Saturday, October 4, 2014

#30: Neptune Cafe - Greenwood

Kristy and I set out this afternoon to accomplish three things: 

1. Get coffee at coffee shop #30: Neptune Cafe 
2. Eat dinner at Red Mill Burgers, since we've been wanting to go there for a long time now 
3. Attend the Garfunkel and Oates show 

We began our BIG DAY OUT by driving to Greenwood.

The first thing that we noticed when we entered Neptune Cafe is that it looks EXACTLY like the illy shop in the Castro district of San Francisco. Like, a freakish amount. So much so that Kristy was in the middle of a sentence as we walked in and she stopped mid-sentence, looked at me, and said, "WHAT?!" We proceeded to spend the next fifteen minutes discussing the similarities and looking online to see if the two places are in any way connected (spoiler alert: they are not). 

We ordered coffee (an americano for Kristy and a latte for me) and sat down at the tables (THE EXACT SAME TABLES FROM SAN FRANCISCO. I SWEAR) to drink them. The art on my coffee was pretty standard, but the coffee was great. The cafe was pretty busy, and the customer base seeemed pretty broad: families, students, friends, people on dates -- they were all here. Kristy and I spent the next hour there drinking the coffee and asking and answering hypothetical questions. The people at the tables around us loved us. 


That's pretty much all I have to say about this cafe. The rest of this is completely unrelated. Read on if you'd like to. Don't if you don't want to. You've got options. You do you. 

We left the cafe and set out to continue our BIG DAY OUT by walking to Red Mill Burgers.

In our usual fashion, after leaving the cafe, we attempted to take a picture together. However, I could not get it together enough to look like a normal human being. While Kristy looked like a CoverGirl model in every picture, my looks ranged from "enthusiastic serial killer" to "where am i and who are you?" There are a few choice shots for you to peruse. 




 After walking about a half a mile in the wrong direction (my fault), we turned around and walked the remaining mile to the actual restaurant.We ran into both a mailbox with free poems (that had no poems) and my family's village.


When we got to Red Mill, there was a sign proclaiming that this establishment only takes cash or checks. We had neither. So, Kristy went to an ATM across the street to get some money. We then ate far too much food in the form of veggie burgers, fries, and milkshakes. While we have yet to find anywhere to measure up to Bellingham's Boomers (!!! ahh so good), this place was pretty good, and they also had an interesting taste in music, mostly consisting of gems such as "Let's Get It On" and "Sexual Healing." After dancing at each other from across the table and probably offending some fellow diners with our choice discussion topics, we left Red Mill to head to our third and final destination of the night: Garfunkel and Oates! 

(If you are unaware of Garfunkel and Oates, they are a comedy band. They have some... risque... subject matter, but here is one of the family-friendlier songs: Pregnant Women are Smug)

On the drive to the show,Kristy almost killed two skateboarders who seemed to think that the middle of the street in heavy traffic was the perfect place to be skateboarding. Since this has absolutely nothing at all to do with coffee at this point, I'll just say that the show was hilarious and super entertaining and we had a great time. Kristy also discovered her love for Gangsta's Paradise, and I think that's all we really could have asked for out of this day. 




Thursday, June 19, 2014

#28: Chocolati Café - Greenwood

In the spirit of letting the order of which coffeeshops are attended devolve into utter chaos, the latest coffeeshop that Kristy and I visited was Chocolati Café in Greenwood. I’m going to rate it as a disappointment right away, simply due to the fact that Johnny Depp was not present, as its name had very clearly implied. (But not really. It wasn’t a disappointment at all).
We found parking pretty quickly and walked by a bookstore that is extremely reminiscent of a bookstore that Kristy and I frequent when in San Francisco. (Although, the bookstore in San Francisco has a resident cat named Owen that wanders around the store and has been there the last two years we have been there. This store did not appear to have a friendly neighborhood pet).

We got to Chocolati Café and were faced with an entire case of delicious looking truffles and other chcocolate confections. The woman at the counter, who, by the way, had amazingly curly hair that I wanted to kidnap and place on my own head, didn’t grow frustrated with us even as we took upwards of five minutes looking at the case and trying to decide what kind of chocolate we wanted. We finally decided, and I ordered the mocha chocolate truffle. Kristy ordered the raspberry truffle, which LOOKED LIKE AN ACTUAL RASPBERRY IT WAS AMAZING GUYS.

