“My desert island, top five…”
December 28, 2010
Being the coffee shop junkie/loiterer/aficionado that I am, I’m way overdue for one of these silly lists. The nice part was that it was actually pretty easy. Before delving in, it’s important to consider that I’m not a coffee connoisseur. My list speaks more to aesthetics and overall experience than the actual quality of your cup o’ joe. Secondly, I’m biased toward places that break the mold. There are dozens of great coffee crashes all over Portland, but I give precedence to the places that have something more to offer than the standard. There are too many coffee shops in this area that seem to be all cut from the same mold, as if Stumptown were making mandatory design stipulations for the retailers that brew their coffee. My list honors those that serve up an experience going beyond caffeine and pastries. What else you got?
Anyways, *ahem*. Should you find yourself in Portland, my top five recommendations for places to hang out and drink coffee are as follows:
5. Southeast Grind (1223 SE Powell blvd)
I’ve talked about them before, and I really don’t have to say much beyond “they’re Portland’s only 24 hour coffee shop” to justify their inclusion. They’re double-espresso only, so they certainly take themselves seriously. They’ve also got plenty of seating (couch, table, or stool) and some pretty hip old-school PCs with behemoth monitors. You’d think that Portland would have more 24-hour coffee shops, but if they’re drinking coffee at midnight, then they’re not drinking microbrew, and we certainly can’t have that. If only they sold books, then they’d be higher on this list than…
4. The Fresh Pot (3729 SE Hawthorne blvd)
Now, before you say it: Yes, you could always go to the ginormous Powell’s in downtown PDX with the ginormous cafe inside of it. Well, you know what? If I want a copy of the UK special box set of The Gum Thief, I’ll drive downtown to that book metropolis and get it (which I did). In the meantime, I’ll relish the cuisine (like, donuts, or something), comfort (wooden furniture), and caffeine found at the Fresh Pot. Being conjoined to mini-Powell’s Books, it can be hard to find a seat in the cafe, and I’m sure it hasn’t gotten any easier with the opening of the New Seasons market nearby, but it’s one of the more complete cafe experiences you can ask for. It’s also open late (10pm Mon-Thurs, 11pm Fri & Sat, 9pm Sun), and, as I’ve already mentioned, that’s rare around here. Whenever I go there, however, I really wish I was at…
3. Guapo Comics and Coffee (6350 SE Foster Road)
Take the best elements of Fresh Pot on Hawthorne (graphic novel section of the bookstore and a coffee shop), multiply the comics by 10, subtract the sweet location, add some rockin’ interior decorating, and you get Guapo. Yes, I’m biased because it is essentially a comic shop and a coffee shop that have been in a transporter accident. The nice thing is, it does both well, with a good selection of comics and respectable menu options for coffee and food–which actually includes dinner-ish options. The bad thing is, you’ve got to sojourn all the way to Southeast Portland to get there. I ain’t complainin’, but I regret that I don’t get there as often as I get to…
2. Elevated Coffee (5261 NE MLK Jr. Blvd.)
The waffles are great, the service is great, the coffee is great, and the interior is gorgeous. Computers for the laptop challenged and a white baby grand piano for the musically inclined. Lot’s of options, but the Honey Latte is especially tasty. It’s location also makes it easy for me to drop into. MLK blvd. is a slower alternative to I-5, but at rush hour it’s actually preferred. On top of it all, you might even catch some live music on the weekend. In fact, the place is so great I’m surprised I didn’t find it in…
Located due north of Portland, on the other side of the Columbia River “fence” lies Portland’s wacky neighbor, ‘da Couve. Compass Coffee, Java House, Mon Ami, Paper Tiger, Rosemary Cafe, and even that Starbucks that stays open until 9:30 basically make it worth never heading south across the I-5 bridge again. Vancouver’s also got less traffic, a half dozen art galleries, an underground arts community, and even it’s own local satire column. Yes, I’m a curmudgeon for Washington and I live in the ‘Couve. Represent, yo.
Roomba: the anti-cat.
December 20, 2010
Despite having full knowledge of the dangers of each, I have for years wanted both cat and a Roomba vacuming robot, for very different reasons. In the last year I had the opportunity to cat-sit for a couple months, and recently received a Roomba as a gift. Having now lived with each of the two creatures (but not both, sadly), I can resolutely call the Roomba vacuming robot the antithesis of nearly everything that is a cat–for better or worse.
|
 Roomba
|
 Cat
|
| When it needs something, it does nothing. | When it needs something, it makes sure I focus on nothing else. |
| Charmingly subordinate | Charmingly insubordinate. |
| Feels horrible on my lap. | Feels comfy on my lap. |
| Resolutely avoids places it can’t easily get to. | Resolutely invades places it can’t easily get to. |
| Particularly adept at cleaning messes. | Particularly adept at making messes. |
| Obsessively cleans everything but itself. | Obsessively cleans only itself. |
| Cleans all of it’s owners’ dirt. | Treats its owners like dirt. |
| Smacks into walls until it runs out of batteries. | Prowls silently and patiently until it gets bored. |
| Has no hair, and removes it from everywhere. | Covered in hair, and leaves it everywhere. |
| If it were just a bit smarter, it would be the ultimate household slave. | If it were just a bit smarter, it would probably kill and eat me. |
If only I could combine them into one thing…wait, that’s probably not a good idea.
