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Rochambo: it's not just a coffeehouse, it's a linguistics seminar!
My favorite of the definitions: A dish served in New Orleans consisting of seared chicken breasts served on holland rusks with sliced ham, brandied mushroom veal sauce and sauce Bearnaise. Yum!
A place this busy should, by rights, be rolling in dough—and maybe they are. Yet, they have the different kinds of sweetener in clear “ketchup” bottles, like the tzatziki at Oakland Gyros, so they must not be able to afford sugar shrinkage. Unfortunately, the under-21 demographic isn't a very wealthy one.
Perhaps the real reason why almost any “grownup” coffeehouse becomes so unpleasant for customers anywhere close to closing time is that the under-21 barista is getting ready to come here. The most effective way to avoid being given that glare that tells you you're getting in the way of the barista's plans is to go the place where those plans may well be.
The guy here is being sold on a multilevel marketing business. No! Don't do it!
The featured coffee is Sumatra, and it's the first I recall having in a Starbucks store that didn't just taste like the dark roast (there's the Espresso Regalo, but as far as I know, they don't brew that in the stores). Evidently, the featured coffees are the same in all local Starbucks locations, but I'm not sure how often they're rotated, whether it's daily or weekly.
I'm at the bustling Caribou on Highway 100 and Bluemound Road. I can't emphasize how much untapped coffeehouse business there is out here. This place closes at 10, but could easily stay open an hour or two later, judging from the substantial 9:51 crowd. Unfortunately, coffeehouse operators are afflicted with a bad case of East-Side-opia. Caribou, by not having this store stay open 24 hours, is missing out on the opportunity of a lifetime. What's that stock price again? Less than a large Latte . . .ouch.
Rochambo. Perhaps the only coffeehouse
with population control issues? (“If you want to sit upstairs, you
have to buy something.”) Did I just post something about how coffeehouses should be as warm and inviting as bars?
The people watching here is very good, perhaps too good. The picture here is actually from Saturday night, when a group of young ladies placed their order at the counter before heading upstairs. One lass in particular caught my eye with tapered jeans tucked into boots--almost like '80s irony. Cue George Costanza voice: "There was eye contact. . .there was DEFINITE eye contact!!" One of her friends looked like a younger Eve Ensler, star of, well. . .a play I hope to catch again very soon.
Tonight, I'm trying an Irish Coffee, which seems to be the drink of choice around here. This was my drink of choice for a good couple of years, and I remember the going rate back then to be about $4.50. Rochambo has $6 posted on the menu, but for some reason, they only took $5 from me.
Yesterday (Christmas Day), I reverted to an error that I often made as a child: thinking, if only for a moment, that the new year had begun. In my family, festivities--read: presents--centered on Christmas Eve, so as far as I was concerned, the year may just as well have ended then. The day after always felt like it should belong to the new year. Even now, the last week of the year feels odd. It's kind of like when a shacked-up couple breaks up, but there's time left on the lease and neither person can afford to pay double rent.
In that light, I'm already thinking ahead to 2008 and starting my New Year's Resolutions:
1.) In this major election year, if I attend a church and hear the congregation being told how to vote, I will notify the authorities and tell them that the church should be stripped of its tax-exempt status.
2.) I will spend a good chunk of the summer hanging out on Alterra on Humboldt's patio (pictured here).
