By: Tianyou Lee, Staff Writer

There’s this concept I recently came across that I found quite interesting: the third place, spaces meant for social interaction and community outside home and work spheres. Public hangout spots, essentially, with a low barrier to entry, aimed at relaxation and connection rather than labor. And among the varying options for what a third place could look like—libraries, gyms, bookstores, etc.—one that appealed to me in particular was the cafe. In my head, I had a picturesque image of what one would look like: a small, cozy atmosphere; ambient background music; sips from a warm drink in hand; lighthearted conversation and laughter with friends.

I’d never been to a cafe, if you couldn’t tell from that description. In my day-to-day life, I rarely ever deviate from the seesaw of home-to-school and school-to-home. Usually, I finish my schoolwork at Mills, stay to work on club activities, and go home to do more homework. Rinse, repeat. I do take breaks—once my motivation’s been drained to the point I can barely look at another assignment—but often in solitude, endlessly scrolling the internet until the guilt from the lack of productivity forces me to continue working. 

If I had a third place I could claim as my own, maybe I’d be better off for it.

But when I first encountered the idea of third places, there was something else attached to it: their gradual disappearance. Especially during and after the pandemic, public, communal spaces have been on the decline, businesses acting as them unable to stay afloat amidst economic pressures. Constant work and efficiency is a must. Social media has redefined relationships without the need for face-to-face interaction. To-go culture and its associated interior design (see: most boba shops) disincentivize staying at the actual location. At the end of all of this is a loneliness epidemic in America, if you’d trust the word of U.S. Surgeon General Dr. Vivek Murthy.

Part of Murthy’s strategy to combat this is to bring back social infrastructure, including “physical elements” which, in my view, resemble the purpose of third places. I wasn’t sure how much I could help with that, though; I’ll leave that up to him. What I could do was search for the remaining third places in our community to at least help myself—and hopefully anyone else looking.

With two of my friends, Naia Germain (11) and Thunderbolt News Editor Amelia Naughten (11), I stopped by three cafes in Burlingame to assess how valuable they would be as third places, or if they’ve adapted to our changing surroundings to discourage that very culture. Here’s what I found:

Cafe 1: Caffé Central

After school on Nov. 20, Naia drove us down to Burlingame Avenue, rain pelting the windshields, to stop by our first cafe: Caffé Central. 

From just walking in, there was already a clear cafe energy to the place. Its furniture was accented by warm wood tones; handwritten signs labeled the tarts, loafs, and pastries in the display case. It had plenty of seating and tables inside as well, most of which were filled with people typing on laptops or casually chatting.

At the counter, Amelia ordered a lemon poppyseed loaf, while Naia and I both got central lattes. The worker handed Amelia her order then and there, and we sat down at a four-seater table nearby. A few minutes later, Naia and I were served our coffee, topped with latte art and situated inside ceramic cups.

The drink was good, the perfect warm temperature for the rainy weather outside. We talked for a while as we finished up, ambient music and coffee machine sounds in the background. Naia noticed the drip coffee setup behind us on the counter; it added a nice personalized, self-made touch.

We probably stayed longer than we needed to. It was easy to relax there, especially with other strangers present doing the same.

Cafe 2: Maison Alyzée

Next, we headed down the street to Maison Alyzée, a French cafe and bakery. Already, it was clearly distinct from Caffé Central. It felt fancier, with white wainscot walls, marble countertops, and decorative black-and-white floor tiles creating a more refined atmosphere. But it also kept certain aspects of homeliness: a chalkboard drink menu, written in cursive, was hung behind the counter, and the tables were still a pleasant oak.

Also similar to Caffé Central, the location was bustling, maybe even more so. We actually put in our order as to-go, seeing that all the tables were full. Luckily, one opened up afterwards, so we were able to sit down and enjoy ourselves.

We all shared one chocolate croissant together. At Amelia’s warning, I got the hot chocolate, which—as she told me—was literally melted chocolate in a cup. It was . . . a bit too decadent for me. 

We stayed for less time than at Caffé Central. Unable to finish it there, I took the hot chocolate with me as we left. (In the end, I was only able to drink around half.)

Cafe 3: Philz Coffee

For our final location, we went to a cafe chain to see how it’d compare: Philz Coffee. It was undeniably the smallest out of the three, with only a sofa, a few tables inside, and oddly some chairless ones outside in the front. And with about three or four customers other than us present, it was also the emptiest.

But despite being the only chain we visited, it had a rustic vibe to it, maybe partially because of its size. Its ceiling was partially made up of exposed wood beams, and one of its walls was some sort of gray stone. There were only two employees working the counter when we came in, both of whom were nice and casual. 

We ordered a salted chocolate chip cookie to share. Both in to-go cups, Amelia also got a hot chocolate, while Naia had fresh chai (which, according to her, wasn’t very chai-like at all). We sat on the couch together for a moment to finish eating the cookie; I found myself looking at the wall art behind us in the meantime, which featured Fantasia Mickey, Batman, the Joker, and Michael Myers. An interesting, if not odd, combination.

I found the more quiet environment different from the other two, but also somewhat of a comfort. When we left, I looked back at Philz Coffee—and all the other cafes—fondly.

Closing Thoughts?

All three of the cafes had something valuable to offer. Caffé Central was the standard cafe in my mind, and its warm atmosphere was an easy comfort. Maison Alyzée felt more elegant but not inaccessible, and it clearly had a dedicated consumer base of its own. Philz Coffee, while moreso catering to to-go culture, still had a relaxing, chill energy inside.

Spending the afternoon doing all this was . . . nice, enjoyable. I found myself genuinely relaxing and having a good time, surrounded by good friends and good food. Having some time away from school and home was a refreshing experience; exploring these cafes felt like a kind of discovery. Part of me now wonders why I don’t take these sorts of outings more often, why I’d rather bathe in internet rot alone at my house when I need a break. Maybe it has to do with routine; no one likes change.

I’m sure there’s similar cafes outside these three, both in Burlingame and Millbrae, alongside other types of hangout spots. I still don’t doubt the reporting about the disappearance of third places; that may be more prevalent in corporate chains like Philz Coffee. Regardless, there are pockets like Caffé Central and Maison Alyzée where third places are thriving in their own right. All you have to do is look—but maybe that’s the hardest part.

As for me, I think I’ll make more of an effort to spend my time at third places, maybe something with the environment of Caffé Central. I do think it will take some active decisions on my part to not instantly default to heading home every day, but it’ll be worth it, in my view. I’ll be better off for it.