The Caged Tiger

With a day to myself in Pittsburgh, I realized I had a relatively shortlist of things to do/see whilst in town, most of which consists of gawping at how gentrified some of the various neighborhoods have become. And I say – bring it on! After all, only the presence of an American Apparel store in Oakland can prevent further devastating ‘white-flight,’ even though the thought of Pittsburgh without white folks is about as unthinkable as Boston without crippling, mind-numbing pretension.

And so much for all that. As the above paragraph may indicate, I’m rather tired. So tired in fact that I’ve spent a fair amount of my time today, aside from the gawping – seriously? How’d they turn the Cathedral of Learning white? The damn thing was as black as the Tower of Mordor (or something) the last time I saw it – drinking coffee. And as I’m about to attest, the overwhelming powers of the evil gentrificationeers (or gentrificationistas, or gentrificationoes, or something) have done little to mitigate the underwhelming quality of coffee this town has to offer.

Starbucks, 210 6^th Avenue

Description: Seattle based coffee chain that, for a brief period of time right around when comedians were crafting jokes around “You’ve Got Mail,” was shaping up to be the second most successful capitalist enterprise known to man, right after McDonalds. Unfortunately, two decades of automation, middling roasting and freshness standards, not to mention full financial backing of every ‘indie’ music excretion to come along since Wilco (‘Sky Blue Sky’ rulez!) have forced Sbux to suffer the Krispy Kreme-like indignity of shutting down some of their approximately 2 billion stores.

Drink: Tall coffee. Actually, I really only wanted a place where I could check my phone without attracting creepy stares.

Staff: Chubby blonde farm-girl, probably a part-time student at Duquesne or one of those. Pleasant demeanor if giving off the slightly glassy-eyed dimness of most modern-era Starbucks employees. In short, as good as it gets.

Verdict: One of the other chubby blonde farm-girls working behind the counter misheard my order for a ‘tall coffee’ as a ‘grande’, so I was upgraded in size for free. Coffee was good enough, as all filter coffee should be, with no distracting tastes or flavors. Actually brewed fresh, a rarity for Starbucks filter coffee.

Grade: B+

Beehive Coffeehouse, 1327 E. Carson Street

Description: Bloated so-quirky-it-hurts coffee shop in E. Carson Street that has yet to be completely absorbed by South Side works strip mall, Beehive is the favorite hangout of the unappreciated Pittsburgh unwashed since before flannel was worn ironically. Beehive may well have started out as a hipster wet-dream – hell, there’s bad art everywhere, mismatched chairs, coffee mugs with snarky slogans, vegan snacks and tofu sandwiches that smell vaguely of mold – and they probably fancy themselves an anti-Starbucks: there’s even one right across the street to enforce the contrasts. But let’s be honest kids – Starbucks would never have gotten to where it is if it didn’t offer the people what they wanted, if only on some vaguely Mephistophelean level. And Beehive has definitely embraced some of the megachain’s ethos (isn’t that a brand of bottled water? Never mind), no matter what the sweaty skinny-jeans wearers would like to believe. Just look at the t-shirts for sale on the wall, the suspiciously clean floors and lamps that aren’t spattered in spilled coffee and dotted with burns from clove cigarettes. The toilets don’t even stink of stale urine, feverish masturbation, and loneliness. Stinky, stinky loneliness.

Drink: Small skim latte

Staff: Pissy, preggers hipster of advancing years. Was distracted folding napkins when I came in and stood at the counter. I was in no rush to order, so I stood patiently waiting for her to notice me. When she did, she fixed me with a look that had the kind sunny demeanor and warmth not seen since the Hell’s Angels worked Altamont. Maybe it was the fact that I was out and walking around before 10 in the morning that made her suspicious, or possibly it was my choice of the day-old turkey panini versus the day-old tofu panini for my breakfast. I didn’t take it personally in any case: god knows I hate to wake up at 7:30 for work, just like anyone.

Verdict: Under-extracted shot and indifferently steamed milk (using the ‘auto-steam’ method, again reminiscent of Starbucks) unceremoniously dumped in a mug with a sarcastic quip printed along the side. Below-average taste, quality and texture. Maybe if I were wearing a studded belt the coffee would’ve been better made, but it’s unlikely.

Grade: C-

Second Shot: Beehive has free, unlimited wifi, and due to my own personal, strict, fair-use policy, that translates to buying at least one coffee for every hour of free internet used. So, I bought a second small skim latte, this time from a bearded, heavily pierced lad of diminutive proportions and an infinitely cheerier demeanor than pissy-preggers. He actually made an attempt to correctly steam the milk and pull a decent shot. The resulting coffee, though still not up to my epicurean (read: prissy douchebaggery) standards, was still a damn sight better than the first, bumping Beehive up a solid grade. I’ll probably go back there again later today.

Grade: B-

Kiva Han, 3553 Forbes Ave

Description: Local, blandly hipsterish Pittsburgh based independent. More along the lines of socially acceptable/ethically aware quirk than Beehive – they’re apparently in love with the dirt-poor brown people who grow their coffee, and would like you to be, too. Doesn’t produce the same the gut reactions as either of the other two cafes reviewed, but that’s probably the idea.

Drink: Small macchiato

Staff: Twenty-something douche in skinny-legged, acid washed jeans. Wouldn’t stop surfing the internet, even after I placed my order. Acid washed. Douche. Douche!

Verdict: Crap. Under-extracted shot, shitty, scalded milk with the texture of styrofoam, and the espresso had all the flavor of an off-brand Chinese chocolate bar left in the near vicinity of a puddle of lukewarm, bacteria infested Yangtze river water, probably a result of using a pitcher that hadn’t been washed out since the last over-sugared drink was inflicted upon an unsuspecting customer.

Grade: Fuck this place.

Second shot: the Kiva Han at S. Craig street fared slightly better. At least the barista was attentive, and made a show of washing out the milk pitcher before beginning to steam. The result was a smoother texture to the milk, but it still was one of the worst coffees of the day. Why does this coffee taste so bad? Oh right, Fair Trade beans. I wonder – is it a rule that any bean that has the Fair Trade certification automatically taste like Beezlebub’s post-burrito squirts? Maybe Kiva Han should skip the ridiculous damn Fair Trade certification (every halfway decent coffee roaster in America already pays well above the Fair Trade price for their beans anyway, including Starbucks, so what’s the point?) and focus on making coffee that doesn’t taste like bowel movements.

Grade: D+

Conclusion: I’m really not that hard to please, no matter what you may infer from the above. As long as you pretend to give a damn about the customer, and pretend to give two damns about the drink you’re making (like I have to do, every damn day, with customers who aren’t 1/50^th as polite or as well tipping as I am) you’re aces in my book. No one in Pittsburgh, so far, has shown more than two of three of the damns required for a good experience. For some reason, the economy has been brutally kind to Pittsburgh, so maybe the influx of cash will one day have an effect on the quality of coffee. In the meantime, Beehive will remain my coffee-shop of choice in the Pittsburgh area. Sure, the staff, drinks and food are all hit-or-miss, but hey, it gives you the quirky-coffee shop experience without worrying too much about lice on the seats or contracting hepatitis from the mugs. And that, in my opinion, is a worthwhile experience. Plus, free wi-fi.