There was a male barista behind the counter who was absolutely hilarious, but obviously not trying to be. He was endlessly entertaining, conversing in accents, doing impressions, and making appreciative noises everytime someone ordered something he deemed “yummy.” Almost everyone who came in after us appeared to be a regular and the baristas knew all of their names and orders. It was nice to see.  

True to form, we ended up staying there a while, discussing Watsky’s new single, how close we are to seeing him live again (ohhhmahhhgahhh it’s only 12 days away now), and the tragedy of his single being played on Kiss 106.1 (even if it was just once).

We finished our coffee, bussed our dishes, and contemplated buying more chocolate to take home (or maybe that was just me). We stopped by the bookstore and wandered around. I picked up a random book from a pile of random books in a store full of random books and what did I find inside, folded and nestled between two pages? A ticket stub from a San Francisco muni bus. It must be a sign that it’s time to go back. And, speaking of countdowns for exciting things… 38 days to San Francisco. I’m ready.
In conclusion (I was always taught never to conclude with “In conclusion”, but Imma do it anyways just because I can and no one cares) this place was great. The coffee was great, the chocolate was great, the baristas were great, and the parking was great. If I’m in the area again, I would definitely stop in again.


Check out Chocolati Café 

Previous post: #36: Cafe Allegro - U District

Tuesday, May 20, 2014

#36: Cafe Allegro - U District

Have you ever found yourself in the middle of a street fair with no idea how you got there?

Kristy and I didn’t feel like driving into Seattle, so we settled on visiting a coffeeshop closer to home in the U District. Besides, we couldn’t be wasting a bunch of time messing with Seattle because we had big plans with Menchies and One Tree Hill later that night. (I finally got Kristy to start watching One Tree Hill; it’s been one of my greatest achievements).

I drove into the U District and immediately noticed that there was too much commotion for a normally-sleepy area on a Saturday afternoon. Then we spotted police cars. And street closure signs. And girls in flowy dresses and flower headbands. And absolutely nowhere to park. That’s when the panic started to set in, as it always does when I am behind the wheel of a car with nowhere to put it. We drove around looking for parking, spotted a few close-to-naked people, Kristy stopped talking to me because I was stressed, and we ended up finding a street parking spot that some angel of the Lord was just abandoning.

Krsity saw a sign and said, “Oh! This is the University Street Fair!” and I realized that I really need to learn how to do research before leaving the house. Anyways, we started walking towards Cafe Allegro. I did, in fact, research the coffeehouse, and many people said that it was a fun adventure trying to find it as it is located in an alley (sorry, Mom).

We were distracted by the fair, the booths, and several choice fair-goers. Then, we heard it. The beautiful, melodic sounds of “No Diggity” coming from a man playing acoustic guitar on a stage. We were drawn to him like moths to a flame. Like Lindsay Lohan to bad decisions. Like nutella to depression. Like Selena Gomez to Justin Bieber. Guitar man ended up doing what I can only assume was a cover of Ed Sheeran & Passenger’s cover of “No Diggity” (hello. watch that here now) mixed with “Thrift Shop.” It was magical. I pointed out that he sounded a bit like Ben Gibbard, and Kristy almost lost it. She has an interesting relationship with Ben Gibbard, but it mostly involves her violently throwing her hand against her heart and staring wistfully into the distance. (Sidenote: She ‘discovered’ Death Cab in 2010). Speaking of interesting relationships, you should ask Kristy her thoughts on Ryan Seacrest and Julianne Hough if you get the chance sometime. It will be worth your while. She may start crying.

So, after we decided to leave guitar man, we wandered around searching for the coffee shop. I also had a sub-goal of finding a mailbox, which, apparently, the U-District is opposed to, since I couldn’t find one anywhere. That is, until we found the actual Post Office in our search for the coffeehouse. I mailed my letter (actually, it was a bill. I hate bills. I understand Destiny’s Child so much more now that I pay my own bills. #idependonme). Turns out that the alley is actually located right next to the Post Office and from there, Allegro was easy to find.

When you walk into Cafe Allegro, it is immediately very welcoming. The walls are all exposed brick, which I love, and there are event posters and artwork plastered throughout the entire place. There is an upstairs (which was closed for renovations while we were there) as well as a second room with extra seating and live music.

