A curious end

The demise and second coming of Curious Liquids

by Dorie Clark

END OF AN ERA: "Everyone in Boston is in such a hurry. But when you came in here, everyone was happy."

The rusted yellow scaffolding and orange mesh went up around Curious Liquids three weeks ago. Jackhammers punctuated afternoon coffee breaks. The café's heroic 7 a.m.-to-2 a.m. schedule was scaled back for staff parties -- the denouement for a coffee shop twice deemed the city's best by the Boston Phoenix, and which will close for good tomorrow.

It's not for lack of popularity. Located on Beacon Hill at the foot of the State House, Curious Liquids is usually packed. "The success we've had probably comes from our innocence and naïveté going into this," muses owner Patrick Lockley, who decided to open "Curious" (as staffer shorthand has it) three years ago after a stint in the computer industry. "We didn't know how to make a slick coffee house, so what we came up with probably had more appeal to customers than a corporate environment."

Indeed, Curious derived much of its cult appeal from its spooky-yet-comfortable Victorian clutter, which suggested a Clue board come to life. The building once served as General Lafayette's headquarters, and such details as the brick study nooks date from the early 19th century. The stuffing's coming out of the sofas and armchairs. There is a haphazard library and a few old, dark apothecary bottles in the "Red Room" downstairs, and its sister chamber -- painted completely in metallic silver -- has tabletops covered with laminated Edward Gorey cartoons.

But Curious is also notable for its casual atmosphere. Lockley has been known to give his starving-artist employees advances on their paychecks. Staffers socialize extensively outside of work. They bring in their own music to pipe to the customers. "[Music] is a constant battle," says general manager and aspiring actor James Angelo with a laugh. "That's what you get when you mix a hippie, a college student, and a fag on the same shift."

Curious has never been perfect, but perfection isn't the point. One day last fall I ordered a sandwich for lunch, and in the throng of orders, mine got lost. When I inquired after its fate 45 minutes later, the pudgy, goateed clerk was so apologetic, so mortified the staff had forgotten my order, that we became "friends" in that city-retail sort of way, where you never know the person's name but ever after enjoy charming repartee. Another time, I ordered lunch and a drink and realized upon pulling out my wallet that I was a dollar short. "Can you cancel the drink?" I asked. The man at the register simply plucked a bill from the tip jar and told me not to worry about it.

Curious's way of doing business won it an eclectic fan base. Its customers are "an odd mix of teenage anxiety, legislators, and bankers," as one regular describes it. State Representative Kathi Reinstein (D-Revere) frequently met with constituents and fellow legislators at Curious. The gay youth group BAGLY streamed in after club meetings on Wednesday nights, and parishioners from the evangelical Park Street Church came by for their Sunday caffeine fixes. Justina French, a newly minted Suffolk University alumna, raced up from the FleetCenter immediately after her graduation ceremony last Sunday in search of what might have been her last cup of Earl Grey from Curious. "Every morning I came here for my tea," she said. "I became really great friends with the people who worked here. [Now] it's like they're dead."

Last August, the building that houses the café was sold to the Brooke-Petit Group, owned by former US senator Edward Brooke and his daughter. They are renovating the upstairs to create housing units, and their plans for street level do not include Curious Liquids. Owner Lockley is moving to New York to explore other interests, but he intends for a piece of his creation to live on. He has sold the Curious Liquid name, menu, and furniture to the Bagel Plus Café, a nondescript -- but independently owned -- outfit a block away on Tremont Street. The proprietor, Abraham Abraham, plans to integrate a bit of Curious into the upstairs décor, and to consecrate the currently unused basement a Curious Liquids-in-exile. Curious's general manager will be staying on board through the summer to ease the transition. Perhaps the new arrangement can sustain the type of atmosphere Justina French noticed at Curious: "Everyone in Boston is in such a hurry. But when you came in here, everyone was happy." Or maybe -- given that the wooden wall paneling in the Bagel Plus basement is more evocative of Mike Brady than General Lafayette -- it can't. Either way, all is changed, changed utterly. A curious bagel is born.