Anchor and Anvil Coffee Bar might be the only place in Pittsburgh (or the world) where you can drink a parking chair.
Any native knows that a parking chair is the chair you leave on the street to hold your parking space, especially in winter when you’ve dug your car out of the snow and would like to return it to that cleared rectangle.
In the late 1980s, a bunch of parking chairs were impounded in the borough of Dormont, and the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette published a photo of the impound lot, where residents could go, find and free theirs, for a fee. Earlier this year, a resident of Squirrel Hill got in a feud with his neighbors over his use of a parking chair. Apparently it is legal to use the chairs. It is also legal for others to move the chairs off the street.
A Parking Chair is one of several ‘Burgh-specific drinks at Anchor and Anvil. It’s “a creamy and slightly sweet cold drink with a healthy amount of espresso … tastes like melted espresso ice cream.” The Hard Hat is coffee and whole chocolate milk, cold or heated. The Smokestack Mocha—espresso, chocolate, smoked paprika salt and chipotle powder—”is all about keeping warm in the most frigid temps.” But the temps were hot when I learned about Anchor and Anvil, by word of mouth.
I moved to Pittsburgh two summers ago, and I walked a lot—to the business district up the street to the east, to the library around the corner, and up and down the residential streets, to see what I could see. A neighbor who spent mornings in his plastic chair in the shade of a large elm tree commented on it once when I was returning from a walk down our street to the west.
“How far did you go?” he asked. He walks, too, and he told me that when he goes that way, his turnaround point is the Ben Avon coffee shop. It’s a mile and a half, a nice three-mile round trip, he said. “With a loooong uphill on the way back,” I said.
My turnaround point had been about a quarter mile short. A few days later, I set out on foot with a book, notebook, pencil, ID and cash. That day, I chose an iced pomegranate tea. Since then, I’ve tried all of the green teas on the menu and many others, both with and without caffeine.
It’s probably my favorite of the coffee and tea places I’ve visited in Pittsburgh. They bake their own muffins and scones. The spinach and feta panini has gotten me through more than once when I needed a nosh. The building can be chilly in winter, but it rates high in the category of “good places to hang out and get work done.”
I’ve sat at the tables by the window (which offers a great view of the variety of dogs walking their people) and the tables by the wall, each with its own outlet. I’ve sat at the round counter with its retro avocado green swivel seats, and the living-room-like area in the middle of the room, with its ample sofa and chairs, and even the elevated area near a closed-up fireplace.
I’ve written and edited and met with clients there, attended an evening coffeehouse concert, borrowed books from the communal bookcase, and enjoyed overhearing the conversations of the wise older women in a knitting group that meets there.
What I have not yet done is been to Sconehenge, their annual all-the-scones-you-can-eat event during Britsburgh, a city-wide week-long celebration of British-American ties.
I recently stopped in on the way home from having my car inspected and my tires realigned. The planters flanking the door were spiffed up with Christmas greenery and gold bows. The portable chalkboard had an anchor and an anvil chalked in yellow and orange. A Hard Hat and the last gingerbread-Nutella scone provided fuel during some writing time. For an hour or so, I felt at home-away-from-home. And that purchase put me past the spend-$50-get-$5-free mark. How shall I spend it? On warm liquids for the first snow day, I think: soup and blood-orange tea.
Photo by Joel Müller, Creative Commons license via Flickr. Post by Laura Lynn Brown.
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Bethany R. says
So that’s what a parking chair is.
Bethany R. says
Love how you bring the reader right along with you. If I’m ever in Pittsburgh during Sconehenge, I’ll have to try the Hard Hat.
Laura Lynn Brown says
That is what I ordered (heated) on my most recent visit. It was so good that I drank it too quickly.
Katie says
Laura,
Sounds like my kind of shop: Pomegranate tea, Gingerbread Nutella Scone, and a communal bookcase:)
Katie
Megan Willome says
Sconehenge! That and a Smokestack sound pretty near perfect.
I love your tea pilgrimage, Laura.
L.L. Barkat says
Perfectly recounted. It’s a talent to do so, without the recollection seeming to just be a list. Yours? Never a list. Always a walk into some kind of wonderland.
Laura Lynn Brown says
Thank you, L.L.
Debra Hale Shelton says
I am not a coffee drinker, but any drink that includes smoked paprika salt and chipotle powder is worth a taste or more in my book.
Chicagoans outside the immediate downtown area use chairs to reserve their parking places in the winter as well.
I love your Tea Quest column. I hope there are many more.
Laura Lynn Brown says
I’ll probably run out of tea places at some point, but there are at least 10 more on my list.
Donna says
Melted espresso ice cream! OH! Yes please!
This was fun to read, and fun to learn how you found your now favorite spot for sipping coffee and tea in Pittsburgh.
My Musings says
I loved this place so much here’s what came out:
When are you coming back to Anchor & Anvil?
You will discover this place, rounding a bend
Cornering a hill, between Church and Dalzell
An unexpected surprise, a hidden jewel
A gathering place, a little respite, some renewal
A place is defined by the people inside
A generosity, a spirit, with nothing to hide
This feeling extends to the town beyond
A rich history, close families, Ben Avon
Birds come alive now, another long session
Singing loudly, in unison, a flying procession
People strolling by with greetings to you
A simple and rare thing these people do
Sounds in the background, at first from distance,
Growing louder now, repeating, insistent
Now fully formed, a familiar sound
Thumping and chugging and hissing along
Is this an in intrusion, you may implore
It’s part of the chorus, The Avonworth Score
Working the Anvil, it never loses count
Reshaping your mood and bringing you out
An uncanny experience, to the uninitiated
The longing identified, then slowly abated
Once you’ve experienced this wondrous place
And in need of a boost, or a friendly face
Or maybe it’s your heart that needs the refill
When are you coming back to Anchor and Anvil?
Laura Lynn Brown says
What a playful poetic response! Thanks for writing and sharing this. You must live in the North Boroughs.
My Musings says
I live in Sewickley. I just moved here so, don’t really know if that is North Boroughs. Close enough though.
I just started to put my thoughts and poems online on Medium.
https://medium.com/@viewbwl
Feedback is most welcome..