Coffee Beans at Home, episode 1

With the days getting colder and colder, G and I are becoming more and more reluctant to leave home in the evenings. And so I have devised a few additional stops along the Coffee Beans Trail, very conveniently located in our own well-worn out armchairs (they are from the peak of the Communist era, from the deep and dark cave of the 1970s, so we like to pat their frayed edges and crevices, and call them vintage).

So I figured that in times when you're too scared to blink outside for fear that your eyes freeze shut, we'd use this cosy corner of our flat as a funky cafe (complete with a screaming parrot eyeing us from the kitchen counter), and a testing ground for whatever ideas we could further explore in a real cafe of our own one day... As we indulge ourselves in treats to ease ourselves into winter, I shall pass on to you whatever it is that our taste buds say!

The December special of the Frayed Armchair Cafe can only be one thing:




Gingerbreads! They are all made from the same dough, but I swear that hearts and teddy bears taste best of all.

A while ago we also received samples of Douwe Egberts coffee, so we gave it a go to see how it would get along with a crunchy browned pal as a sidekick. Using our professional cafe equipment, we fixed G a strong espresso from the Black variety, and I got a fluffy chocolate-freckled latte from the Gold variety.



The coffee is a steady, delicate flavour, very smooth on the palate, and as such, makes for a very good morning latte (particularly the Gold variety, which is more mellow), or a really solid basis for your syrup-infused coffees. And it is certainly the best you can get in its price range on the Polish market (11 PLN, 2.5 EUR). However, I must say that fans of rich aromas will not find this coffee particularly remarkable. It lacks in this wonderful quality that good coffee shares with wine; that it can open up, sip after sip, giving up nuances of its flavour.

But then, it turns out that a mild coffee like this stands up very well to an experiment for which, I believe, I would be publicly shot in some coffee-worshipping countries. I mixed up a small dose of it with ground cinnamon, brewed a nice cupful, and smothered it with fluffy milk. It tasted divine! I never thought it was going to work, I somehow imagined that the cinnamonny flavour wouldn't quite brew through. It did! And yes, I will probably be trying to cinnamon-up everything I try all throughout the season.

A Sip of Something Else

Every Saturday morning, as we sit down to breakfast, G and I get carried away and spin a story of what a glorious life we would live if only we could move out of Warsaw to a small town. Slow mornings, your own little yard of herbs, and an apple orchard, friendly shop owners, little vegetable stalls at the marketplace, merry plump-cheeked neighbours waving good morning.

Yes, our idyllic tale always has all those necessary ingredients, and in our little fantasy world everyone living in the middle of nowhere has a job that makes them flush with excitement, cows and horses never poop in the street, and market grannies never try to screw you over when selling their agricultural produce. But, it is very easy to be seduced by a beautiful vision like this when your local grocery store is a giant Real supermarket, where a plain quest for a baguette takes you through a maze of mayonnaise stacks, discounted boy shorts, and, around this season, jingling reindeer and farting Santa figures.

Thus, G and I decided to stray away from this messy chaos, and look for some more local experience somwhere not too far from where we live (if it was to be local in the real sense of the word!). And what better place to stray into than a lovely little street two metro stops uptown from us called Meander Street? We walked up and down the specialty shop-lined pedestrian lane, quite astounded to have found a place like this in our very own district. As we strolled in, they were just putting up strings of Christmas lights between the street lamps. There is a lovely fruit and vegetable shop, a wine shop, a pet shop, a watchmaker's, second-hand boutiques, and at least three butcher's. And amidst all this sits a place whose name very aptly summed up everything that it was for us on that day.

Lyk Optymizmu, or A Sip of Optimism, is a tiny cafe of no more than 5 tables. As you head towards it, on a cold winter day, the bustling street around it will make you feel like you have just entered Dickens' Christmas Carol, and the feeling is suddenly amplified once you step inside the place. D-Ding!, goes the bell above the door, and you immediately warm towards the place.

Whitewashed walls, warmly lit cabinets crowded with cups, coffee jars and tea cans, and an invitingly long counter, at which you will always see locals inquiring after the cafe's apparently famous homemade cakes. On the day we visited, they just began taking in orders for Christmas cakes and cookies, and a bunch of grannies were sitting flustered over a list of possible options. If you get lucky, you might even spot a very glad little girl watching her favourite Scooby-Doo episode on a portable DVD player. We had that luck!

We took a long while at the right-most section of the counter, which displays the fresh baked produce of the cafe. The cakes of the day included, among others, hot apple crumble, traditional cheesecake, and a layered jellycake. After some deliberation, we opted for a chocolate crumble-topped cheesecake and a banana cheesecake, accompanied by our usual set of double espresso and latte.

