Lest you've forgotten that finals are swiftly and menacingly approaching, the Cardinal is here to remind you of that fact with its first annual Coffee Crawl. A crew of four dedicated caffeine consumers hit five State Street shops to help you decide which spot will best suit your needs, whether they be a study spot, a chill atmosphere, or just a kickstart to the old nerves.
The Coffee Cavalcade
Molly Borgstrom: former city editor, current copy editor
Ben Pickett: copy editor
Ben Schultz: food columnist, jack-of-all-trades
Katie Will: food editor
Open Book Caf??
12:41 p.m.
The object of this first stop is originally to point out the absurdity of putting a coffee shop inside the college library that most resembles a house party. The group orders drinks with barely suppressed sneers of disdain: Molly Borgstrom and Ben Schultz get a mocha (heavy on the whipped cream) for $2.65, noting the chocolate topping is squirted out of a ketchup bottle. They decide it's too watery and should have been made with whole milk instead of skim. Katie Will orders a scaldingly hot chai tea ($1.24), which she's later surprised to find came from a powdered mix since it tastes deceptively milky. Still, the chai flavor isn't as strong as she'd like and she's pretty sure it singes her taste buds. Ben Pickett, in a choice that will make him the coffee-crawl standard-bearer, gets a straight up cup of joe, also $1.24. He has no complaints, saying it tastes like your average diner coffee without th
e gritty aftertaste. He notes, \I actually feel awake now,"" which earns him almost no respect since it's 1 p.m. The consensus is that the drinks are worth their scanty prices.
The atmosphere goes against the usual Helen C. White mold, and the java squad takes note: there's a curious lack of books for a Sunday morning, but also a curious lack of flirting. Early afternoon appears to be a prime study time at the caf??, when you're guaranteed to get a spacious booth and high-pitched cell phone calls are almost nonexistent. It goes against the usual coziness of a coffeehouse atmosphere but works as well as it should for being in the middle of a ""library.""
Briefly noted: The ""Report suspicious behavior"" sign in the booth is more suspicious than anything else. Why would you need a scary woodcut print of Edgar Allen Poe and his raven to warn you of potential magazine heists?
The caf?? clerk, UW-Madison sophomore Sarju Vasavada, tells the coffee crawlers that people rarely get upset
??over the caf?? closing earlier than the library, since it's now open till 2 a.m. on weekdays. He says the Wisconsin Union Blend coffee is the most popular drink choice.
Caffeinated quip, a la Molly: ""Clearly this coffee shop is a place for revelations.""
Espresso Royale
1:19 p.m.
Somewhat incredulously impressed with the blahablahaas of the Open Book, the caffeine cavalcade heads down State Street to seek out a standard coffee house. Though still a student-dominated coffeeshop, Espresso Royale will pass muster, if only due to its classy gold signage.
Schultz can't get Evening in Missoula tea (his favorite), so he goes with a sizable glass of Raspberry Herbal for a dollar (the day's special) instead. Its gorgeous color and rich aroma eclipse its taste, making it more tempting to observe than consume. Molly orders a tiny cup of espresso for $1.50, a modest price for the immediate kick it gives her but a price gouge considering the cup is about the size of a ping-pong ball.
Pickett gets a (PRICE) cup of one of the day's blends, Kenya AA, and calls the smooth concoction ""excellent, excellent coffee."" Katie indulges both calorie- and price-wise with a peanut butter mocha for $3.10 but is disappointed with its (by her standards) only mildly peanut-buttery flavor. Later, however, she realizes she only needed to stir it up since the butter had settled, leaving a grainy putty on the bottom of the glass. Molly, on the contrary, thinks it needs more coffee flavor.
The joe journeyers decide the ambience of Espresso is more that of a genuine coffeeshop than the Open Book. ""There's a very high glasses-to-face ratio here,"" Pickett astutely observes of the collection of mostly grad students intently clicking away on their laptops. Schultz, however, doesn't enjoy how his gangly limbs hang off the undersized seating. The rest of the group is unimpressed by the small tables, the lone couch which is permanently occupied, and constant distraction provided by th
e stream of customers and the airport terminal sounds emitted by the bean grinder.
Employee Lyzz Glueckstein, a UW senior who's worked at Espresso for two-and-a-half years, adds a bright spot when she notes they never kick patrons out. ""People will be here seven hours at a time,"" she says, also observing,""People are loony about the outdoor seats.""
Caffeinated quips, regarding Schultz's drink: ""You could club someone with this teabag,"" from Ben; ""It tastes like an aftertaste,"" from Katie.
First caffeine kick to hit: Molly, at 1:45, while walking down State street.
Steep & Brew
1:46 p.m.
Just a few doors down, the coffee crew enters Steep & Brew for what will be unanimously the best caffeine experience of the crawl. Slightly irritating baristas and higher prices aside, the travelers are tantalized by the range of flavored drinks this shop has available. Pickett sits down with a cup of Mocha Java Blend ($1.40) after he realizes he's supposed to serve himself and describes i
t as a ""tip-of-the-tongue coffee"" (presumably a compliment). Molly orders a pricey Candy Bar at the insistence of the entire crew, and it proves to be a heavenly choice: the hazelnut-mocha concoction literally tastes like a melted Russel Stover hazelnut chew. Schultz's Moka Rock Latte, a mocha coconut latte, has a tough act to follow but somehow manages to live up to and then exceed the crawlers' suddenly heightened expectations. While excellent hot, the velvety drink surpasses the Candy Bar by keeping its punch even as it cools down, and Schultz gets his caffeine high at 1:53. Ben also orders a raspberry muffin, but the dry, cakey mass is too nutty and not raspberry enough. ""It's like biting into a raspberry bush instead of a raspberry,"" he notes, as the rest of the team devours the muffin anyway. Katie's Vanilla Frapp?? is similarly disappointing, tasting like a Sno-Cone with all the flavor sucked out, but its hefty 16 oz. size jump-starts her nerves at 2:07. Plus, the drink
??leads to nostalgic reminiscences of Snoopy Ice Cream makers: it appears even Steep & Brew's bad points have a silver lining.
