Confession

Dear reader, forgive me for I have sinned. I broke my vow and went to Starbucks last Sunday.

After a late Saturday night dancing to Smash-Up Derby, I woke up needing good coffee stat. The Starbucks across the street from my apartment was like a siren call drawing me in. One expensive cup later, I felt guilty and cheated. Guilty for breaking my vow in a few short weeks and cheated because my tall mocha was weak. That kick of caffeine familiar after many a morning spent waiting on line at Starbucks was muted by well, who knows? The local water? Not enough beans?

Now that I know that Starbucks coffee is just as blah as coffee from other cafés, I am no longer tempted to spend my renminbi there. I did cave and buy a Bodum french press. I just need to find good quality beans preferably from a non-Starbucks location. Where oh where to find this in Beijing?

Addendum: The best coffee in New York is from Gimme Coffee in my opinion. If you find yourself on Lorimer Street in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, do buy yourself a cup. It's money well spent. Mmm.

American Coffee from Nowhere

Climbing the stairs to my hotel's Nowhere Café, I realize that I am an idiot. While I've been drinking the hotel's complimentary watery brew for the past two weeks, there was decent coffee to be had a mere floor away. IDIOT.

It's not an amazing brew, but I do feel my brain and nerves tingle a little in response to a cup. Good to know that I have a nearby option for my remaining days here.

The Swedes Come Through

Next stop on the coffee search: Ciao Coffee Bar on Wangfujing.

I broke down and stocked up on canned coffee last week. It's crap stuff and not worth reviewing here. So when I spotted Ciao in the lower level of the Oriental Plaza Mall, I felt that I deserved splurging on what I hoped to be good coffee. A large cup, which is roughly the size of a Starbucks' tall (smallest size), costs twice as much as a small bowl of soup noodles at a fast food joint. It better be good!

Sipping their "favored in the South of Sweden" Skane Exclusive, I finally felt that lovely rush of caffeine. Sweetened with just a touch of sugar, this dark roast hit the spot. Oh my, oh my, real coffee tastes so good after a week of hotel coffee and whatever that stuff was that came out of a can.


You bet I savored my first cup of damngood coffee in this city. I sipped slowly out of that paper cup for an hour while reading and watching people browse the shops around me. Draining my cup, I skipped outside into the freezing sunny weather satisfied and properly caffeinated.

Coffee, Pretty Please

I have one addiction. Coffee, that sweet dark ambrosia, kickstarts my day with a lovely rush of caffeine and helps bring the world in focus for me. Well, it did until I moved here. My access to good, strong coffee has been severely curtailed since touching down in Beijing.

Air China's coffee tasted like weak instant Nescafé. The hotel where I'm staying serves marginally better coffee, but my body fails to register that delicious click of awareness that coffeeshops back home serve me. It looks like coffee. It tastes like weak coffee. But three shot glass-fuls later, still no effect. What gives?

While I know the local Starbucks will have the dark roast which I love, it will be a fun challenge to see if I can find nearby options that can compare to that international chain's offerings. The search continues. Wish me luck.