Kristina Z.
Google
Manjul Coffee — a conflicting impression
Let’s start with the surroundings. The area around the cafe feels neglected — street corners cluttered with knock-off goods, sketchy characters, fake brands. It’s not the kind of place you’d want to wander through.
The contrast was striking. The entrance is thoughtfully designed — benches placed with care, the door and facade are impressive. Stepping inside feels like a surprise, especially after the chaos outside.
The cafe itself is a minimalist island in the middle of a retail space. Muted beige-yellow tones, concrete floors, wooden benches along the walls — everything soft and rounded. In the center, there’s a tree that looks like an olive — a symbol of peace? Sadly, it’s fake. A real one would’ve added soul.
Three staff members in black t-shirts stood behind the counter. It was Monday, around 4:00 pm — not prime time — and they seemed a little unsure of what to do with themselves, as there weren’t many customers.
The space is shared with a concept store that feels like a low-key version of UshaTava — white shirts with prints for $110, dresses starting at $300. The crowd: mostly Asian and Middle Eastern, with a certain tough-edged vibe that matched the store’s aesthetic.
What to order? I was told the matcha was good. In reality, it tasted like cold, pale green milk. Underwhelming. Nothing in the pastry case stood out either — turns out the baked goods come from an outside bakery. We went with a chocolate cookie, but the cashier accidentally charged for a croissant. I asked to switch it, and he did — but never corrected the price. The cookie was $1.50 cheaper, but the difference was never refunded. It seemed like no one even considered it an issue.
I asked to charge my phone — it had died completely, and I was afraid I’d lose touch with loved ones. I had my own cable, just needed an outlet. They told me all sockets were taken and there were no extras. “Look around,” they said. But all the seats with outlets were occupied.
And then — the worst part — the restroom. It was like walking into a sealed-off dog park soaked in urine. Maybe a plumbing issue. Maybe just a complete lack of cleaning. Either way, you couldn’t breathe in there.
If that’s the soul of this place, then something is clearly rotten inside.
Small things like these — the ones that seem unimportant — are exactly what shape the guest experience.
And unfortunately, there’s just no reason to come back.
