Thing 150: Politics and Prose

"We're going to have a reading tonight," Colson Whitehead told those assembled. "It will be fun, edifying, and very, very post-black." He gives the final two words grave emphasis. The audience laughs knowingly, because they all read the New York Times Review of Books religiously.

Welcome to nerd paradise. I am right at home.

Politics and Prose is indeed a paradise for bookworms and intellectuals, an oasis in the dry landscape of chain bookstores. This is among the last of the feisty breed known as the independent bookstore, and one of the reasons they stay relevant is by hosting really excellent authors of both fiction and non, on a regular basis. They also have a great, great selection of books (hard for me to not buy everything I lay my eyes on) and a cafe downstairs. I can't speak personally for the coffee or food, but the coffee in the audience smelled amazing, which is a good sign.

I was excited to be there to see Colson Whitehead, and author I much admire, in particular for his first book, The Intuitionist, which I still think about when I'm in an elevator. In a rather slim novel he spun an alternate reality in which elevator inspectors formed a brotherhood, an exclusive clique, and the two competing schools of inspection were at constant odds. It sounds convoluted, even silly, but the end product was a rich and beautiful metaphor for race in America.

Now he read from Sag Harbor, his newest book, and what he calls "autobiographical" (not quite an autobiography, and certainly not a memoir. As he told us in answer to a question I asked "It would be so easy to write a proposal if I was in a plane crash and had to eat the other people I was stranded with...So, when something real happens in my life, I'll write a memoir, but until then, I have to rely on other things."). Dressed in skinny, skinny hipster jeans, a vest and a tie, and long, thin dreadlocks, Whitehead kept us rapt and laughing, alternating between his strong, poetic prose, and his side comments that kept us laughing, especially his "VISUAL AID."

If you caught his piece of short fiction in the New Yorker, that was a chapter excerpted from the book. It's about a group of black teenage boys, who vacation on Long Island during the summer, spending the weeks by themselves while their parents are working in the city. They get into various shenanigans. That's about it. "You may have heard in some reviews," he told us, impishly, "there's not a lot of plot. Not a lot happens. Just like in Ulysses, by James Joyce. Except my book is shorter, so there's that."

He read two sections from the book, one about the glory and progress of frozen foods, the other about the haircuts his main character received from his father. What I was most struck by, which had escaped me when I read The Intuitionist, or Apex Hides the Hurt, or his short fiction, is that Colson Whitehead writes poetry. His words are forceful, each individually chosen for meaning, layers, sound, tone and cadence. When he reads, he reads with the crescendo of a poetry slammer, each line building and then abruptly fading away. Having written it himself, he is uniquely aware of the invisible line breaks, the ones that had to be sacrificed so his novel could be "fiction" and not "poetry." This is what's lost when reading is done silently, and to oneself. The beauty of the book reading is to hear the words spoken out loud, and learn something about the book, and the author in the process.

Related: Tony Bourdain reads from No Reservations and All Aunt Hagar's Children by DC's own Edward P. Jones

Thing 101: Baked & Wired Revisited

It's Cupcake Madness! Click here for the bracket and the judging sheet. Check out previous contenders Red Velvet, Couture Cupcakes, Cakelove and Hello Cupcake.

It is no secret that I love Baked & Wired. When I visited it almost exactly a year ago I wrote:

This is one hell of a cupcake, the frosting sweet and flavorful without hurting my teeth, the cake moist and rich while still maintaining cake status and not veering into brownie territory.

I have been a fervent admirer ever since.

As per the bracket, we ordered two "control" cupcakes (vanilla cake with chocolate icing), and then a strawberry cupcake made with real strawberries, and a red velvet cupcake.

It's the cake. The cake on these guys is so incredibly good. I think oftentimes people focus on the icing, and don't get me wrong, I really love icing. But in the focus on the icing, people neglect the cake, and the cake is the hard part. Really good cake, dense, with a good crumb, flavorful and also moist -- it's really hard to pull off. And Baked & Wired pulls it off, and then some! The icing is really good too, but the magic is in the cake.

