Coffee Kaffe Café

Much of my adult life has been spent in coffee shops (or coffeehouses, depending on where you are). Coffee shops are magical places where all the best things in life–caffeine, friendship, art, music, pastry, games, politics, intellectual discussion, silly talks, laughter, and occasionally flirting* happen.)

I have spent countless hours playing cribbage and pinochle at urban coffee shops. Hours drawing, including sketches of people I was with. Planning futures, helping high school kids with English (what convinced me to go into teaching as it turns out, I love teenagers just not small kids). Going to coffee shop staff parties (because I practically lived there).

By coffee shop, I do not mean antiseptic chain shops, unless that is the only thing left.  My favorite shops are full of mismatched furniture, quirky signage, artsy baristas, and sketchy floors. Those with thrift store lamps from the 50s and 60s get extra stars. Murals on the walls, posters about area protests and funky gatherings a plus. Minneapolis is chock full of these quirky places. The vibrant Coffee Shop Northeast (in my favorite neighborhood), Spyhouse, Peace Coffee, and so very many from the past that have hosted many wonderful hours of my time.

Whenever we travel, we find a local non-chain coffee shop and hang out.  Great way to feel the vibe of the town, get to talking with locals, and (as we’re often traveling in the summer) get some A/C. (Blog continues below photo album.)

Left to Right, top row: A: New Java Joint, St. Cloud, c. 2006. B: Sovereign Grounds, Mpls 2026. C: Lodestone Coffee and Games, Mpls, c. 2020. D. Seven Elephants Coffee, St. Cloud, 2023. 

Second Row from Top: A: The Boiler Room, Minneapolis, c. 2019. B: 190°, Duluth, c. 2024. C: Makwa Coffee, Roseville, St. Paul, c. 2024. D: R&K Cafe II, Hillsboro, TX, 2019. 

Third Row from the top: A: A now defunct (unfortunately) Duluth Coffee shop in the basement of the mall on Canal Park, 2016. B. A coffee shop in Lexington, KY, 2018. C. Dublin Roasters, Frederick MD, 2018 (with my friend Deborah shown in the red shirt). D: Café at Mayo Clinic, 2021. 

Bottom Row: A: Peace Coffee, Minneapolis, 2016. B: Somewhere in Philadelphia, PA, in 2005. C: Spyhouse, Minneapolis, 2013. D: Urban Beans, Minneapolis, 2018.

The people watching is unmatched, if you’re in the right place. Aside from the artsy teens already mentioned, the best places offer pretentious philosophy majors with untended hair, happy hippies trailing anklet bells and patchouli, middle-aged women writing novels, business types daring to join in for a pick-me-up rather than Starbucks, the local punk band going over playlists, several computer nerds playing Magic, and more.

My husband and I had our wedding reception at a coffee shop, in 2007.  Downtown. Upstairs, rented the whole place.  Our parents put money down for open coffee bar, and our friends–coffee shop people–used it up in record time and more money had to be put down!

Just the smell of coffee makes me happy and feel loved. Even when I didn’t really drink much coffee (I can’t believe there was a time like that), I adored the smell.  While I hate the loud sound of steam wands, it’s all part of the atmosphere. I love smooooooth cold brew and minty mochas, but my standby is black, strong coffee. The kind my mother would say “would curl your hair.”  (My hair remains naturally stick straight, unfortunately.)

I’m in a coffee shop right now, finishing up some political work I’m doing for a local campaign and wrapping up some correspondence.  And writing this. My husband and I have already shazamed a couple of songs (always fun in coffee shops and Indian restaurants), and had delicious almond croissants from a local bakery that we’re always happy to find here.  I will often bring sketching materials, and nearly always have books and/or magazines on me to read. Sometimes, like today, my laptop.

I have a dream of one day owning a quirky coffee shop, with an attached bookstore on one side and a laundromat on the other.  All of life’s necessities in one business.  Oh, and a shop cat or two, of course. As I’m 60, I suspect this dream is not forthcoming, but I still think about it all the time.  

Never say never!

Here’s to coffee and quirk!  Stop on by and I’ll buy you a cup. It’s what we humans do.  And watch out for that red chair at the last table; one of the legs is really, really sketchy.

* My husband and I got to know each other, and perhaps flirted a bit, when he was a barista at the coffee shop I went to every day.  We learned we were a match when, one day when my fibro fog aphasia was bad and words weren't coming, I said, apropos of nothing, "Hey, you know that one director guy..." and he replied, without missing a beat, "Tim Burton."  We looked at other--he read my mind. And that's happened over and over and over again in the three decades since. Our Tim Burton moment was in a coffee shop.