This is my beautiful latte from Star Lounge on Chicago Avenue. They serve Dark Matter Coffee which they roast themselves at their small facility on the West side of the city (right by my apartment!).
Living in Chicago has launched my coffee snobbery into the stratosphere. And I have no shame about that.
Alright, sometimes I'm a little ashamed.
I feel bad bugging the servers in all the restaurants about where they get their coffee beans. But I'm curious. And I know what I like. When we live in a city that has no fewer than five local coffee roasters, why would you get your coffee beans shipped in from anywhere else? It only makes sense to support your local economy and get the freshest product available for your customers.
I recently had some family come to stay with me and while we were downtown, we happened upon this little bakery on State Street. Their sign said "Magnolia Bakery, New York City" so, naturally, they got their coffee beans from the Big Apple. While I understand that they are going for a theme, here, I still walked the block and a half to Intelligentsia to get my local Chicago coffee fix. Partly because I know that I love their product, and partly because their storefront at Randolph and Wabash is so hip it hurts.
There are a few other local roasters that I have yet to explore:
A new, no-nonsense roaster in the River West neighborhood as of June 2012
Another new roaster that popped up this spring. They don't have a storefront, but have made their way into many local cafes and bakeries already.
Local cafe and small roaster on N. Western Ave. that has been around for a while but I have yet to become acquainted with.
Before your write me off as irredeemable, there's an exception to my coffee snobbery!
Dive diners. They get a free pass.
I still have a special place in my heart for crappy diner coffee. It really doesn't matter where those beans come from, they always tend to taste like they've been filtered twice through an old gym sock. And that's the way I like it. It makes me feel connected to the generations of impoverished artists and travelers who have gone before me.