Did my team agree? Baked & Wired got the highest score for cake almost across the board, and scored above average on icing, amount of icing, value and size. The creativity scored average. Comments included "great cake, icing not so much, not so creative," "poor selection of flavors," "real strawberries, red velvet is amazing!!, it's the cake," "great control, rich flavors," and "like the strawberries."

The composite score: 4.1. 4.1!! 0.1 less than Hello Cupcake! What an exciting match up, a nail biter to the end! But Hello Cupcake squeaks by the the Fabulous Four, and will face off against Georgetown Cupcake next! Who will win the championship?

Two years ago: The Hawk 'N' Dove.

Thing 143: Hello Cupcake

It's Cupcake Madness! Click here for the bracket and the judging sheet. Check out previous contenders Red Velvet and Couture Cupcakes and Cakelove.

Helloooooo Cupcake!

This small shop on the south side of Dupont Circle is delightful. Delightful!

We ordered two 'control' cupcakes (vanilla cupcake with chocolate frosting), the "heart of darkness" (devil's food with chocolate ganache frosting and chocolate chips), tiramisu (espresso cake with mascarpone frosting, dusted in cocoa), "you tart!" (lemon cake with an insane lemon cream cheese frosting), and oh dear God, the "velvet Elvis" (banana cake with peanut butter frosting). This was also the only cupcakery that we visited that regularly bakes gluten-free cupcakes, and also vegan cupcakes, although we didn't try any because we do so enjoy butter and white flour.

My first thought, when I was looking at the cupcakes, is that this is what cupcakes are supposed to look like. These are stereotypically the ideal cupcake -- small cakes held in paper, frosting swirled high on top with little sprinkles or candies on top. Then the taste. These taste like the ideal cupcake. It's the ideal frosting to cake ratio -- vanilla and chocolate in perfect, complimentary quantities, the cake light, the frosting thick, all different tastes and textures at once.

Then, the specialty flavors. "You tart!" was palest yellow, sour and creamy at once, ridiculously good. Heart of Darkness was super rich, almost like a brownie mixed with fudge. But the velvet Elvis. Without ruining the outcome, the velvet Elvis was the single best cupcake I ate on the crawl. And apparently, they only bake it on Mondays and Thursdays, so plan your visit accordingly. But all these cupcakes were marvelous, I think you can't really go wrong at Hello Cupcake.

These cupcakes scored above-average in all categories, but got especially high marks for frosting, amount of frosting and creativity. These were also the cheapest cupcakes we ate, at $3 a piece, and scored high on value as a result. Comments from my team included "really good," "big cake, big frosting," "you may do me on this cupcake," "the peanut butter banana was unbelievable...doable," "nice amount of frosting," "best aesthetic so far," and "prettiest cupcakes, banana peanut butter is amazing!"

The composite score was a 4.2 -- a solid lead above Cakelove and a strong competitor in the Western bracket. Can it beat my personal favorite though, Baked and Wired? Who will advance to face Georgetown Cupcake in the Fabulous Four??

Happy 2nd blogiversary! One year ago: One Year, One Hundred Things, two years ago: the mission statement, Wonderland trivia, and Cowgirl Creamery.

Thing 142: Cakelove

It's Cupcake Madness! Click here for the bracket and the judging sheet.  Check out previous contenders Red Velvet and Couture Cupcakes.

Cakelove was the original.  Before cupcakeries were a dime a dozen, before Sex and the City made cupcakes flirty and commonplace, Warren Brown had a dream.  He was a government worker, droning on at a job he didn't like, and during his free time, he was baking cakes.  His coworkers reaped the rewards of his after-hours experiments as he adjusted butter and sugar levels, coming up with perfect butter cream and seductive, layered combinations.

Now, Warren owns six Cake Loves, the Love Cafe, is a minor local celebrity and even has his own show on the Food Network.  He is a pillar of the business community.

