Brookland Coffee sits inside a creative complex in South Jakarta, but on a Saturday morning the first thing you notice isn’t the building. It’s the crowd. Outside, where cars might park, long benches, fiberboard blocks, and stools are packed with cyclists. The bike rack is heavy with frames, helmets slung from handlebars, and every seat is taken by young men in every imaginable cyclist get up: long sleeves, short shorts, flat shoes, cycling caps. It feels more like a clubhouse than a café.
Step inside and the air shifts. The interior space is air-conditioned, designed for a slower pace. Women and small groups fill the tables, a couple with laptops plugged in, conversation moving quietly. Near the bar, seating is tighter but every spot is full. The walls carry illustrations of all sorts, surrounded by a clutter of merch, mostly nylon foldable tote bags in a streetwear style. It’s casual but intentional, part of the café’s personality rather than a curated gallery statement.
Brookland’s coffee program matches the vibe. Two grinders sit on the counter. The first, a Mazzer Robur, works with a house blend: sixty percent Brazilian natural coffee and forty percent local coffee from neighboring Java. The second, an Anfim Super Caimano, holds beans from the Java Frinsa Collective, a single-origin mix of washed and wet-hulled coffees. Both spotlight Indonesian coffee with pride that runs deep across the city.
That morning I lingered and wandered the corridors of the complex that sits behind the cafe, past a specialty blank t-shirt store where they weave and cut their own fabrics, and another boutique selling homeware and lifestyle items steeped in street culture—cups, incense holders, independently published books. Returning to Brookland, my coffee was waiting, the space buzzing around me. It didn’t feel like a pit stop. It felt like a hub.
I ordered a cortado. The foam integrated the espresso perfectly, balancing nutty, honeyed notes that rounded into a toffee-like sweetness.
Brookland serves more than coffee, and I ordered a rice meal for breakfast: fried chicken tossed in sauce with scrambled egg over rice. The portion was generous, hearty, and satisfying—diner-style comfort food, straightforward and filling.
Between the cyclists outside, the art on the walls, the depth of the coffee program, and the surrounding shops, I realized what made Brookland stand out. It wasn’t only the drinks or the space, though both were excellent. It was the culture gathered here: the intersection of bikes, streetwear, coffee, and creativity. For someone who has spent years moving through those parallel worlds in different countries, it felt familiar. In the middle of Jakarta, I had found my people.