Kristy and I both ordered tall nonfat lattes to-go. We ended up getting the lattes in fancy pint-glasses, which, definitely were not to-go. Unless this café is just super-duper-extra-friendly and wanted us to take their mugs with us. Unfortunately, the coffee was not great. In fact, I actively disliked it, which I think is the first time I’ve said that since I started this coffee adventure. The shots were really bitter and the whole drink just tasted burnt and flavorless. I thought that maybe it was just me, but Kristy agreed with me. I’m hoping that it was just a fluke, because I’ve actually heard really good things about this place before. The place was packed, as well, so it is obviously well-liked by UW-ers.


We left Cafe Allegro after finishing (well, almost, in my case) our drinks and attempted to take a picture together in the alley. It ended up looking like we are announcing our engagement. Sometimes I’m not at all confused why people think we are lesbians. (Sidenote: We still aren’t. Sorry ladies).


We headed back to the car, made a pit-stop at the mall because we both needed to buy work clothes, and then went home to do what we truly were meant to do: eat frozen yogurt while watching attractive people live fictional, dramatic lives. We also did some wall-sits while alternatively harmonizing to the Rocky theme music and rapping along with Childish Gambino. You wish you were as cool as us.


Sunday, April 27, 2014

#14: Cafe Petti Rosso: Capitol Hill

Right. So, I've completely abandoned any sense of order when it comes to going through this list. I've adopted a much less logical, but much more convenient method called "I'M GOING TO GO WHERE I WANT WHEN I WANT AND ONLY IF IT'S 100% CONVENIENT FOR ME AND MY LIFE."

It's working out well so far.

 Given that logic, it only makes sense that number 14 would come right after number 46.

So, Kristy and I have been in Capitol Hill for the past three days straight. Friday we went to a concert at Neumos. (Geographer. Well, really, Tokyo Police Club was the headliner, but we went for Geographer, the opener. I love Geographer. The lead singer, Michael Deni, has some of the greatest hair this world has ever seen).
Mike, right. I mean, look at that hair. Glorious.
We were in Capitol Hill yesterday as well. I was in a terrible mood, started by...shorts. Kristy asked me to bring her a pair of shorts to work. I thought, "Yeah, self, that will be easy to do. Just find a pair of shorts and bring them to her workplace." Turns out, these shorts don't exist. I tore her room apart, looking for shorts. I ended up just bringing her entire wardrobe instead of shorts. When I got to her workplace, this is what happened.

Kristy: Hi!
Me: WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU I LOOKED FOR YOUR SHORTS FOR MY ENTIRE LIFETIME AND AM NOW CONVINCED YOU HAVE NO SHORTS, WILL NEVER HAVE SHORTS, AND HAVE NEVER ONCE EVEN WORN SHORTS. WHAT EVEN ARE SHORTS? AHHHHHHHHH.
Kristy: Uh.
Me: WHERE ARE THEY? WHERE? WHEREEERERERERERE?
Kristy: Obviously they are under my socks... you know.. where the shorts go.

So, the shorts debacle put me in a inexplicably bad mood. I waited for Kristy to get off work and then we headed to Cal Anderson Park. Along the way, I said mean things about innocent people, like when we passed a Subway I said, "Looking for sandwich artists? ARTISTS? WELL THAT'S GENEROUS!"

I then proceeded to rant about the pedestrian stop/walk signals that don't feature the second-countdown, "I HATE THE WALK SIGNS THAT ONLY SHOW THE FLASHING HAND WITHOUT TELLING YOU HOW MUCH TIME IS LEFT. HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO COMPLETE A THOROUGH COST/BENEFIT ANALYSIS REGARDING MY SAFETY WHILE CROSSING WHEN THERE ARE NO FLASHING SECONDS?"
Kristy: Uh, you could just look at the stoplights and see if they are green or yello---
Me: NOOOOOOOOOO NOT GOOD ENOUGH.
Kristy: Okaaay.

Today was the third day we were in Capitol Hill. This time, we were there to visit coffee shop #14: Cafe Petti Rosso. We parked at the Starbucks on First Hill where Kristy works and then took a short 10 minute walk down to Cafe Petti Rosso. We passed it, twice, before realizing that it was hiding. (Not really, we just aren't the most observant, as evidenced by a sandwich board pointing right to the cafe that we somehow completely missed. Twice).

