One of the advantages of shooting on Long Island was that the next day we were able to enjoy parts of New York. Since it was the last wedding, and I am seven months pregnant, I decided to bring an entourage that included a chauffeur, second shooter and a Canadian teamster (as we later dubbed him during the trip). It was a “the more the merrier” type situation and a good choice all around. We talked over the course of the trip about hipsters and what makes someone one, the perfect cappuccino, the probability that they were in fact filming something outside our hotel room, and what kind of wolf pack we were.

While Matt and Spencer were instagramming drinks with fancy milk ferns on Friday Jake and I were hard at work photographing the wedding. We joined them on their quest to find the perfect espresso on Saturday and in total they sampled coffee from 7 different shops, including:

Cafe Grumpy  |  Blue Bottle  |  Stumptown  | Culture Espresso  | Manhattan Espresso  | Brooklyn Roasters (at the flea)  |  Laughing Man

Perhaps it was because it was our last stop, or since the shop was so quaint, or the fact that the co-partner started a conversation with us and later referred to us as “her friends from Rochester” when we walk by later… but Laughing Man was my favorite. I had a flat white there and it was perfect. Matt’s experience ended in a tie with the flat white from Laughing Man equaling the Cortado from Culture. Spencer ranks his first drink, an americano from Grumpy’s as the best, with the flat white a close second… and Jake agrees, listing the cappuccino from Grumpy’s as his favorite.

In between getting everyone as caffeinated as possible (except me) we walked around the Brooklyn Flea, went across the Brooklyn Bridge to spend a little time walking the highline, explored a few shops near by including a Warby Parker pop-up, and finally headed to dinner over at Spice Market. It was after the highline and during Warby Parker that I realized I could not make any more decisions. Much like a bride a week before the wedding, I didn’t want to choose where we were eating, think about where to go next, or even spend more time walking around while we made those decisions. I’ll chalk that one up to pregnancy. Thankfully the night did end with a delicious meal and we hopped in the car to drive several hours back as Spencer told tales of tree planting in Canada and the duct taped hands and depression that ensues. Soon we were in our little slice of country, far removed from the bustling city, and we were home.