But can his cakes compete??

I had my doubts.

Truth be told, I don't much like Cakelove cupcakes anymore.  Sure, there was a time in my life when I asked a coworker to drive from Fairfax to U Street to pick some up for my birthday.  And when I was a having a quarter-life crisis I gave very serious thought to taking Warren's offer of a minimum wage job just to learn the secrets of good baking.  I still think his cakes themselves are about the best in town (that chocolate/vanilla/raspberry/butter cream/ganache monster being my favorite).  But the last few times I tried his cupcakes...well, they were dry.  I thought the cake was dry, and the frosting was fine, but not great.  

I don't know if Warren has re-calibrated his cake recipe, or if Cakelove was just having a good day, but when my team came to evaluate the cupcakes for the bracket, they were good.  Really good.

As per the bracket, we ordered three "control" cupcakes (vanilla cake, chocolate frosting), as well as one salted caramel cupcake, and one maple butterscotch.  Cakelove uses a very traditional butter cream, and I had to restrain my team from eating the cupcakes right away -- the frosting needs at least 20 minutes to come to room temperature or it just tastes like butter.  

But once we cut in and tasted, we really liked them!  The cakes were more moist than I remember, and the frosting, though not particularly thick, was rich and well-flavored.  The maple butterscotch in particular was a big hit, though I was partial to the salted caramel.

At $3.25, these were priced about average, and were average-sized.  Overall, these cupcakes scored above-average on cake, size and amount of frosting, with average or low scores for icing and creativity.  One person even checked the 'yes' box on the all-important "this cupcake makes me want to say 'do me on this cupcake'" criteria, a sentiment we all came close to sharing. 

Comments from my team included "do me with butterscotch," "maple butterscotch very good, salty caramel good too," "maple butterscotch almost 'do' worthy," "control - buttery, cake good, maple butterscotch - incredible, best yet," "did not like it," "big, but control was too buttery,""pretty good, almost do me good," and "cake moist!".

The overall score for Cakelove? A 3.6!  0.5 points more than Couture Cupcakes!!  Cakelove advances to the Tasty Two!!  

Who will make it from the Western Bracket??  Check back to find out!

Thing 141: Couture Cupcakes at ACKC

It's Cupcake Madness! Click here for the bracket and the judging sheet. Check out previous contender Red Velvet.

Artfully Chocolate Kingsbury Confections (ACKC) sells local cupcake brand Couture Cupcakes, which are, as the name might imply, rather fancy. So fancy in fact, that we couldn't order a control cupcake (ie, a vanilla cupcake with chocolate icing). Did this set Couture back? Not necessarily. But my team is hard to please, and once again their socks were not knocked off.

This time, absent the control cupcake, we ordered a vanilla cupcake with pink cinnamon icing, a chocolate cupcake with raspberry frosting and two chocolate cupcake/brownies with whipped cream and caramel.

The vanilla and cinnamon one ended up actually being my favorite of the three -- the icing was light and airy, a highly whipped cinnamon-flavored buttercream. The chocolate cake with raspberry struck me as too sweet, and the chocolate brownie one was dense and rich -- delicious, but not a perfect cupcake, more like a good brownie. Also, at $3.65 these were the most expensive cupcakes on our crawl.

Comments from my team include "too sweet, icing was light and delicious," "cinnamon was the worst, they got better," "don't like cinnamon, the chocolate and raspberry was dry," "didn't like choice of flavors, but liked chocolate/caramel," "liked the cinnamon frosting, cake was moist for vanilla," "prefer cake type and icing type," "enjoyed chocolate caramel," and "eh..." These cupcakes scored low on value and size, and earned slightly above average marks for cake and icing.

The overall score was a 3.1 -- 0.6 more than Red Velvet! Couture Cupcakes advances to the Fabulous Four, set to face off with CakeLove...