Yum! I don't think I can possibly tell you how delicious the banana cream cake was. It is light and fluffy, not too sweet, and generously sprinkled with white and milk chocolate shavings. And all this for an incredible price of 5 PLN (1.10 EUR), a price unthinkable in any of the coffee chains in the city centre. Only a few cakes on the menu at Lyk Optymizmu cost more than this, so you will find it hard not to order any sweet accompaniment to your coffee main course. My latte (6 PLN) was fluffy & delicious, and G gave definite thumbs up to his double espresso (9 PLN).

The little star-shaped cookies you can see beside the drinks are a staple of the place. There is always a full basket of these homemade delights just beside the cash register, and they are priced at only 1 PLN (0.25 EUR). If G and I ever have the luck of running our very own cafe, I will make it one of my priorities to add such a lovely treat to every coffee free of charge. They're easy to make and taste wonderful, but most importantly, there is something about their shape and size that makes you feel all cosy and at home. Isn't it funny how one little cookie can determine your impression of the place? I certainly know that we will be spending more Saturday mornings over those crunchy bits of homely spirit. Yum!

Lyk Optymizmu
Belgradzka 46/10
Natolin, Warsaw

Coffee: 4 beans
Ambience: 5 beans
OVERALL: 4.5 beans / 5

Lente, or Dutch Springtime Amidst Polish Autumn

It is unavoidable... not me forgetting my blog although I might be sweeping it under the rug, so that it doesn't annoy my eyes with the appallingly old date of the last post!), but the fact that autumn is slowly creeping into Warsaw. Much as I dislike the morning chill, there is something so very dignified about this time of year.

Maybe the fact that, like nothing else, it makes you aware of the earth rolling in its' track, and the sheer inevitability of it all. It is like a ritual dance that the Sun and Nature dance before your eyes every year. Sensing the impending departure of the Sun, Nature is a woman about to be abandoned by her lover. She strips slowly of her lush summer vestige, and for a brief while, she is more beautiful than ever before, illuminated by all the shades of golden, brown and ruby. But her efforts are all in vain; in the flicker of an eye, she stands bare of all her lavish glory, and crumbles; a naked skeleton of an old love nest. Mercifully, her bare bones are wrapped in a soft blanket of snow. It drowns all sound, and she can sleep in silence for months, until she is reborn again in her full splendour, when the Sun returns.

What an epic tale! No wonder that G and I decided to follow up on this epic spirit and venture onto the one street in Warsaw where one certainly gets the genuine feel of an epic tale:


Winnie the Pooh Street! It is here, right off the busy swarm of Swietokrzyska / Nowy Swiat, that you find an unexpected leafy cul-de-sac, with exactly one lovely cafe sign, a colourful promise on a grey autumn afternoon.

The story has it that the place was established by two Dutchmen who chose the glamorous city of Warsaw for their place of residence. Lente means "springtime" in Dutch, but the word evokes other pleasant associations, such as the Spanish lento, "slow", which makes you immediately think of a fantastic afternoon spent lazying around over a cup of fabulous coffee. Unfortunately, as we were to find out, in this particular case the word would be more indicative of the quality of the service, which was, how shall I put it, improbably slow? I know that a great many people would run and complain, but on that particular day, in that particular place, I was enjoying the slow pace. It was a lovely neighbourhood, and the wind was blowing a whole new season into the city. And G and I had all the time in the world.

Dodging the crowd of four dread-locked chain-smoking individuals whose egoes were, unfortunately, sprawling all over the comfy-looking upstairs, we made ourselves at home at a simple round table on the ground floor. Knowing that the place enjoys quite a reputation among the locals, I was surprised to have all the place to ourselves. However, no sooner had we sat down than the place started filling up. As our neighbours, we had an elegant female patron who could equally well have been a corporate lawyer or a porn star. Her long, skin-tight boots ended where her ultra mini-skirt began. She was clearly enjoying her pick, which was the creamy soup of the day and pink wine.


Behind us, we had an endearing spectacle that I always love to watch. A wrinkled elderly couple, accompanied by their walking canes and big glasses, carefully going through their menus, and finally settling on two pots of different teas, as well as a small plate of cheese appetizers. I always smile watching old people who still have it in them to enjoy the small pleasures of life outside of home.

We started off slow, with our classic set, double espresso and large latte. Then we spotted in the menu just the perfect accompaniment for our starter pack: since Lente is a Dutch joint, they will happily treat you to stroopwafels, thin waffles with syrup filling. Yum and warming, thanks to the cinnamonny-nutmeggy aftertaste.


