(There's a new café in town. Image from the Washington City Paper.)
It felt good hiking down to the southern quadrants after the snow trapped me in my Foggy Bottom dorm for a week, fomenting cabin fever like I’ve never experienced before. Both Southeast and Southwest appear in this final post wrapping up the series (for now). The tea has been excellent, and the locales interesting. Hope I can repeat something of this sort in other cities after the semester ends.
Big Chair Coffee n’ Grill – 2122 Martin Luther King Jr. Ave. SE – With good reason, District press paid much attention to this café’s opening a month ago. Previously there had been no coffee shop anywhere east of the river, and on a main street dotted primarily with barber shops and bodegas, the community lacked an adequate space to gather, eat and socialize.
Big Chair assumed that role, and both neighbors and neighborhood leaders seem grateful for it. As I sat down to my tea and French fries (a better combination than you might believe), I saw the garrulous barista look towards the door and suddenly cry out:
“Mr. Mayor!”
Making his way to the counter was not our current triathlete, but a solemn, slow-moving Marion Barry. I never thought I’d sit less than five feet from the Ward 8 councilmember infamous former mayor, especially in such a modest room.
The storefront lacks any affectation whatsoever, save a few political posters, and the orange interior barely holds what’s more than necessary – two tables seating four each, a counter with several stools, and a television switched to CNN.
Food stays simple, too – American breakfast and lunch options, conventional coffee variations and about five or six teas. Beverages are quickly served in generously-sized mugs. Food takes some time, an apparent symptom of the new establishment’s growing pains. Many items listed on the menu were unavailable. I eventually settled on the aforementioned French fries, which turned out to be a crisp, greasy and completely inadvertent treat. At times, the vibe seemed to fluctuate between café and luncheonette.
Not bad for a newcomer, and already popular with the locals. Big Chair seems to have success cornered. All it needs to do is pounce.
Hogate's Café – 800 Water St. SW – Long before a bar named H2O impeded its quadrant’s continual development, or its owner was arrested for tax evasion, Hogate’s Restaurant stood as a classic staple on the Southwest Waterfront. Years later, it reopened with the same name in a larger space across the street, encompassing not just several dining areas but also a café on the southernmost side. This is the first location in many years where area residents can fetch a cup of coffee without trekking to another quadrant.
Many tables and narrow booths fill the dim interior and don’t fill up except on the busiest of occasions. A bar with sparse stools serves hard drinks, and numerous televisions are usually switched to sporting events (lots of Redskins). Overall a very relaxing aura. I could see it as a venue for pre-party cocktails.
The wait staff is friendly enough, but moves too leisurely too often. This is fine when a weekend needs to be killed, or mountains of work need to be completed. But distracting cravings usually return faster than a server. It would help if the food was exceptional, but it really isn’t – basic American cuisine, very typical, and slightly above par at best. I’m sure one would find higher-quality courses in the formal dining room, but for a quick bite Hogate’s has very little to offer.
Coffee, I’m told, is good. Tea selection isn’t bad – waitpersons will present the standard box with 6-8 choices. Wireless works well, and I’ve spend whole afternoons working with my editor. (Oh, be sure to pick up a copy of The Southwester off the stands outside. It’s free, and features my reportage.) The café is a decent place that would not have risen above mediocrity had the surrounding neighborhood not been screaming for such a coffee shop for ages. That alone demands my wishes for the best.
Bourbon Coffee – 2101 L St. NW – Dwarfed by federal buildings in one of the remotest, most anonymous areas just south of Dupont Circle, Bourbon’s storefront is easy to miss. Only a miniscule sign distinguishes it from the architectural monotony and less-than-stellar chains up 21st Street. Inattentive eyes wouldn’t penetrate the windows to make out the cozy décor within. An unknowing pedestrian might be inclined to just gravitate towards the familiar green Starbuck’s sign several blocks down.
But entering Bourbon is like stepping from the arctic into the tropics. Its windows look larger from the inside and let in enough sun to make it one of the most well-lit coffee shops I’ve ever frequented. Furniture consists principally of couches and padded chairs, assuring comfort. Rugs add a degree of homeliness, and coffee-themed paintings grace the walls. Jazz plays from a (somewhat out-of-place) flat-screen television switched to a music-only channel.
Bourbon serves Rwandan coffee, which means little to me but sure made the room smell rich. I believe it’s organic, and supports independent African farmers. I found the tea list impressive – a good mix of conventional blacks and herbals, as well as all sorts from eastern nations and three specially-listed organic flavors. I couldn’t imagine ordering anything larger than a 12-ounce cup, but the store offers 16-ounce servings and larger. The menu also lists cider, Mexican hot chocolate and horchata. Sandwiches and fruit salads seem pre-packaged and run-of-the-mill, but the baked goods are far superior. The croissant was the best I’ve had in the District so far.
Side note: A peculiar instance nearly soiled my exchange with the barista at Bourbon. I heard him say that my order came to about $2.60, so I handed him three singles. He looked at me dubiously, and asked for an additional 60 cents. He must be aching for exact change, I thought, but I didn’t have it, and told him so. “If you find 60 cents, let us know,” he said, and put my payment in the register and closed it up. Now I’m the passive type who wouldn’t raise a fuss over such a paltry amount, but thought it unprofessional – criminal, even – to deny me my change. Maybe five minutes later I realized that he must’ve said $3.60 , not $2.60. I apologized and made amends, but miscommunication really ruins server/patron encounters more than it should.
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Here the District Java Roundup series concludes temporarily. I’ll no longer seek out coffee shops to profile and review, since after these posts I have almost more options for hot drinks in this city than my mind can process. But I know I didn’t hit them all. If an assiduous reader wishes to alert me to a favorite shop I may have overlooked, forgotten or otherwise disregarded for any reason, leave a comment and I’ll seek it out. In the future I’ll make a post of reader suggestions that can grow gradually and continuously so long as I keep getting suggestions. Look for it in the future.
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