Thing 101: Baked & Wired

I strolled through Georgetown yesterday afternoon to do a little shopping, and hopeful for the first time in months that Spring might actually be nearby. I strolled up M street to Jinx Proof, then back down towards home, window shopping and popping into clothing stores. The walk had made me hungry, and the afternoon just begged to be a long and lazy one.

Many thanks to my friend Tim, who long ago had urged me to check out Baked & Wired, a bakery and cafe near his office that he frequents. I turned off M Street and onto Thomas Jefferson, leaving the Sunday crowds behind me and sought out the tiny shop for an afternoon pick-me-up.

The shop consists of a handful of tiny rooms -- a counter in one room that sells savories and coffee, an counter in the other room with sweets and a cashier, a tiny room with a handful of seats and some crazy looking local art on the wall, and a copy shop, Zap, in the very back of the store. The decor is spare, with a lot of unfinished surfaces, silver and black, and dark wood coffee tables. As the name implies, the store offers free wireless to patrons, and for those of us a bit more low tech, free newspapers and magazines to leaf through.


I was hungry for lunch when I arrived. Baked & Wired naturally excels at baked goods, but they do have a couple of savory options. I went for the 'manly quiche' which had sausage, bacon and leeks (the femme version was a vegetarian spinach/tomato deal). The egg custard was so soft and silky, with big, manly hunks of sausage and salty-sweet bacon. The crust, clearly homemade, was buttery and flaky. I was off to a good start.

I ate in the small seating area -- there's not much room to sit, just a spare room with a couple black leather easy chairs and an angular leather couch, along with a small, skinny bar along wall where you can perch and eat. I ate my quiche, and read a couple chapters of my book. And then, like a good little girl who had eaten her vegetables (or at least, sausage and egg), it was time for DESSERT.


The woman who owns Baked & Wired, a woman named Teresa Velasquez who owns the shop with her husband, makes all the sweets from scratch, just like her grandmother used to make. In fact, anything named after Karen is named for Teresa's grandmother, using the good old fashioned recipe. Beautiful, simple cupcakes, pies, cookies and fruit bars sit under glass cake tops, row after row of them, on the counter. They all look so beautiful it's hard choose, but eventually I settled on the "Karen's Birthday Cake" cupcake. Named after Grandma, it's a chocolate cupcake with a vanilla butter cream frosting and a small sprinkle of bright pink, pig shaped sprinkles just to liven it up. I order a cup of coffee to go with it, return to me seat, and sink my teeth through the thick white frosting, into a dense, chocolaty cake. This is one hell of a cupcake, the frosting sweet and flavorful without hurting my teeth, the cake moist and rich while still maintaining cake status and not veering into brownie territory. The strong, slightly bitter coffee rounds out the sweetness, and what a perfect mid-afternoon snack.

Unlike Georgetown Cupcake, which had a line around the corner when I walked past, this sweet spot in Georgetown is friendly, accessible, and still under the radar. Don't tell anyone.

One year ago: Wizards' Game!

Thing 97: Duplex Diner

Today's episode is brought to you by the letter "M".

On Monday, I drank a margarita and ate macaroni and cheese and meatloaf and mashed potatoes.

Detecting a theme? On Mondays, the Duplex Diner marks all its 'm' items half price. So the margaritas, merlot, mashed potatoes, macaroni and meatloaf are half price! Here is our half priced mmmmeal:


It seems a hodgepodge of things, but in the end, it all came together deliciously. DC365 cannot dine on samosas, faux gras and raw bar alone, and sometimes I just want home cooking without the dishes piled up in the sink afterwards. The meatloaf was simple, beefy and juicy, and delicious topped with tomato sauce. The mashed potatoes were so creamy I had to verify that they didn't start out as flakes. The mac 'n' cheese was the real winner, in my opinion. It came served in a terrine enough to feed two people (though somehow I managed it on my own) -- penne in a thick, bubbling cheese sauce with crispy brown parmesan topping. Both entrees came with green beans, and we even ordered a salad on the side to try and counteract the onslaught of cheese fat, but we still left the table too full and overly satisfied.