“I don’t know if it’s a word, but it’s a virtue.”
November 24, 2010
I came across Lake Superior State University’s 2010 List of Banished Words not too long ago. It intrigued me, since I had no idea there was a such thing as Lake Superior State University. The annual list itself largely consists of words that have either been overused to the point of meaninglessness (friend as a verb, stimulus, transparency) and words that never should have been used in the first place (bromance, sexting, chillaxin). Predictably, the vast majority of the grammatical rape can largely be attributed to teenagers, politicians, and social media.
While I love geek humor as much as the next guy (who happens to be a geek humorist), there’s the issue of more vital words that are actually going the way of the dodo. After being playfully teased yesterday by a student employee regarding my “tiny” 8oz. coffee, I rhetorically threw out whether she knew the meaning of temperance. After receiving a baffled look and a simple “no,” I extended the question to the other student employees, garnering the following responses:
“Is that smaller than 12oz?”
“I’ll ask my friend, she’s a barista.”
“Is that a type of Chinese food?”
Of course, after sharing the definition, I got another response:
“Ah, it’s that thing we never use.”
In a futile attempt to re-integrate temperance into society, I’d like to propose that the 8oz. “short” size at Starbucks be renamed “temepered.” It probably wouldn’t fly, but not because people don’t know what it means; no one seems to know what Vente (“twenty”) means either. It just doesn’t have a ring to it. “Restraint” is a bit more familiar, but it isn’t as much a quantifier as it is a modifier. A “restraint latte” sounds low-fat and “latte with restraint” just sounds like decaf.
Yes, I realize I should be concerned that the millennial generation literally does not know the meaning of temperance. Believe me, I am. The thing is, I don’t need the verbal section of the SAT to prove that. The gross over-abundance of social diarrhea on Facebook and Twitter feeds effectively demonstrates that self restraint is being bred out of our species. The real lesson is that words are not “banished” through any definite action, but are simply left behind.
A list of those words, for various reasons, wouldn’t be very funny though.
Re: Oh, Chiiiiiiiiiinada. Oh, Chiiiiiiiiinada.
November 2, 2010
I still occasionally mine material from my old blog, and I wish I’d caught this one in June. Two years ago, I reported on Igor Panarin‘s prediction that America would split like Captain Planet in June 2010. While Panarin may have nailed the economic disaster part, the great division was not meant to be. Man, just when I thought things were going to get interesting around here. I was really hoping to be part of Canada by now.
Anyways, here’s the original post from December 30, 2008:
I’ve been saying it for a while now, and it turns out that Igor Panarin, a respected Russian academic, agrees with my prediction that the United States will economically collapse and split into separate countries in the next few years. Granted, his vision includes a more specific date (by June 2010), a few less states than mine did (Panarin predicts four states, I predict at least six), and his alignment of the states is a bit different than I imagined (“The Californian Republic?” Oh please. Northwesterners will join Canada before they sign on with the California/China crazy train), the result is essentially the same. War and/or invasion will not do us in, it will be an economic collapse.
Keep in mind that this is the same guy who predicted the fall of the Soviet Union 15 years before it happened. As much as I’d like to snuggle closer to my prediction, this guy is a former KGB analyst and dean of the Russian Foreign Ministry’s academy for future diplomats, while I have a master’s degree in music history. I’d better start practicing ordering coffee in Mandarin Chinese.
Then again, if the U.S. decides to go ahead with my “treat the legislative branch of the government like jury duty” plan, we might just be saved. I’m eagerly awaitng the day when I have to say, “Aw, I’d like to go on vacation next summer, but I just got summoned for Congress. I might be available in two to four years.”
“They do say debt is an asset.”
Quote of the Day: The Netherlands
October 26, 2010
I recently came across an old file I’d saved of quotes that randomly came up in my graduate school GA office. I’m not sure what was going on in there, but some fascinating material sure came out of it. One particular gem:
The Netherlands is pretty cool. They may have taken it a step too far with the whole legalizing heroin thing, but that’s one of the risks you take with being cool.
Thanks for that one, Dan.
“Today, on Thatcher’s Coffee…”
October 12, 2010
The soundstage where Thatcher's Coffee is filmed. I'm in the studio audience.
