Jings Specialty Coffee sits quietly in USJ 4 like it knows it doesn’t need to prove itself. It’s the kind of place that doesn’t scream at you with neon signs or too many QR codes. Waiting to be stumbled upon like a well-kept secret your favorite cousin casually recommends.  

Not all cafes need to reinvent the wheel. When days start blending into one long to-do list, finding a spot like Jings feels like discovering an escape. With its soft, natural light filtering through warm interiors, and a vibe that asks nothing but lets you be. Jings isn’t just another cafe-it’s the kind of place where the staff remember your order without hovering and the atmosphere quietly pulls you in. It won’t beg for your camera, but somehow you’ll find yourself snapping a photo anyway because moments like this don’t come around often.

It’s hard to say what makes Jings work. Maybe it’s the faint smell of espresso and grilled salmon clinging to the counters. Maybe it’s the slightly too small tables, perfect for conversations that don’t need phones. Maybe it’s the espresso tiramisu. Or maybe it’s because it was started by a guy who fell for the intricate mechanics of coffee machines and decided to build something deliberately slower, steadier, and more human. 

Open for just over two years now, the cafe feels less like a business and more like a small act of rebellion against the burnout culture that surrounds us. They serve Japanese-inspired comfort food, the kind that reminds you how healing carbs can be. The Big Breakfast Onigiri is exactly what its name promises: excess wrapped in intention. Deeply caramelised, slightly sticky, and rich enough that you can still taste the smoke after a bite of rice. Next to it, the sake soboro, crumbled, seasoned salmon that brings salt and depth, without being fishy. The chuka hotate (marinated scallop) is cold, chewy, and slightly vinegared, adding a necessary texture break from all the warmth on the tray.

The udon? Slippery little noodles, soft and comforting, like they’re trying to apologize for the Monday that you know is coming but haven’t mentally prepared for yet. But there’s a hiccup somewhere. The chicken karaage could’ve been crispier. Instead, it gave a bit too much of that oily, heavy texture. It doesn’t ruin the dish, but it definitely made me question whether I’d chosen the right part of the plate to fall in love with. 

Then there’s the Japanese Curry Chicken Katsu Don – now this is where I believe the soul of the cafe sits. A thick slab of golden-breaded chicken katsu sits over rice, with a pool of Japanese curry edging its way around the bowl. The curry leans mild, slightly sweet, with starchiness from slow-simmered potatoes and carrots. There’s warmth, but no real kick or cling to the palate. The omelette, folded neatly below the chicken, is soft and creamy but noticeably rich, carrying a gentle cheese note that smooths over the rice well. It’s the sort of side that could sell out on its own. Together, they make a well paced dish, the one that leans into nostalgia without falling into blandess. At RM28, it lands in the higher range for a student wallet, but it earns its keep through portion and texture. 

But, then, the Kunsei Kamo Udon. Honestly, it looks beautiful, like it stepped right of a food styling magazine, with the delicate slices of smoked duck breast sitting on top of the udon. It’s generously portioned with just enough richness to linger on the plate without overwhelming the kitsune broth. It’s not overly salty, not too sweet, just clean, balanced, and soothing. Word is, this one’s a local favourite. Regulars tend to grab it as part of a set with a drink, which makes a lot of sense. Given the portion size and the quality, it’s a pretty solid deal. 

Drinks at Jings aren’t just menu fillers-they’re the quiet backbone of the cafe’s identity, each one engineered with intention. It’s where you realize halfway through your Charcoal Nut Latte that you’re actually enjoying the moment, not just caffeinating your way through it. The activated charcoal lends an earthy, smoky undertone that deepens the drink’s flavor without overpowering it, creating a smooth, velvety texture that coats your palate gently. For those who appreciate coffee with a twist but without gimmicks, this drink leaves a lasting impression. 

The Sunset Passion Soda lands on your table bright, fizzy, as a reminder that cafes can be fun without being fussy. Or maybe you opt for the Cocoa Mocha, and it’s exactly what you need after a long week: sweet, warm and just indulgent enough to make you forget your sorrows for a moment. 

Lastly, Of course, what’s a Gen Z cafe run without a matcha latte? Jings serves up a Green Matcha Latte in a world where matcha has become a global sensation and a social media darling for its vibrant green hue and wellness vibes. It’s a well crafted cup that nods to tradition while welcoming newcomers. 

But no meal at Jings really feels complete without the thing most people come for: The Espresso Tiramisu. At RM18, it sits as a price point that dares you to expect more and then delivers exactly that. There’s no rock-solid fridge bite, no awkward defrosted layers. This one, omg, surrenders immediately to the spoon. The mascarpone is aerated just enough to hold its shape but collapses into silk the second it hits your tongue. 

The espresso-soaked sponge carries a bold, nutty roast, clearly chosen with intention, not just whatever coffee was left over that morning. You can actually taste the espresso as an ingredient, not an afterthought. No cocoa dust avalanche. And yes, there’s no alcohol. None needed. It doesn’t rely on the crutch of liqueur to prove itself. Just a cold, elegant bite of something that recalibrates your day. And by the end, you’re not thinking about what to order next – you’re just thinking about when you’ll come back.

Atmosphere: ⭐⭐⭐⭐

Food: ⭐⭐⭐⭐

Drinks: ⭐⭐⭐⭐.5

Interior: ⭐⭐⭐.5

Service: ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

Article by Jananee Jagadeesan

Photos by Yong Jin Yi