The Duplex Diner is a little bit diner, a little bit bar, a little bit gay club. The service is friendly, and our host for the evening was smokin' hot (and dating GFD, with whom I was having dinner). Located at the crux where Adams Morgan, U Street and Dupont come crashing together, I highly recommend it for a bite to eat or a drink before going out, or some delicious home-cooked 'm' items on a cold Monday night.

Join me over at the Cork & Knife, where I've started writing a weekly food column! This week: Buttercup soup with black beans.

Thing 79: Teaism

How do you know it's NaBloPoMo? Because you find yourself waking up early so that you can go out to breakfast on a weekday.

I love Teaism. I really dig its Asian-inspired attempt at a little serenity, adjacent to a Starbucks. Their food is fairly healthy and simple, they sell beautiful tea-themed gifts, and as the name implies, they stock a vast quantity of teas. Their salty oat cookies are locally famous and even made it onto the list of scavenger hunt items (five points). But perhaps Teaism's greatest claim to fame is when our fair lady of the Food Network, Rachel Ray herself, ate breakfast at Teaism while in DC on $40 a Day. Never mind what Bourdain would say of this.

I followed in Rachel's footsteps this morning, when I found myself at the Dupont Circle location, hungry for my breakfast. Like their lunch menu, there is a mix of Asian and subcontinent flavors, along with some humble American favorites -- scrambled tofu, scrambled eggs with cilantro, chicken sausage with naan and raita, sourdough waffles. Their lunch menu is similar, ranging from organic turkey sandwiches to a selection of bento boxes, Thai curries and ochazukes (Japanese rice and tea soups).

I stuck with what I'd probably have eaten if I'd stayed at home -- Irish oatmeal. Though I have been topping mine with pumpkin butter, this one came studded with raisins and dried apricots and sweetened with honey. I ordered a steaming mug of chai tea, which tasted like honey and cinnamon, and came served in a really handsome, square, black ceramic mug.



While waiting for my breakfast, I wandered over to the shelves of small gifts -- beautiful candles, books about tea, and tea bowls and pots handmade by a local ceramic artist. There's also little stacks of salty oat cookies wrapped in cellophane for quick purchase and discreet devouring, and bags of ginger scone mix. In other words, enough to start a Teaism in your very own living room!

I took my breakfast upstairs, to the empty dining room (the Starbucks next door was hopping though, which makes me a little sad) and ate my oats and nursed my delicious chai. The dining area is simple and serene, with Asian inspired black and white photography, rustic looking exposed beams, a low ceiling and cream colored walls. (The Penn Quarter location has a downstairs dining area with real coy goldfish in a small pool. I've never been to the downtown location).

Then I bundled back up and headed to work, one more Thing down, and 21 to go. Suggestions?

Thing 77: Olsson's Books and Records

I needn't have panicked, of course, because in this city, great Things are happening every day.

Take Olsson's Books and Records shops for

example. They have author events, signings and readings going on nearly every day. There is likely to be something that will please everyone in any given month, and for me, that something was Anthony Bourdain. Live, in the flesh, and telling it like it is.

Most people don't know this -- in fact, I don't think anyone knows this -- but Bourdain is one of the three people that spurred me to start this blog in the first place. I'd just finished reading A Cook's Tour, and was struck by his narrative style, his knack for the travelogue and the casual, humorous and honest ways he looked at food and travel. Unfunded by cable TV, I don't the means to do what he does in quite the same way, but darned if I couldn't write a fantastic travelogue about the city I'm in love with, which I am lucky enough to experience every day. (The other two people were Molly, and the Boyfriend, if you were curious).

So Tony holds a special place in my heart, even though he would probably ruthlessly make fun of me if I ever had the opportunity to tell him so. At 11:45 I ducked out of work and took the bus to Chinatown.

I was not the only one with this idea. By the time I rolled in, a few minutes after noon, I couldn't even find a place to stand where I could see the man. It was like Bourdain Radio, with a view of the backs of people's heads.


