twisteddog Anonymous

Great. Cafe Brazil's coffee might be even worse than Nodding Dog's.

3 months ago ( Link to this comment | Suggest removal )

twisteddog Anonymous

Sure. Why don't you go do PR for Cafe Brazil since you like them so much? I've had several cups of coffee at several Cafe Brazils and it's always been uniformly sucky. I give them props for consistency. You don't even want to know about my last time there.

3 months ago ( Link to this comment | Suggest removal )

jtmbls Anonymous

Oh yes we do. I am pretty sure that's what she meant by anecdotal evidence.

3 months ago ( Link to this comment | Suggest removal )

jtmbls Anonymous

I don't think he's been to Cafe Brazil. In fact, I don't think he's ever had a cup of coffee...anywhere.

3 months ago ( Link to this comment | Suggest removal )

twisteddog Anonymous

OK, OK. But I warn you this is one of the most horrifying coffee stories you’ll ever read.

On a weekend morning about two weeks ago, I woke to the realization that I had no coffee in the house. This immediately soured my mood, but consciousness generally does that anyway.

No prob, I thought, I’ll just walk to my locally owned coffee hut, Café Brazil, two blocks away on Greenville Ave. I didn’t care about my previous experiences with their weak, stale coffee and styrofoam to-go cups, this was an emergency—and I sure as F wasn’t going to haul my ass all the way to sbux.

I swallowed my low expectations, grabbed the dog and the keys and headed out. Once inside, I saw the place was full-ish. Not packed, because it never is, but there were far more tables occupied than the two or three on any given weekday. A good sign, I hoped, because the coffee would at least be plentiful and fresh since that’s what the breakfast-eaters demand most.

Up at the self-serve coffee bar, I eyed the line of thermal pump carafes, which are stacked two rows deep, a primary spigot in front and one in reserve. I grabbed a foam cup (I can’t find my re-usable at home, so don’t even comment) and tapped the first unflavored pot: Nothing but sputters and air.

Not good. I looked for somebody to change out the pot with the reserve. The cute, always black-clad and tattooed waitresses all seemed to be hustling tables, so I asked the guy standing directly behind the coffee bar if he could help me out. He was wearing a white, but really more gray and multi-stained, T-shirt that proclaimed, “Café Brazil. Not Just Another Coffeehouse.” So my choice seemed reasonable.

“Hey, this one’s empty,” I pointed out to him.

He thought for a minute (or at least I think he was thinking) and said, “Huh. Try the one behind it.” He pointed to the reserve.

OK. I can switch out a pot for myself. I used to work in restaurants, so I’m familiar with that kind of process. I put down the cup, grab one pot and put it behind the other where it’s no longer a reserve. I didn’t think they’d let me into the kitchen.

Take two: I pump the new pot. And what streams out looks like pee. Not just ordinary pee, but the kind from a well-hydrated individual. On the plus side there’s steam, so the stuff appears to be hot.

Reluctantly I look to the guy in the T-Shirt who’s still standing there. “Dude, this stuff is pretty weak. Look, it’s yellow.”

“It’s probably the machine,” he says, stupefyingly. “There’s nothing I can do about that.” He rubs his chest with a meaty hand and just stares at me.

I don’t really want to expend the effort to get into it with him about how anti-customer service his answer is. I’m kind of grateful he’s not picking his nose in front of me. So I ask if there’s another unflavored pot of coffee somewhere.

He motions to the end of the long row of flavored coffees. I trudge down there, past a line of people hoping to get a cup of amaretto-walnut—whatever but only receiving the horrible sucking bubbling sounds coming from the pots. It’s a gauntlet of despair.

At the end of the row, I push past a few people who’re staring ruefully from their empty cups to the unflavored pot. Holding my breath, hoping against hope, I press the lever. Gurgle. Gurgle, gurgle, gurgle. Nothing.

I don’t even ask, I just switch out the pots. Not really caring anymore, and thinking I should’ve just walked the mile to sbux, I finally hear the sound of coffee hitting cup. It’s brown. Well, kind of brown. It’s my last option, so maybe my mind’s playing tricks on me.

Mr. T-shirt wanders down from the other end of the row and asks, “How’s that? Is everything all right?”

Too bad I already put the lid on the cup. “It’s slightly better than the sh*t that was in the first pot,” I say and walk out. I was frustrated, and I think that’s what made me forget to drop my two bucks in the bin.

3 months ago ( Link to this comment | Suggest removal )

chasd00 Anonymous

I'm moving to Oak Cliff in a couple of weeks.

:fingers crossed: for a second Murray Street Coffee location.

3 months ago ( Link to this comment | Suggest removal )

Fezziwig Anonymous

Twisteddog, you are a really good writer. I loved "gauntlet of despair" and "well hydrated individual."

3 months ago ( Link to this comment | Suggest removal )

jtmbls Anonymous

No easy thing to make a cup of coffee so entertaining. I was on the edge of my seat.

3 months ago ( Link to this comment | Suggest removal )

twisteddog Anonymous

Gracias.

3 months ago ( Link to this comment | Suggest removal )

dbridges Anonymous

Had proper investigation been done, the store has a sign up that states they are closed Sunday - Wednesday nights during the summer. As to not answering the phone on Wednesday morning, maybe they were busy serving coffee during a rush? Morning? coffee? hmmm. Nice report, Ms. Gubbins. not.

3 months ago ( Link to this comment | Suggest removal )

WhitneyTM Anonymous

This is actually quite sad. I hate to see independent coffeeshops go down in Dallas. There are so few. Nodding Dog was a fun location, had a nice space, friendly staff, and I never had a problem with the coffee, but then I live too far to try it on a regular basis. I wish I could open something in that adorable spot. Plus I know tons about coffee. Maybe it could be just me and a french press? Cash only?

I do agree that Cafe Brazil is in no way a coffeehouse - please, those beans must sit there for months. And all those ridiculous flavors? Sheesh. Get a milkshake if that's what you want.

3 months ago ( Link to this comment | Suggest removal )

dbridges Anonymous

ok ok...I apologize! I was just up there on the 7th in the afternoon working and there was no mention of closing or anything. I've known Darren and Gus since the Dog opened so it surprised me that they closed it that quickly without notifications. Sorry Teresa. I take back my snarky comment about your reporting.

2 months, 4 weeks ago ( Link to this comment | Suggest removal )

eengwall Anonymous

Perhaps the closing has something to do with the Dallas constables who came in a couple weeks ago (unexpectedly for the customers, perhaps not so much the Nodding Dog folks)? Us mediocre-coffee loving patrons were quickly ushered out by staff, informing us that they had to close for the day. Inquiring minds wanna know.

2 months, 3 weeks ago ( Link to this comment | Suggest removal )

THE Anonymous

The folks at Nodding Dog were friendly, but the place was in need of a makeover. Working in Bishop Arts, I welcome Cafe Brazil. It's not quite the premium coffees I'm use to getting in LA, but the food is tasty and I space clean and well appointed. I'm more interested in seeing the right tenant go into the Nodding Dog space. I think the area needs a really good bakery/coffee house or a chic wine/video bar.

2 months, 3 weeks ago ( Link to this comment | Suggest removal )

Allen28 Anonymous

Hey what is going on next to the trailer park off of Ft. Worth Avenue down past the hotel belmont? Hmmm very interesting.

2 months ago ( Link to this comment | Suggest removal )