CI mea culpas
October 5, 2005 – 10:54 ami take back everything snarky i ever said about nick cho. the plodding podcasts might glaze the eyes a bit, but cho’s joint on capitol hill is one for the books. any die-hard knows this, of course. the refresher course i got was the lesson that, in one’s vain attempt to find something tasty about the legion of promising-but-alas-inept cafes one visits on a regular basis, there’s almost a tendency to think you may have (at last!) found a good double macc, but are actually deliriously mistaken. the taste buds are trying too hard. let’s call this ‘barista handicapping.’ and there’s only one surefire way to call this bluff on yourself: taste the real thing!
the patrons in murky coffee seem to know they’ve got the real thing. and, stunningly, despite the apparent recent weddedness of 2004 southeast barista champ ryan jensen, he was on duty. not working the bar, though, but shivving ice, scoping others’ shots, etc. *sigh* it happens everywhere: the top talent gets pirated for management positions, leaving the customers with the greenies. solution: reverse talent handicapping! no, really, i dunno.
wife had the caramel (cough) breve (cough), with latte art. made her smile. i had the double macchiatto. the barista poured a mushroom on top. made me smile. they use, apparently, counter culture’s toscano blend — its most italian trait being its ability to slice through milk like the grim reaper on ‘the clear.’ it was easily one of the top two or three drinks i’ve had from a commercial establishment (i, admittedly, have not been to mecca). very sweet and sharp — dark chocolatey, with walnuts and a syrupy buttery liveliness. stop me now.
p.s. this joint being on capitol hill, and my van and trailer being loaded with so much delaware loot from the grandma’s move that the ball-hitch threw sparks in a peacock-tail every time we hit a corner, it was an ample commitment to veer off the pike-o-dementia, down pennsylvania ave., to within blocks of the big dome, just for a double macc. and of course there was no parking. i was about to cruise the block again, looking for that impossible three-spot gap into which i could pull my train, when it occured to me. duh. i’m towing a trailer. loading zone, please. slid right in. nice fellow helped block traffic when i needed to get out. pulled a u-turn on pennsylvania across seven lanes of traffic. was back on the homeward track in minutes. who knew the capital elitists had spent so much dough on the architecturally subtle baltimore-washington parkway? i highly recommend it.