They took a long while to arrive, but I had something to busy myself with in the meantime, as Lente has a rather short, but intriguing menu of sandwiches and wraps with various fillings. I went for the Avocado Wrap, which was an enticing perspective of all my favourite ingredients put together: avocadoes, smoked salmon, feta cheese, and fresh basil leaves.


G was seduced by a Tuna Wrap, and after a rather lengthy while, which was enough to send his tastebuds trembling with expectation, he was informed that unfortunately, there was no tuna in stock. At the same time, we heard disgruntled whispering from the Grampa Table. They placed their order for appetizers long before us, but were too polite to complain properly. It only took my wrap arriving ahead of their much earlier order for the Grampa to raise his voice in a shy disapproval. The waiter and the waitress, who were the only staff on board that day, were quick to inform him that apart from waiting the rooms, they were also in charge of the kitchen for all food orders, as the chef had not shown up on the day. Lento, lento... Just how many more similarities are there between Dutch and Spanish eating out?

However, this is not a strict food writing blog, nor it was meant to be. Service is slow, and the chef sometimes doesn't turn up at Lente. But it does have a certain aura of unwavering cheerfulness, space for slow and thoughtful enjoyment of what the day might bring. Maybe it was the Grampa Table, the crumby sweetness of the stroopwafels, or the green mosaic tiles in the bathroom? I will be happy to give Lente another chance, and see how it can help us ease into autumn.

"The longer you spend awaiting the future, the shorter it is going to be."

Lente
Warecka 8/30a (entrance on Kubusia Puchatka)

Coffee: 4 beans
Ambience: 3 beans
OVERALL: 3.5 beans / 5

Going Lokal (na)

Last week, we consulted my pocket map of noteworthy coffee hangouts, and decided it was time to venture into the depths of Mokotow! So we strolled through the lovely district, passing by charming pre-war villas, and not-so-charming post-war blocks of soc-realist architecture. On a sunny day, even the grey bits manage to look as if imported from somewhere in Southern Europe.
Well, almost. Among this plethora of colourful and old things sits a cafe, which, as I have been informed by different internet forums, boasts a somewhat cult status among the locals. It might be for this very reason that it is called Lokalna, meaning precisely local.

Encouraged by the generous ratings, we arrived, weary from the walk in full sunshine. Quirky, is the first word that comes to mind when you take in the establishment. It made me think a lot of Pedzle i Szczotki, the main hero of the previous post. Similarly, Cafe Lokalna seems to be occupying a spot which in the past must have been some kind of a store. If it wasn't for the maroon marquee and the small sun deck outside, we could have missed it altogether.

The decor inside is almost too simple, devoid of any kind of consciously styled decoration. When aiming for plain decor, it is always difficult to balance the degree of simplicity to avoid making the place unspirited, unwelcoming. Cafe Lokalna is saved by the row of old books and knick-knacks lining the inner windowsill, which makes it look homely and cosy.

But, this is the only good, of things, that mine and G's palates have to say after a visit to this establishment. The maroon-clad menus look impressive, offering a staggering selection of summer and winter drinks, ranging from innovative creations, such as ice cubes of mint tea with honey and lemon, to twists on classics, such as coffee coke. The blackboard inside announces daily specials; on the day of our visit, one of which was Leek and Camembert Quiche. Yum! Now, this is really cruel of the folks at Lokalna - first they set your imagination going in expectation of the sensual feast to follow, only to disappoint you greatly when things do arrive at your table.

The mouth-watering combination of leek and camembert on crusty dough was little less than a microwaved yesterday's bake, with soggy base and inappropriate steaming hot interior. While G's coffee was served with a gingerbread thin of similar quality; and the coffee completed this Rather Hopeless Trio.


I opted for one of the fancy cool creations from the menu, described as ice cubes of green tea, topped with honey and mint. What I got was a mildly chilled mixture liquid, green tea with honey, all frothy for some mysterious reason about which I was scared to enquire. Ah, so very disappointing!

Let me quote mine and G's favourite dinner companion as of recent, Gordon "Yes, Chef!" Ramsay, whose ramblings we love listening to at dinnertimes - "All of this was absolutely ghastly!" We felt we needed to make immediate amends to our palates, and so we dashed around the corner to the legendary ice-cream parlour of Malinova, which saved our day, and which will be the subject of an altogether new post.


Cafe Lokalna
Kwiatowa 1/3/5 (enterance on Rozana)
Mokotow, Warsaw

Coffee: 1 bean (a very crumbly bean it is)
Ambience: 3 beans
OVERALL: 2 beans / 5