micro-seconds checking it out! But once one can dawdle legitimately no longer, it's outside (beware if it's raining) and then inside again into the one (not-disabled) toilet...

Plain and colourful, it makes the most of what it is - a longish narrow space. The floor's red, the wooden-beer-crate bin bright yellow, the walls white. There's some natural light (yay), a retro mirror above the loo, and an all-important message written blackboard-styles above the mirror... Now I'm not that fussed about 'men put the toilet seat down' in my own personal space (though I recognise the arguments for it!), but in unisex publicly-shared loos like this, it's really only polite - as the owners have to astutely observed (and since they ask so nicely, how could you object) - just as it's only polite to leave it as clean and tidy as you found it.

The loo offers commercial loo roll (but not a rough and hard version thereof), nice domestic hand soap, and best of all, paper towels for hand drying. Hoorah. The sink, narrow with two taps, only offered me cold water despite my best attempts at turning the hot one on. On a hot summer's day, that didn't bother. It might in winter. Which makes me wonder if it'll turn into a little room of icy coldness on a winter's morning...

This loo comes across as an excellent example of the 'functional' style of loo, working with limited options, but adding that little extra that makes me smile. I'll be back!

Grouchos

Grouchos as a cafe serves delicious food at very reasonable prices, and caters well for the gluten-free crowd (though not so well for the vegans, as I discovered when I went with a vegan friend, assuming it would offer a good range of options!). But it's really the design, furnishing and objects that captivate me: retro styled in a way that can both grab your attention, or be comfortably ignored. This feature is also evident in their one unisex loo. It's relatively bare and minimalist, but the detail makes up for it: the loo roll holder (domestic product, yes!); a glorious light covering that dapples the room; a pair of German vases positioned 'just so' above the basin in the anteloo (as I'll call the pre-/post-loo space); a plant...

It's not perfect! There's no natural light, which always disappoints (how does that plant stay looking so healthy? perhaps they rotate it? perhaps it's fake? I didn't check!). The soap is a commercial product (but it is of the foam variety, so this sin is forgiven). However, want to dry your hands, and you're in luck - paper towels are provided. Hoorah for that.

As a disabled facility (nice and spacious!), the loo room proper features a small basin (one tap, adjustable heat!); but don't be tempted - go straight to the superior washing experience provided by the big rectangular basin in the anteloo. Again, a single, adjustable tap, and a big mirror to inspect your post-loo demeanor.

All in all, a very good loo experience; not one to fantasise about moving in to, but one that definitely invites a momentary dawdle...