Coffee in Seattle
I’m a huge fan of coffee. You could say that I am obsessed, an addict or a fiend. This past week I went on a spring break trip to the west coast in search of the perfect cup of coffee (and to travel). It was my first time on the other side of the country and I was beyond ecstatic to get my first taste of coffee in the coffee capital of the country, Seattle.
To be honest, I enjoy almost any type of coffee. At age 22 I don’t think I have enough years on me to be too picky about the cup of joe I’m drinking but I will say that I have my preferred roasts and pours. Usually I like my coffee locally sourced, strong and smooth. If it’s certified Fair Trade, that’s even better! (I like to feel good about the environment as well as the farmers I am receiving my lovely cup of coffee from.)
I had heard about Seattle starting the first Starbucks (which I have to admit, I do enjoy) prior to my trip and about all the other renowned coffee shops scattered throughout their narrow streets. I was excited to land and get my first taste of liquid gold and truly appreciate the city’s reputation.
Unfortunately, I think my expectations were too high for Seattle. The first morning we woke up in Seattle the air hung with humidity and the skies were threatening rain. I was excited because a warm cup of coffee is almost always better on a chilly and rainy day. As my luck would have it, it started raining as soon as we stepped outside. My boyfriend and I sprinted through the rain and wind down the slippery cobblestone streets to the Slate café—one of the most famous cafes in Seattle, I was told. Upon entering, you were hit with warm air and could smell the burnt toast-like aroma of roasting coffee—I snapped into caffeine mode and needed a cup in my hands as soon as possible.
Ordering at this cafe was difficult, I wasn’t aware you could pour, roast and garnish coffee in the ways that this café did, so I stayed away from the exotic names and ordered what I knew—a medium roast hot coffee. Perhaps my expectations were to high but after receiving my warm cup of mahogany liquid, I was disappointed in the bitter, tart taste. The coffee seemed burnt, not like it had been roasted with love and care. I had had better cups of coffee in Baltimore and even little Rhode Island! Thought so highly of this shop before entering and was let down by the mediocre cup between my hands. I had come all this way to have the best coffee of my life (and to travel the entire west coast, of course) and felt utterly disheartened that my dream was not met. I sulked over my coffee and inevitably through it out with a few sips left.
Although I was disappointed, I wanted to give Seattle another shot. My next stop was Seattle Coffee Works. My expectations were low after the experience I had the day before, but I needed my morning caffeine and wanted to give the city another shot. This time I ordered a cappuccino, one of my other go-to’s. I was greeted by a frothy mug of espresso and steamed milk. My first sip was like being kissed by a coffee angel (if there is such a thing). It was amazing. I had never tasted such notes of richness and sweetness in one cup before. I savored every last drop and decided that was the best I was going to get. I gave up my Seattle coffee search and moved onto my next goal, the search for the best Portland beer.