The New ABP: Love It

The new Au Bon Pain is a lot like one of my grandmother’s Mrs. Doubtfire-style hugs—it’s hard to leave. Just like the forceful embrace of my grandmother—or a veral 40-year-old Robin Williams—ABP’s new facade doesn’t allow a quick escape. Instead, you have to march past the pastries and the coffee station and the salad bar and the register and the dining area before coming up for air. But I love it, and it loves me back.

People tell me I’m an independent person, and ABP approves. The new design allows me to create my own meals at the soup and salad bar and prepare my own Vanilla Roast at the expanded coffee station. I do what I want. Independence isn’t a burden, it’s a feature of the ABP experience.

In terms of ambience, the dining area has become remarkably more intimate. Opportunities to rub elbows with strangers abound. Just one left-handed person seated next to you is all it takes to turn brunch into a brawl. Who wouldn’t want the opportunity to adjust the nose of that enthusiastic kid in section, or to throw on your best Kiwi accent and swing like Russell Crowe?

The new design also does a pretty good job of turning away anyone who was part of the grab-and-go crowd. Nobody likes someone who eats and runs; those people can take their frosting-covered faces to Dunkin’ Donuts.

But in the end, it’s comforting to know that my fellow patrons and I are the illy to other establishments’ McCafe. It’s reassuring that the scruffy gentleman to my left and I share the same dedication to our sandwiches, and that he takes this meal as seriously as I do.