Kudos to Thatcher’s Coffee who followed up the unspectacular chai from my first visit with a vanilla honey soy latte (hint: light syrup) that rocked my socks so hard I was able to look past the fact that the place made me feel like I was being served from a Bed, Bath, and Beyond gift registry. Even their chalkboard menu was pristine. For all the jars, mugs, cookbooks, cookie-alchemy machines, and such, I would have expected to see a larger display of baked goods. Also in spite of the cubic half-acre of space Thatcher’s gives its customers, it still seemed as if the employees had sufficient space for a raquetball court behind the counter.
Can a coffee shop be too nice looking? All I can say is if Thatcher’s were a person, it would be better looking than its employees (who are all reasonably handsome people) and patrons (or, at least me). That doesn’t seem like it should matter, but the polish of their interior design leaves me walking away wanting more. Martha Stewart should be making me lemon bars and pacifying me with her soothing voice. Rachel Ray should be ringing up my order with that insane grin of hers. Giada de Laurentis should be measuring espresso shots as I’m hypnotized by her gratuitously excessive face size.
I’m not sure what I’m talking about anymore. So here’s Martha Stewart and Conan O’Brien in Thatcher’s Coffee.
“If you really think about it…”
October 8, 2010
Is anyone else surprised that white plastic lawn chairs have survived consumer product natural selection as long as they have?
In the last couple weeks I’ve visited two coffee crashes that were among the first I landed in when I first moved to this area. Compass Coffee on Main St. in Vancouver and Common Grounds on Hawthorne in Portland both casually and humbly occupy their spaces only blocks away from their higher-traffic neighbors (Mon Ami and The Fresh Pot, respectively). Both are reliable and comfy, with no fuss and all the essentials. They are well-dressed coffee-drinking spaces with tables, chairs, board games, wi-fi (duh), and a great selection.
What’s funny is while I visited these spaces several weeks ago, I didn’t really think of them until I found myself sipping chai drink on a late evening in Starbucks. I wanted so badly to be anyplace than this generic coffee pit. That then got me thinking: how could I love Compass Coffee and Common Grounds for really looking like coffee shops while bemoaning every Starbucks, Tully’s and Peet’s for looking the same?
Easy. (Hint: skip to the last sentence of this post. You really don’t want to read this.)
I have a picture of the Common Grounds interior, but my shoulder is in it.
In my experience, art consistently follows one rule:
Art establishes an expectation, and creates conflict by either going with or against that expectation.
Good art follows an additional rule:
A work of art presents a series of elements which must, in the end, find a balance to create satisfaction.
Whether it’s charcoal paintings, an independent film, a break dance routine, a haiku, a lego sculpture, or a classical symphony, all are essentially (and subjectively) judged by these standards. It’s what keeps art interesting, it’s what keeps life interesting, and it’s what keeps me searching for new coffee shops and bookstores.
More Compass. I know I'm being unfair to Common Grounds, but seriously, my shoulder is in the other picture.
I can count on walking into a Starbucks in Portland, San Francisco, Seattle, Toledo, New York, and North Carolina and ending up in the exact same place getting served the exact same drink with the exact same options with the exact same ingredients. There’s nothing wrong with that. It’s that same notion that allows us to continually enjoy pop music, and sitcoms, and breakfast cereal. Unfortunately, while there may be balance in consistency, there’s none in predictability.
It’s like hearing a new artist cover a song you’ve heard a hundred times before. It gives you something you’ve experienced countless times before, for the first time. Of course, isn’t visiting the same indie shop ten dozen times the same as visiting the same Starbucks ten dozen times? No. I go to Compass Coffee, and I know that I’m at 304 Main Street, Vancouver, WA. I drop in Common Grounds Coffeehouse and I know I’m on Hawthorne boulevard. I go to Starbucks, or McDonald’s, or Target, or Best Buy, and I’m in all of them from Seattle to St. Petersburg. I’m everywhere, but more accurately nowhere.
In short: Vancouver needs another coffee shop that stays open until 9:30pm.
Take that, SkyNet.
September 28, 2010
Sweet Cream Cafe: No Robots Allowed
If you recall, a few weeks back I gave Starbucks a vicious tongue-lashing for having the gall to offer-free internet when they’ve been ballsy enough to make folks pay for it for years. Only days ago I came across an establishment that can claim to be even ballsier than Starbucks once was.
Now, let it be known that I’ve never actually purchased any food or drink from Sweet Cream Café. I saw the cute little no computers decal on the door and realized that not only would I be unable to check my email, but I couldn’t even remove my computer from its bag. I stepped in and double checked with the owner who kindly but sternly echoed the sentiment on the door. “No computers.” I sheepishly placed a hand over my computer bag, backed out of the door and muttered something about a phone call. One thought and one thought only immediately came to mind:
Awesome. Just plain awesome.