We walked in the door and it was another one of those destinations, like the Wandering Goose (#46) that is more of a brunch/cafe place than a coffeehouse. It is really cute inside with lots of little date-ish tables for two. Kristy ordered a caramel sauce americano and I ordered a nonfat latte. It was relatively expensive: 4.00 for the americano and 4.34 for the latte. There was a moment of panic when the only seats available, benches by the window, looked to be stolen by the man behind us, but, all was well. There were still two seats left.

[Sidenote: Kristy downloaded an app called "Pact" a few weeks ago. Basically, you make a pact to workout a certain number of times per week, and if you keep the pact, the app pays you. If you don't, you get charged 5 dollars per day you miss. So, basically, if you workout, you are getting paid by the people who didn't. Harsh. The catch is, you can't just say you did it. You have to check in WHILE you are at a gym (it verifies your location) and stay there for at least 30 minutes. Or, you can turn on the motion tracker and walk/run/bike/whatever for 30 minutes. Anyways, I thought that sounded like a fun and easy way to make money, since I'm already kickboxing 5 times a week anyway. The problem with me, however, is I can't remember to do ANYTHING on a daily basis. If I had to remember to take birth control to keep from getting pregnant, I would have like 18 kids by now (if watching Netflix can get you pregnant). I just can't remember to do daily things like that. My daily multi-vitamins are more like, "maybe once a week vitamins". So, yeah, earlier this week, I went kickboxing twice, but didn't remember to activate Pact before I walked in the doors. So, it's like I never went at all. Then I was sick for 4 days. By today, I had to complete my Pact or I was going to get charged for not working out when I actually did! So, I did something morally unsound. I figured out that if you turn the motion tracker on and then just move your phone up and down for 30 minutes, it's like you just did a really complete, hardcore 30-minute workout. So, just keep in mind that the entire time we were at this coffeehouse, I was waving my phone around like a crazy person or someone who is really devoted to physical fitness. (I'm going to call it "not cheating" because I actually did go to the gym and just didn't record it. I don't think Pact is the app for me, guys)].

End sidenote. The foam on the latte was super smooth. Kristy said it was the smoothest and best foam she'd ever tasted. In the words of Drake, it was "the best she ever had."


We happened to be sitting at the window, though, and someone thought it was a really great idea to open all the windows. It was not a really great idea. It was freezing. After we finished our coffee, we were discussing leaving, and then, a magical moment occured:

You know how every once in a while you see a really attractive person and think, "no one should ever look this good ever because everyone else on the planet looks like a troll compared to this person"? Well, that happened today. Kristy and I both saw this man across the street from the cafe at the same time, looked at each other, wide-eyed, and then continued to stare at him like the world-class creeps we are. He was wearing a green hoodie with dark-wash skinny jeans, had the perfect amount of stubble, and the whitest, straightest teeth I've ever seen.

Me: NUIhasdfhgAUhughl;asdfhig he's one of the most beautiful people I've ever seen in real life.
Kristy: He's coming into the cafe, he's coming in. Acting normal now. Oh my gosh. Wow.
Me: (whisperyell) WHY DOES HE LOOK LIKE THAT?

I then claimed that he was probably in the Top 5 most attractive people that I've ever seen in real life, and Kristy agreed. It is interesting to note that Kristy has been with me for all my Top 5 sightings. They are as follows, in no particular order:

1. "Cracked Pepper" - This was a waiter at New York Pizza in Bellingham who was so attractive that it hurt to even look at him. He was like the sun. He came to our table and said, "Craaaaaaaaacked pepper?" so nonchalantly and Kristy's lettuce came out of her mouth. He is now forever known as Cracked Pepper. We only saw him once.
2. Haight-Ashbury Burger Man - One time in San Francisco, Kristy was about to kill someone due to hunger, so we stopped at a random burger place. We found one of the most attractive men ever, eating alone, who happened to be wearing a sweater with a grizzly bear on it. We'll never see him again.
3. Someone that we both actually know in real life (and, if you're reading this, there is a 30-70% chance you know him too), so I will not reveal any names, locations, or descriptions of said person.
4. Guy on the Corner of Broadway - There was a guy on the corner of a street on Broadway in Capitol Hill that we saw maybe two years ago for about 17 seconds max. It was a good 17 seconds though.
5. This new hoodie/jeans/stubble man.

Oh my gosh this has nothing to do with coffee at this point. I'm so sorry.

After the run-in with Mr. Beautiful, we left. That's it. The end.

