On Cabot Street in Beverly, Massachusetts, there is a bespoke coffee establishment called Atomic Cafe. For decades, I have esteemed it to be an archetype of cafes. The place occupies a mythic place in my memory as a key fixture of my North Shore Chapter and an expression of the ideal public spot for coffee, ambiance, and immersion.
I first experienced Atomic Cafe in the fall semester of my freshman year at Gordon College. I went there with some friends one night and discovered a classic hole in the wall where baristas serve espresso coffee drinks, soup, pressed sandwiches, and assorted pastries. It was my first encounter with such a place. Atomic, as we called it, had its own quirky and endearing DNA. Brushed metal tables and chair, some positioned against the large bay window overlooking the sidewalk, and, further in, booths clad in red sparkle vinyl with Formica tabletops. Lastly there was a bar with four stools at which to read and sip on a macchiato or cappuccino.
Atomic Cafe became one of those spots that called me when I wanted to get out and immerse myself in relaxed urbanity, energy, and a sense of connection. While a student at Gordon, I went there a handful of times, but my friends and I tended to go to Barnes and Noble much more often. It was later, after I graduated from Gordon in 2003 and settled on the North Shore, specifically in Ipswich, that Atomic Cafe really grew in importance and value to me.
Ipswich was just under a half hour drive from Beverly. The sleepy historic town had its own cafe called Zumi's, but it just didn't have the scene and busy ambiance that Atomic Cafe possessed. Atomic's location in vibrant downtown Beverly, on the other hand, was perfect. Being an introvert, Atomic gave me an ambient sense of community as a place where I could get out and be among people without necessarily interacting with them. I could spend several hours people watching, reading books, even sketching - all while being exposed to an endless parade of indie music that was the Atomic Soundtrack. It was at Atomic that I discovered the Flaming Lips in 2005 when their hit album Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots was putting the band on the map. I wore that album out over the next year. I have Atomic to thank for that discovery.
When I went to Atomic, I would typically get a mocha latte or a chai mocha latte. These were served in large squat mugs on saucers with the nice touch of a dark chocolate bar rested across the rim. If I was hungry and it was in the middle of the day, I would order my favorite hot sandwich - a pressed number they called a turkey cordon bleu. Ham, turkey, Swiss cheese, mustard on rye bread. You couldn't go wrong.
It was at Atomic that I ran into my friend and fellow musician Erin and discovered he had also settled in Ipswich - a few streets over from me. He and I met up a number of times at Atomic Cafe. Our friendship wasn't the kind where we would hang out frequently but when we did hang out, it was always a meaningful time. I first met Erin at Gordon when I was in the chapel band with me playing bass and him playing electric guitar. We headed off and then drifted apart during the last year or two of my time at Gordon until that afternoon when we got reacquainted at Atomic. It was also at the Cafe that he informed me he had joined the post-rock band Caspian and would be touring overseas.
Later in 2006 when I landed my first IT job at the Cummings Center in Beverly, I spent the lunch break on my first day at Atomic, which was just a five minute drive away. That was a stand-out moment on a crisp autumn October day. I got a coffee, sat outside at one of the sidewalk tables, lit up a cigarillo, and thanked my lucky stars for landing such a “one-in-a-million” job. My self-designed North Shore life was coming together beautifully.
Much later in 2016 after living on the South Shore for five years, I visited Beverly while working as a full-time rideshare driver and discovered that Atomic Cafe had moved across the street, rebuilt and reconceived from scratch. Gone were the red sparkle vinyl booths and bar stools. Gone was the quirky hole-in-the-hole vibe. The new Atomic Cafe was all hardwood floors, exposed brick walls, with a three-sided serving bar in the center of the space. It was more expansive, more urban chic - an updated purpose-designed incarnation. It was beautiful - an absolute gem of a cafe, but no matter how great it was, it was not the Atomic Cafe of my memories from the 2000s. When I think of Atomic Cafe, it will always be that version.