But I could hear his voice, and what a voice he's got. I suppose he wouldn't be a successful author if didn't have a distinctive voice, but having now heard him live and off the cuff, I can vouch that he speaks with the same snarky bluntess that he writes with and that pervades all of his TV appearances. He's half jerk and half best friend, heaping honest praise on those that deserve it, and mercilessly ridiculing those that deserve it, too.


Bourdain on vegetarians*: If you are priviledged enough to be one of the few people who is even able to go to Thailand and you don't eat everything in sight, it's not just rude, it's dumb. It's like going to a museum and saying 'I only want to see the paintings in blue and red.'

On which Food Network chefs are worth their salt: Mario. Mario is a behemoth. He knows everything, about everything. Those are cloven hoofs he's got hiding in those plastic clogs.

On which Food Network chefs are not: People would complain if I went on TV and told all the kids at home to listen to Judas Priest records backwards, and then go into the woods and slaughter goats. But that's what that Sandra Lee is doing! Putting spray cheese on a Triscuit and telling people it's a healthy, homecooked meal for their families -- it's the same thing.

On why his show is no longer on the Food Network and on Travel Channel instead: They came up to me and said, "We want more BBQ shows. Our audience doesn't really get this thing you do where you go to other places. They don't do subtitles. But our grilling shows get huge ratings. What if you went to different tailgating parties instead?"

On whether he ever gets sick from the foreign food: Most of the times that I've ended up with my head in a bidet some place foreign, it's been alcohol related.

On where he plans on eating dinner that night: Ben's Chili Bowl. Ground meat of unknown origin? How can I say no?

Olsson's has a pretty strict system for getting books signed. You have to a) buy the book that day, at Olsson's b) then they will give you a numbered card and c) then you wait in line based on the number of that card. I was still on my lunch hour, so I ducked out shortly after his talk, but I did manage to sneak up to the front and get his picture as he was signing. Skinny black jeans, boots, dark shirt, silvery hair. He looked tanned and a bit gaunt, just like on TV, but, you know, in three dimensions.

For those of you who want more Tony -- he'll be at Lisner tonight, though it's sold out, and from his lips to your ear he'll be at Ben's tonight for dinner.

*These quotes are from my memory, as I wasn't taking notes or recording it. I'm a blogger, not a journalist!

Thing 74: Misha's Coffeehouse and Coffee Roaster

Piano jazz is tinkling out of the speakers in the corner. The air is rich with the burnt toast smell of dark roast coffee. Tribal women drumming in thick gold frames stare down at me from bright yellow walls.

I am at Misha's, with a latte and a crossword puzzle on a chilly Saturday afternoon.

Like all the best coffee shops, this one is quirky and community-oriented. A mix of the neighborhood pops in for hot drinks in the cold weather. At the tables sit students and families, a man studying poker, old friends catching up. The two people next to me are discussing their blogs, which I'm now blogging about. In a cute twist on the community bulletin board, a 1950's non-functioning refrigerator sits by the door with community announcements taped to it, like the proud pop quiz of a child.

At the front of the store, customers are greeted by a long counter with large glass jars filled with different varieties of roasted coffee beans. The menu is spelled out above the bar in refrigerator magnet letters. Those big, blocky, multicolored magnets that are impossible to read. But once you've deciphered the menu and placed your order with the nice young women behind the counter, you are handed a cup of what Misha's boasts is "the best coffee you'll ever have."

I'll bet murky would disagree, but it is awfully good coffee. My latte is rich and satisfying, without any bitterness, and the foam is thick and velvety, surpassing its lot in life as skim milk. My beverage isn't a work of art, but then again, I guess it is not necessary for my coffee to win a beauty contest.

When ordering, I was distracted by a covered dish of the most beautiful cupcakes I've ever seen. They are iced to look like flowers, a bouquet of little cakes. Unfortunately, I've just come from working at the chocolate shop, so I'm plenty full of sugar. I pass on the cupcakes, but my eyes feast on them while I linger at the counter. I'm guessing it's not every day that someone asks to photographs the cupcakes, and the woman behind the counter tells me that they're made locally. Just some guy who makes the cupcakes in his kitchen and delivers them to Misha's, along with the coffee cakes. Sir - if you are reading this, you are truly an artist.

