The January issue of Esquire
arrived in my mailbox on Friday with a special gift: a hilarious rant (sadly, not available online) by section editor David Katz that might
be about the Stumptown Coffee in the Ace Hotel.
The evidence is circumstantial: Katz complains that he is forced to wait interminably in a cafe attached to his hotel in "Seattle or Portland or Brooklyn" (just when did that trio start to make sense?) while the barista dotes on a young thing ("her right pant leg is rolled up a few inches") taking her sweet time to order a cuppa the "High Mountain Sumatran Mild."
And that's got him steamed. He writes:
"Quality is crucial. Let's agree on that right now. That thin stuff they let simmer for hours at the convenience store? Undrinkable. On that front, my friend, we couldn't be more simpatico. See, we have so much in common. And yet—and I'm just being honest here—I feel like taking that espresso handle that you keep banging against the counter and knocking our your front teeth. But that's probably just because I haven't had my coffee yet. And that is, after all, why I came in here."
Sound familiar? Hell, yes. It's happened to most of us once or twice, here in Beantown
. But did Katz get crabby in Portland?
We can't say for sure, though we have a call in at Esquire. We'll let you know if they call back.
UPDATED: David Katz responds, "To answer you question, the rant was broader than one specific establishment, but I'll say this: I have indeed been to that Stumptown—extremely lovingly prepared coffee they've got going there."
Thanks, David! Guess we aren't crazy, after all.
Photo by flickr user Biskui, who has a damn good eye for color.