Perhaps the java squad's senses are artificially sharpened by this point, but Steep & Brew seems to have the best clientele as well as the best drinks. Old men with long beards populate the place along with other interesting characters, including a leathery-faced guy who refuses to be interviewed. Despite this, he talks to himself at the next table, and the crew is forced to consult its own members for good quotes. The squad notes Steep & Brew has three levels of seating for varying degrees of studiousness, and each level offers four comfy chairs along with lots of tables and chairs.
Caffeinated quip: ""This is definitely the hairiest coffee shop,"" from Schultz.
'''''''''''''' ""Is it possible to get drunk off coffee? I think?? it is,"" from Molly.
Overheard: ""Did you know Ben Stiller's mother is Irish?""
A Room of One's Own coffeeshop
2:19 p.m.
There are so
me combinations that were meant to be. Peanut butter complements jelly, summers are perfected by sandals and apparently bookstores belong with coffeeshops. Nestled comfortably in the wide selection of the feminist literature, the coffehouse at A Room of One's Own shows how hot drinks and good words fuse with ease.
The coffee crew takes a look at the surroundings and wonders what to think. A few steps from a sticker reading ""Well behaved women rarely make history,"" Katie leads the way by ordering a Gertrude and Alice (a reference to revolutionary poet Gertrude Stein and her partner), priced at $3.50. It has two shots of espresso, brown sugar and half-and-half with a perfect consistency in its foamy top. Pickett picks up an iced market blend but finds the sign in the bathroom reading ""Employees must wash their hands or we'll chop them off"" to be more memorable than the drink. The drink does its job, though, as he feels the ripple of caffeine hit him at 2:38. Molly gets a Hot H
ead, a union of coffee and espresso (price) which satisfies her taste for potent offerings. Ben's drink, a $1.75 tower of Earl Grey tea, has him reeling from the first sip as he can only produce syllables and no immediate sensible description. He calls the drink ""Earl Grey on steroids,"" and requires copious amounts of honey to take the edge off it.
While the drinks do not stand out quite as much those of other places, the atmosphere of A Room of One's Own is certainly the best of them all. There is some live Allison Krauss music playing and plaques with Jane Smiley quotes adorning the walls. Displays of books on labor and plenty of magazines make the bookstore encroach on its counterpart, elevating the squad's conversation to a discussion of Egyptian tombs and obscure Greek mythology. Though there is scant seating, the intellectual atmosphere envelopes customers for the betterment of the whole experience. While the store is a feminist stronghold, the guys feel comfortably at
??ease and notice a few other fellows a few seats away. A Room of One's Own offers a worthy follow-up to Steep and Brew with its match of literature and libations.
Michelangelo's Coffee House
3:06 p.m.
The bakery selection at Michelangelo's, the final stop of the crawl, deserves top billing since even a visual sampling of the desserts exceeds the quality of the cavalcade's drinks here (possibly as a result of the uncomfortable volume of caffeinated liquid now sloshing around in every crew member's gullet). The pies, cakes, danishes and scones look tempting and range from $1.75 to $3.25, but the testers can hardly stomach the thought of more coffee, let alone anything solid and sweet, so they leave the bakery alone.
Molly orders a huge ceramic mug of tea and (inexplicably) a croissant sandwich, which costs a hefty and unsatisfying $6. Especially after she accidentally pops her teabag with the wooden pike meant to hold the lemony pouch in her hot water, she gives up on nursi
ng anything but her impending caffeine hangover. Pickett buys yet another cup of coffee, an organic house blend, for $1.40, but has little to say about it. His comments again focus on the facilities instead, which establish their classiness with two simple inscriptions: ""Brooks was here,"" followed, in different handwriting, by, ""So was red.""
Katie orders a cremosa ($2.25), an Italian soda made with her choice of flavor shot and half-and-half. She picks coconut and immediately regrets it: the drink, though pleasantly chilly after so much hot liquid, is sickeningly sweet and tastes like iced, sugary milk. Schultz finally gets his Evening in Missoula tea-in a ""cup as big as Montana,"" he observes-and decides it's superior since it manages to retain some kick even at the close of the crawl.
Michelangelo's easily makes up with character what its drinks lack in quality. The hand-painted frescoes on the walls are serene and add to its European style more than the 1989 globe perched
??atop a partition near the tables. A bookshelf bearing varied titles-gold-leafed The Scarlet Letter, Beloved, a tattered Bookkeeping and Business Forms-is quaint without being too forced, as is a tiny aquarium full of fish. The shop provides two pleasant atmospheres with its front and back sections, dark and light, respectively, depending on the amount of studying or people-watching one is in the mood for. The marble tables, original version of Trivial Pursuit and ancient cribbage board are the ultimate indications that Michelangelo's has style.
