Rediscovering the Coffee Shop

Searching for a place that straddles the line between work space and living room

When did the coffee shop morph from a salon to a place of reverence?

Image credit: Photo by Jennie Faber via Creative Commons

Recommended by the Editor

Top of the Morning

Eat and Drink: Breakfast Recipes

By: Mecca Bos

I hate coffee shops. When did it all happen? Maybe it was in college, when the coffee shop --  the place where people used to get together to talk, read books, listen to music, and smoke cigarettes -- turned into an ad hoc library. Cubicles without walls, they were places of the utmost bore.

Or maybe it was the time a pregnant friend came to town, and we went to Spyhouse Uptown to eat, catch up, and, well, drink some coffee. We caught up, we chatted, we laughed. Even though we picked a table way in the back, consciously trying not to disturb our studious fellow patrons, we found ourselves admonished. 

“I’m sure it’s all very funny ladies, but if I can hear you way up front, then you’re being too loud," said the barista who approached us.

Holy first-grade library hour déjà vu! True. Story. I said we’d move on to a bar where people were free to be convivial. When did this happen? When did the coffee shop morph from a salon to a place of reverence?

Well of course it happened with the advent of the laptop, and the telecommuter, and the work-anywhere worker. I myself am a member of that tribe, but I have to ask: why does the worker-bee set get to trump the socialites in a public place?

So I've moved on. These days I prefer bars when conducting my business, and I love, love, love the new establishments that are installing outlets right into the bar (here’s looking at you, Muddy Waters). And I would just hate it if the pleasant din of conversation and laughter, tunes, and crashing dishes were to ever morph into the solemn, silent vacant faces aglow with laptop light, even if I am amongst the guilty (probably not: the lubricating tonic of booze usually ensures this doesn't happen).

And yet, in the name of some good old fashioned New Year’s resolve, I aim to spend less time imbibing, and more time reviving. So alas, here is my confession: I am writing to you from a coffee shop.

I scoured my neighborhood in search of an establishment that wouldn’t damage my delicate sensibilities about this matter. Too many places had coffee that was outright bad (names shall go unnamed) and $4 with tip for a cup of bad coffee is just too damned much. Too many have too-cool-for-school baristas (you know who you are). Quit it. And too many have all of the cultural charm of a funeral home. Too many.

But then I found something in good old Caffetto Uptown. Of course, it’s been there so long it feels almost organic in its if-walls-could-speak crumbling patina. And yet, it also sort of transports you—to Madrid maybe, or Paris or anywhere that has a good destination coffee shop tradition. The barista? Friendly as all hell, with a daily smile and everything. The coffee? Good. Real good. As in, you don’t even need cream and sugar good (nice for January cleansing, from local roaster B&W) The music? Eclectic, local, upbeat, and at a volume that actually encourages conversation. Laptoppers, about 1:1, with a good cross-section of book and newspaper readers, backgammoners, and, yes, even a few conversationalists.

There are even a couple of outdoor tables, year-round, for those diehards who prefer a smoke with their espresso. Open from 6:30 a.m. to 1 a.m., it’s the sort of spot that would surely be open round-the-clock if the law permitted, which would give wandering souls a place to rest their bones and warm their skin over a cup of steam even if they don’t have a laptop.

So anyway, Caffetto is where you’ll find me drinking when I’m not drinking. Come on in and have a chat with me, why don’t you? I doubt anyone will object.

+ METRO's resident foodie Mecca Bos contributes to the magazine's food and drink section. She blogs for metromag.com between meals. See more of her work on her author page.