Espresso Roma Café, Liquid Culture

Location: The Hill, Boulder Colorado

Let's begin with what the signs suggest on both store front walls of this corner café:

“Espresso Roma Café”-

This name denotes the owners desire to make people think of their café as rooted in the quintessential tradition of the eternal city. Scooters, hand gestures, spaghetti, and Audrey Hepburn are readily accessed and projected from our cache of American-harbored stereotypes. This coffee must be wonderful if it is from Roma, right?

“Liquid Culture”-

A phrase meant to further insinuate that within the café is practiced the art of infusing, incorporating, and presenting espresso that is essential to Italian culture. Or, perhaps it's meant to suggest a certain camaraderie or sense of community bustles inside this great corner café and overflows out on to the tables and chairs in the fenced-off patio outside.

Alright. We're set up. We are now envisioning this
little piece of Italian paradise right smack dab in the middle of little 'ol Boulder Colorado. Now let's walk inside. Reality bites us in the ass much the way the serpents of Poseidon do Laocoon and his sons in their frozen agony inside the Vatican museum. Instead of being greeted warmly with the pleasant aroma of delicious delicious coffee, we are accosted with the smell of a fellow who gave up personal hygiene for lent three years ago. We are acknowledged, less than hospitably, by a poor young woman who is most certainly impoverished beyond our understanding so that she can not even buy a shirt suitable for covering her belly that slides sweatily across the counter repeatedly as she works. Dedication to the cause prevents us from stumbling back out across the completely destroyed and grimy wood floor, and we order the single-shot cappuccino we came for.

The Cap

The order being placed and the wasted $2.50 transaction having been completed, of course the remaining 50¢ being deposited on the tip plate, we take a seat at one of the 5out of 6 open tables inside the cafe and begin to take notes. A psychological phenomena of snobbish consumerism ensues. The forthcoming cappuccino is going to be terrible. It doesn't matter if it actually is or is not, it's going to be. Even to a fledgling connoisseur of this vast world of refined vice, the entire experience has been ruined. This is just another, if not less than the standard, college town coffee shop. As we hear the milk being un-ritualistically slaughtered in the background, we discuss the obvious aforementioned shortcomings of the shop. The drink arrives and I think to myself, if this cup smelled of lavender I might just get in and soak for a bit. The foam would easily make a wonderful bubble-bath. I do my best to be fair and take a sip. Expecting a rather cleansing acid wash to flow over my tongue I am almost pleasantly surprised to find the espresso, with only a mild burned flavor, only slightly abrades my palate. I express the predictable dissatisfaction, we leave the cup half full in the bus bin, and take our leave.

Thank god that is over.

And as we walk down the street to our next destination I sigh and remark, “I need some water after that....no wait...whiskey.”

The Re-Cap

• Price: $2.50

• Presentation: Terrible. Broken cup, no saucer, no spoon.

• Proportions: hard to tell. 1 inch layer of bubbles moot the point of proportions

• Taste: Espresso un-remarkable. Milk nearly turned and burned.

• Atmosphere: Dirty

Overall: Caffeine administration device. Good for masking the alcohol/puke taste in your mouth as you take the stumble of shame home after a night you'd rather forget.