With latte in hand, I wander into the green room to my right. It's a smoking room, which manages to completely disorient me, so used DC's smoking ban am I. It takes me a solid seven seconds to realize what that smell was, that there were ashtrays on the table and that, oh yeah, this is Virginia. Luckily, the smoking room is closed off enough from the rest of the shop that the smoke is non intrusive in the rest of the cafe.

I wander back into the main room, painted the shade of egg yolks, and take a seat at a small white marble table. I take out the crossword and get down to business. I stay for only an hour, watching people come and go, and then finish up my latte and leave the warmth of the shop for the cold outside.

Thing 54: murky coffee

This was breakfast Sunday morning:

Sunday morning at murky coffee on Capitol Hill. Ben Folds singing merrily on the stereo. The happy chaos of a coffee shop, the calling of drinks, the whir of milk steaming, the click of the espresso grinder's lever and the dull thud that empties the espresso holder after a shot has been pulled. The aroma of truly fresh, complex, bittersweet black coffee.

murky is a community gathering place.

There is a screaming toddler, his mother consoling him. There is an ancient, disheveled-if-not-homeless woman, with a bag of nick knacks, who shuffles slowly, so slowly, between her seat at a table, and the water pitcher on the counter. Students with laptops are using the free wi-fi. Fitness folks fresh from the gym, still in sweaty gym clothes. And then me, meeting a new friend for coffee before we explore the sensory delights of Eastern Market.

I order a classic cappuccino and a scone. The shop is filling up, and I snag a seat at a table for four that is occupied already by a father and his young daughter. The girl, her skin the color of the latte her father is drinking and blue eyes searching everything curiously, is asking her daddy why mommy isn't there with them. "Because you kept her up all night! She is home sleeping." He gently chides her. She sips from a small paper cup of steamed milk, until, urgently, she informs her daddy that she needs to go. Now. He scoops her up and runs to the bathroom with her.

It takes awhile for my cappuccino to be ready. They don't hurry coffee here. I'm in no hurry, either. I nibble my cranberry scone, reading about world history and salt. My friend has been delayed, but on a lazy Sunday it's hard to get anxious about time.

After about ten minutes, my coffee order is up. May I draw your attention to the exquisite detail of my cappuccino?


murky baristas compete in nationwide barista competitions. They are repeatedly proven to be the best barristas in the metro area, the mid-Atlantic, the East Coast. It shows.

Care and passion has gone into every drop of every drink served at murky. Their training process is rigorous. They have partnered with a roaster in North Carolina that allows them to guarantee that no coffee served in the shop has been roasted more 14 days before. They are obsessive about where their coffee comes from, how it was grown, how it was procured and how it tastes in your cup. They have thought about everything.

And so I enjoy my cappuccino, savoring it slowly, sip by sip. You know that dry cappuccino foam, where you feel the bubbles on your tongue, and you never understood why people even like this drink? Forget it. Leave that memory behind as you drink milk foam that is thick, rich velvet on the tongue. It mixes with the dark bitter coffee, no sugar necessary, slightly sweet in its own right. Yes, this is what all of the fuss is about.

Like all the very best local, independent shops, murky cares about the product and the process in ways you just won't find at the bigger chain stores. The familiarity of a Starbucks logo in a strange city has its place, but it can never compete with a small local enterprise that cares about the quality of its coffee to an obsessive degree.

Sooner or later, my friend arrives. She orders the same thing, and we are equally taken with it. We laugh, loudly, as she tells me she may write a book, and I tell her chocolate angel food cake and buttermilk pie. Our laughter mixes in with the buzz of the shop, the sounds of Sunday city living. Everyone in the place enjoying the very best cup of coffee they have ever had.