If you're ever in the Capitol Hill area, you should stop by. It's right by Cupcake Royale, across from the Unicorn. You never know, you may see one of the most attractive people on the planet if you stop by (although I probably won't be there. Ooo-oh. Zing).

Monday, April 14, 2014

#? whoa, this is a bonus post

Disclaimer: This post contains no actual coffeeshops on the official list. You’ve been warned.

This day started out with the best of intentions.

It really did.

One of my favorite people on the planet, Mr. Josh Galassi, had just gotten back from his internship in the concrete jungle of New York City, and Kristy and I were super excited to get to spend a few hours with him in Seattle before we all went to a housewarming party. We planned on taking him to a coffeeshop on the list, however, he had gotten a ride down to Seattle with a friend in the morning, and had been sitting in coffeeshops all morning until we picked him up at 3:30. He spent seven hours in coffeeshops before we were going to take him to yet another coffeeshop. It seemed cruel, but he still seemed to be up for it so we headed out to pick him up.

I caught a glimpse of his lovely, lovely self on the sidewalk in front of, you guessed it, a coffeeshop. It was so great to see him (Josh, if you’re reading this, three months is far too long for you to be away) The first thing he said to me was, “You look so good – have you been losing weight?” and, yep, I knew there was a reason I love this guy. I think I’ll keep him around. It got a little weird when he got into the car with a bag full of onions and limes, but whatever. (We later learned that it was for guacamole for the party later. Mystery solved).

We all headed to West Seattle to visit coffeeshop #42: The Fiddlehead Café. Kristy brought up an excellent point when we got to West Seattle. She asked if I had looked at the hours of this particular café. Now, I think you can probably extrapolate the rest of this story, but just in case interpretation of foreshadowing isn’t your forte, I’ll give you a hint: planning ahead is not my strong suit. I know my flaws. The café was closed.

BUT WAIT! There was another coffeeshop on the list that was only a few blocks away! YAY!

BUT WAIT! THAT MOFO WAS CLOSED AS WELL!

So we walked. And we walked. And we walked; extremely confident that Seattle wouldn’t let us down. Seattle; the city drowning in coffee, the city that is simultaneously proud and ashamed of its coffee history (read: Starbucks); surely the coffee capitol of the world would come through for us. We knew that it was only a matter of time before a coffeehouse would rear it’s beautiful head if only we kept looking (Cue Lionel Richie’s “Hello”).

 Wrong.

Everything was closed. Apparently 4 PM on a Saturday is not coffee time in West Seattle.

We ended up finding one place that was open and served coffee. It was the worst place in the entire world for people who have given up sugar for Lent: Cupcake Royale. We entered the shop and were immediately assaulted by the sweet, amazing smell of contraband sugar and frosting. It was glorious. It was painful. It was cupcake madness.

Now, I’ve seen some upset people in my twenty three years on this planet, but let me tell you, the look of despair on Kristy’s face while Josh was eating this (admittedly delicious-looking and smelling) cupcake rivals them all. Everyone in this cupcake shop was, you know, eating cupcakes. THE NERVE OF SOME PEOPLE. Needless to say, it was torture.

Blah, blah, blah, the coffee was pretty good. THIS PLACE ISN’T EVEN ON THE LIST SO THAT’S ALL I’M SAYING. I’m going to proceed with the story of this night, because, why the hell not?

Josh proceeded to tell us about his adventures in New York, and I found myself falling further and further in like with him. I won’t give away all of his secrets, but, just know that this was part of the conversation: “Yeah, at any given time, there are at least 60 clowns in Manhattan alone.”

This is getting rather lengthy, so here are some bullets:
  • We tried and failed to get samples at Great Harvest. It was devastating.
  • Josh decided to buy some fancy-ass wine
  • We went to dinner at a Mexican restaurant. Josh had already bought the wine, and it was in a very conspicuous paper bag. Josh looked at the restaurant entrance, down at the wine, back at the restaurant, and said, "Well, I guess I'm bringing this in."


  • We devoured a plate of nachos faster than a Taylor Swift relationship.
     

  • Josh explained the actual meaning of "cigars on ice" to Kristy. 
  • Kristy explained how Tinder works to Josh:

  • There was crazy decor in the bathrooms at the restaurant, so Kristy told Josh to go look. After he came back with a blank stare, it was clear that only the women's bathroom was crazy. Then we made him look at the women's bathroom. 


Overall, we never did make it to a place on the list, but it was probably more fun that way.