I did not for a second (Okay, okay. That’s a lie. I did for about two seconds) think ill of the establishment for banning my most beloved non-wife companion from their place of business. After all, this is a place for food, drink, chattin, and chillaxin’. None of that millennial twitterin’ or myspacin’ , or facebookin’ or whatever other porn-related nonsense goes on in that decadent digital world. If you want to be welcome in the Sweet Cream Café, you must be a peripheral-free human. No add-ons.
Our world doesn’t need more spineless corporate giants disgracing themselves by handing out free internet as if to say, “We’re not so bad. Here’s some internet!” With one sticker on the door, Sweet Cream Café says, “Internet? You don’t even bring your computer in here, let alone the internet.”
Go to Sweet Cream Café, order some food (but not coffee, because the web reviews haven’t been good on that front), and…um…read a book or something.
But he’s only trying to sell you insurance!
September 3, 2010
I always assumed there would be nothing more absurd than my childhood fear of northwest furniture pitchman Jack Roberts. My cousins took advantage of my being absolutely terrified of the Stephen King movie IT (which I’d never seen) by convincing me that all clowns–as well as anyone else who received a pie to the face–turned into monsters. Since childhood my irrational fear of furniture salesman has fallen away only to replaced by a perplexing aversion to being naked in front of animals. For that reason I sympathize with those affected by this tragic “ad placement fail.” Personally, I’m okay with the duck watching me–as long as I’m not naked, of course.
He can see you...
Thank you to Fail-blog for the image.
Extroverted Introversion Mailbag #1
January 4, 2011
Now we all know how much I love the collaborative web, and what’s the collaborative web without collaboration? Since a certain post on this blog is both responsible for the vast majority of my web traffic, and has inspired an overwhelming six comments over a mere 14 month span, I feel inclined to respond to my loyal readers. If you haven’t read the infamous “I’d like a cappuccino with tits, please. Wait, let me start over…” post, take a moment to review before we address the readers, who I’m sure have been checking back furiously for months to see their comments addressed. Now, I’m a bit new to this, so we’ll see how this goes.
*ahem*
Okay, let’s start with “Kali,” our first responder who thanks me for my insight.
Your welcome, Kali. Clearly, my spectacular fashion instinct would make me a capable bikiniista, provided I were female, of course.
“Kevin R.” gives us the men’s perspective on the bikini coffee phenomenon:
“Butts hanging out?” Definitely a red flag, since no rear end should “hang.” I think I see where you’re going with this though: you’re okay with the stripping, but they just need to improve their coffee and do pilates. Got it.
“Elizabeth” had some fascinating observations and constructive criticism to offer. I’ll take the time to address several points:
Hey now, bikini coffee can’t be that bad. We’re talking about a business that has taken off in Lakewood, Washington, a fine city which was once a part of an even finer city.
“More than a cup of coffee?” This is true. Most coffee booths are espresso only, and I would not recommend espresso to children.
Clearly the girl’s butt is too big for the coffee shop, or the coffee shop is too small. Either way, such an absurd lack of design insight would certainly turn me off of a coffee establishment.
I understand how the business model may be misguided, though I don’t quite get how merchandising will help.
Um, that’s the only reason I go to Starbucks. You think I go there for the coffee? Those green aprons just do it for me.
…
Ok, ok, I’m kidding. Firstly, Dutch Brothers sells donuts, which is really almost as good as a barista in a bikini. Secondly, I bet if Starbucks had bikini baristas they wouldn’t be forced to give away internet out of desperation, would they?
Now “BikiniBaristasRock,” a neutral party in this discussion, offers a counterpoint to “Elizabeth’s” comments:
Your passion is noted, BBR, however it is somewhat rude to insult the near-gymnophobic, individuals with mental disabilities, and those who are unable to correctly identify prostitutes. We’re all people.
Oooh, ice burn! BBR concludes with:
So true, BBR. It’s only exploitation if it’s non-consensual. Wait, I may be thinking of something else…
Sidenote to my wife: I assure you that I do not leave $10 tips to these young ladies embodying (no pun intended) the American entrepreneurial spirit.
“George” makes it clear his allegiance is with the bikiniistas. At least I think he does:
I co sign as well, George. You are now part owner. Go on:
Hey now, these are my readers you’re talking to. Of course, you do have a point George: only people looking up bikini baristas on the internet will find this blog post. Kevin, do you have something to tell us?
George, the bikini baristas salute you for your dedication to supporting their cause. Next time you go, you should proposition your bikiniista for a date. In all caps of course.
Lastly, “Ashley” resolves my gratuity inquiry:
But how will I know how much to tip?
…or they should work at a bikini coffee shop.
Keep those comments coming!
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Tags: Annette's Grind, Bikini Coffee, comments, mailbag