Sunday, May 25, 2003


disappointed

brief visit to philly resulted in a stop at la colombe. i just can't figure this place out. many pontificate at how wonderful this coffee is -- but i can't find it.

its excellence seems near random chance to me. at a wedding reception, i was served their so-called "beaulieu" blend, which i was told by the person serving it contained a fair percentage of mexican altura. it was fresh, freshly ground, and well-made. i ended up having 3 cups after dinner.

i've never had a good experience with la colombe here in new york; i always assumed it was because the coffee was old by the time it got to brooklyn. when i tried it in philly, i was told the problem was that i wasn't at the main shop itself.

but encouraged by the after-dinner experience, i dragged mr. right through down-town philly in an autumnal mist -- and before breakfast -- for my usual test espresso drink, the doppio macchiato, at the original la colombe storefront.

when we arrived, the place was crowded, the music was weirdly metal, and the stained sienna walls looked dirty, not cool. mr. right loathed the place immediately, so against my better judgement i took my drink to go in a paper cup.

they don't have paper cups the right size! i was given my macchiato in an 8oz. paper cup! work on that, jean philippe, ok?

mr. right was hot to have crepes for breakfast so we decamped through the london fog. but i was surprised -- the drink was excellent, requiring no sugar, even tho' this was brewed with their corsica blend.

which to my mind, is too dark for good espresso. actually, i have to confess i think their "lighter" roast, the nizza, is too dark as well. . .

despite our religious differences on roast colors, i had to confess it was a tremendous cup of public coffee. so good in fact that in a rare moment i wheedled mr. right into returning after breakfast for a sit-down drink, one to savor in their deruta cups.

this time the line had cleared, the music had changed to something much more pleasant, a nice table in the cozy back corner had opened -- but once the rim hit my lips i realized:

the cups were frigid and the coffee was carbon; the latte art, a mere blob. . . .

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