Sunday, March 30, 2014

#46 - The Wandering Goose - Capitol Hill

Let me begin this summary with a quick fact: The Castro District in San Francisco is the greatest, happiest, best place on Earth. Fact #2: I absolutely hate the sun (for reasons that are complicated and uninteresting), and, even I don’t hate the sun if I’m in San Francisco. It’s a magical place. If I could move there right now without having to be in possession of a few million dollars more than what I currently have, I would be there in a heartbeat. With that being said, The Wandering Goose happens to be located on a street that looks like it came straight out of the Castro. It was glorious. If I can’t be in the Castro at all times, this is an acceptable doppelganger.
The Casto: AKA: The Best. 
The café itself is adorable. Charming. Homey. Rustic. All of those words that sound like they could describe a novelty country Bed & Breakfast. There were fresh cut tulips at every table and sun was streaming in through all the windows .The café is quite small, with tables and benches lining the walls, making the middle passageway to the cashier pretty narrow. We went on a Sunday afternoon and the place was packed. This was the first coffeeshop that we have visited in which coffee is not the main attraction. This place is a café, and serves brunch-type foods as its main attraction.

The food looked DELICIOUS. Scones and hash browns and omelettes and pancakes… everything looked so amazingly delicious and smelled even better. We didn’t eat there, though, and I’m looking forward to going back soon when we can eat there. For Lent, both Kristy and I gave up sugar. I am also doing a 10-week program through my kickboxing gym that restricts grains and most dairy as well. It was torture to watch the ladies sitting next to us order a huge, fluffy, homemade scone with fresh raspberry jam and not even finish it.



Moving on: The latte was really, really good. The foam was great and the flavor was rich and smooth as well. Kristy’s Americano was a little bitter and flavorless, though. To be fair, my focus wasn't entirely on the coffee as all we both wanted to do was devour all the biscuits on the premises.  

When we left The Wandering Goose, we saw Girl Scouts with a sign touting, “Help us Raise Money to Cycle through England,” and all I could think was, “This is what Girl Scout money is paying for? Vacations to Europe? Why isn’t anyone financing a trip to Europe for me? If I volunteer to chaperone this Girl Scout trip to England will I also be expected to cycle, because, no thank you.” I didn’t buy any cookies.

#47: Forza Coffee - Green Lake

My mom came to visit me over the weekend, so I took her with me to my kickboxing class on a Saturday morning and to Forza, coffeehouse number 47. We drove to Forza in Green Lake to meet Kristy there. We found a place to park pretty easily, although my mom was driving and I now know where I got my inability to parallel park. (Sorry mom, but we both know it's true). We parked right next to a hot yoga studio, and let me tell you, based on their clientele alone, I may need to take up hot yoga. My mom put it best when she said, "Wow, that really is... hot yoga." (I guess parallel parking isn't the only trait I inherited from her; we can now add 'penchant for objectification' to that list).

We got to Forza and Kristy was waiting for us. The place is huge, and reminded me a lot of the decor of Woods Coffee (a small, local coffee chain in the Bellingham/Whatcom area). It has a great view of Green Lake (read: a great view of the attractive men running around the lake), lots of sitting space, big, wooden tables, and an open, inviting ambiance. There were families, runners, college students working on papers and looking miserable; a diverse mix of people. It seemed very friendly and neighborhood-y in the sense that perhaps the baristas know your order and may ask you how your dog is doing. 

The coffee was great. They have pretty standard prices; $3.75 for a 16 ounce nonfat latte. The foam was so smooth, which I love, and the flavor of the espresso wasn't too overpowering. I expected nothing less, as Kristy and I have visited the Forza in Seattle Center several times (most notably before meeting Watsky at Bumbershoot. Check him out here. I will continue to shamelessly plug Watsky at any opportunity. Sorry not sorry). 

Kristy, my mom and I spent the next twenty minutes conversing, peppered with bouts of appreciating the athletes at the lake. We took off after waiting for my mom to finish stacking our cups, not unlike a toddler.



(Also, Kristy saw an iced, blended, creamy, chocolate-y drink as we were leaving, and I swear in that moment she was infinite). 



Check out Forza 

#48 - Broadcast Coffee - Capitol Hill 

Monday, February 24, 2014

#48: Broadcast Coffee - Capitol Hill(ish)

If you’ve been following along, you know that this coffee endeavor has been and will continue to be somewhat dampened for me due to the extreme amounts of parallel parking on busy streets that is required when dealing with Seattle. The experience at Broadcast Coffee was no different. Anyone who knows me knows that I have slight to severe anxiety about dealing with parking in cities. Driving in cities, driving on the freeway, doing anything else motor-vehicle related is perfectly fine; in fact, I quite enjoy it. However, parking is my kryptonite. I’m a terrible parallel-parker and have, on more than one occasion, contemplated the legitimacy of me passing my driver’s test on that fateful day back in 2005.

Anyways, I drove myself into Seattle, fearing the worst. Which, it happens, is what I got. The traffic was bad, the streets were busy, the parking was parallel, and there were no spots to be found. I would like to emphasize that what happens next is nothing short of a miracle in my life: I did not panic. I did not use a GPS. I simply drove around for a few minutes, circling back to streets I had already driven, going to areas I had never been before, trying to find a place to park. Now, normally, I would look desperately for a parking lot, even if it meant that I had to pay a ridiculous amount. In the past, I would gladly pay any amount  to get out of the “Parallel Parking with Angry Drivers Behind You, Watching You, Judging You” business. This time, however, I passed several pay lots and passed them by, determined to find a free street parking spot, determined to grow as both a person and a driver.

After about ten minutes of searching, I found what I was looking for. Although it meant having to deal with this, my least favorite intersection in the entire world. I mean, seriously, what is this? Two roundabout-esque structures with five entrances each? It’s like a small child took some molly with Miley and decided to get into the city planning game:


Okay, now that this blog has become almost entirely about driving and parking in Seattle, perhaps it's time to change gears (haha, get it?)


On my walk from my car to Broadcast, I had the distinct pleasure of walking behind two college-aged guys talking about the "chick I banged last night" until the "banger" slipped on a slick grate on the sidewalk and fell down. Justice. Anyways, it was a stereotypical, rainy Seattle day, so I found Broadcast like this:


Kristy was waiting inside Broadcast, because she was driving from Olympia and met me there. She brought me a biscuit. 

The menu is simple, which is always refreshing to me. There are about ten options. I got a nonfat latte and paid with a credit card on one of those iPads equipped with a credit card reader. Every time I use one of those and sign my name with my finger I feel like I'm using a very fake Playskool machine that is going to steal all my very real money. I don't know why. (Also, I just realized now that it is a TERRIBLE idea to spell "school" wrong on toys that are meant for children. Why, Playskool, why?)


There really isn't a whole lot to say about this place. The coffee was fine, the barista man was nice (he had a t-shirt with drawings of coffee cups on it, which gave him an air of credibility). The coffeeshop itself is pretty large with lots of tables and interesting art. Overall, it was just fine. Nothing great. Nothing bad. 

My favorite part was the following juxtaposition of hate and love on my way back to my car. People are wonderful. 




Sunday, February 16, 2014

#49: Uptown Espresso - Wallingford

Let me begin with a disclaimer: I am not a coffee expert. I have never been a barista. I haven't taken a trip to Guatemala to visit an organic, sustainable coffee bean farm. I don't know how to properly use the word "mouthfeel" (although, I am of the opinion that no one should use the word mouthfeel, like, ever). I am just someone who enjoys drinking coffee on a pretty regular basis. That's the extent of my credentials.

So, Uptown Espresso. 

Come to find out, there are several locations throughout the city. Kristy and I opted to go to the Wallingford location, because it is the closest to our house, and because, well, Wallingford is super duper cute. 

Some important background information: I am a terrible parallel-parker.  Like, world-class terrible. If there were an Olympic gold medal awarded for "You Absolutely Suck at Parallel Parking, and The Whole World Needs to Know In Order To Ensure The Safety of the Driving Public," I would receive that medal, every four years, no contest. Given this information, Kristy drove us to Wallingford, assuming that we would run into some parallel parking situation that would be far too stressful for me to handle. 

However, when we got to Uptown, I saw the most glorious thing I have EVER seen: a parking lot. Guys, a parking lot. In Seattle. For free. Right in front of the coffeehouse. I'm not sure that I can fully express how happy this made me. Remember in Cast Away, when Tom Hanks lost Wilson for the first time, but then he found Wilson and started laughing and apologizing and crying because he had his best friend back? Yeah. That's how happy I was.
Me, upon seeing this glorious parking lot.

After I got over the initial shock of the parking lot, we went inside. The inside is very cute and has a lot of large, wooden tables that would be perfect for studying. The barista was very nice, and Kristy noticed that she was wearing a Noah Gundersen tour t-shirt. We had just been to his show at the Neptune, and so  I asked her if she went as well. It turned out that she was also at the show, which began a discussion of how great the show was and how Abby Gundersen is pretty much a beautiful, flawless angel. (If you aren't familiar with the Gundersens and would like to be, start here).

I ordered a nonfat latte and Kristy ordered a caramel americano. The prices were a bit higher than average (the latte was $4.05 for 16 ounces), but, let me tell you, it was so worth it. The foam was so, so, so, so, so good (which makes sense, seeing as Uptown's tagline is "Home of the Velvet Foam"). The taste of the shots was also delicious. I would most definitely feel comfortable saying that this cup of coffee was easily one of the Top 10 cups of coffee I have ever had. I would highly recommend it, and I will be back there very soon, I'm sure.

So, in conclusion, if you like wonderful coffee and/or parking lots, Uptown Espresso is the place for you.

(Sad news: No sighting of attractive sweats-man today).



Sunday, February 9, 2014

#50: Ugly Mug Cafe - U District

The first, well, fifteith, coffeeshop on the list is "Ugly Mug," a place in the U-district. Kristy, my roommate, came with me to this one... well, she drove us there, so I guess I went with her. We got close to the location with relative ease, that is until the giant orange cones and detour signs blocked our path to the coffeeshop. So, we gave up and went home.

Just kidding.

We parked a block away and walked. It was unclear if we could walk around the barriers, but we saw an 80-year-old woman walking in that direction, so we were pretty confident that if she could do it, so could we. It turns out that we were right. About 100 feet after the detour, we made it to Ugly Mug.

Ugly Mug is a very small, rustic little coffee shop,with wooden tables, odd, slightly-creepy old-timey paintings, and a couch. The barista at the front was very friendly as we contemplated what to order. I ordered a 16-oz nonfat latte and Kristy ordered a 16-oz caramel americano. My drink was $3.63, a pretty standard price. As we waited for the drinks to be called out, we sat at one of the wooden tables. Next to us was another table, occupied by two college-aged girls who seemed to be going through some sort of quarterlife crisis. Kristy and I were about to be very sympathetic to their plight, as the whole, "I don't know what I'm doing with my life" trains of thought are not something foreign to either of us. However, when we started rudely eavesdropping with more conviction, we found out that they were talking about fonts. Not the insignificance of what they were doing with their lives, but fonts. Fonts. So, suffice it to say that we no longer gave a fuck about their struggles.

My drink came out first, and it looked pretty great:

It tasted.. mediocre. The foam was really nice, but the flavor of the espresso was a touch burnt. It also was lukewarm at best and cooled down even further very rapidly. I drank about 70% of it before I gave up on it.

After much debate, we decided to purchase a delicious-looking cookie from a case that we had both noticed upon first entering this establishment. I'll spare you the painful details, but it took about ten minutes to decide upon whether or not to buy this cookie. We were also distracted by a rather attractive man who entered the store wearing sweats. If you know either of us at all, sweats on men is where it's at. So, understandably, we abandoned all talk of cookies in favor of what some may refer to as "creepy staring," but I like to refer to as "admiring from afar" (although, 'afar' in this case was approximately 4 feet). After attractive sweats-man left, we continued debating this cookie. Given the amount of time it took to decide to buy this cookie, my expectations for it were through the fucking roof. Of course, this poor unsuspecting cookie did not meet these high expectations, but it was pretty decent. A bit greasy, which I wasn't expecting, but fine.

It was time to leave, but, I had to go to the bathroom. So, I did. In the bathroom I found this mirror, which says "You Look Gorgeous" on it:












I told Kristy that she had to go into the bathroom and take the same picture so I could add both of the pictures here. She did, but as you can tell, she isn't the world's greatest at getting the intended target (i.e. the words) into the picture.


So, that's about it. We left the shop just as a large group of about eight UW students came in, so, yay for timing.

You can visit Ugly Mug here:



Saturday, February 8, 2014

What Is This?

I've decided to try out every single one of the Top 50 Coffee Shops in Seattle of 2013 (as chronicled by Seattle Coffee Scene in the following article): clicky clicky click here

So, I'm going to write about every coffeeshop I visit, starting from number 50 and down to number 1. That's it.