The Arbor Lodge - Raising the coffee bar and bringing the community together

If you are an avid Portland coffee drinker or a regular reader of this blog, you know that you can find good coffee in most parts of the city. Downtown, Southeast and Northeast PDX are hotbeds for great coffee. Northwest has its share too, as does North Portland to the east of I-5.

But what about far-out North Portland, west of the interstate? Can you find good coffee up there? It turns out you can, and you don’t even have to look too hard. After a little exploration yesterday, I found a brand-new place at the corner of Interstate Avenue and Rosa Parks Way that is worth visiting. The Arbor Lodge just opened this week, and it is going to raise the bar for what passes as quality coffee in that part of the city.

When you walk in, you first notice the smell of fresh paint and varnish, as the café fixtures are all new. In its previous incarnation, the building was a struggling-to-survive mini-mart. Scott Davison, the café’s kilt-wearing owner, has completely transformed the building into a coffee shop, though he did not do it by himself. Friends from around the neighborhood helped, pitching into donate their carpentry, painting, washing—whatever they could to support his efforts. Thank you notes are situated around the café, acknowledging people for their help in getting the café off the ground.

The first thing I did, as I am wont to do, was quiz the barista about the espressos. The café had two different single-origin espressos available, both roasted by Coava. There was a Nicaraguan coffee called Bella Aurora and a Costa Rican coffee from Finca Zarcero. The barista described them as having similar profiles, with the Costa Rican being “brighter” (both “tasty,” of course). I elected for the more northern of the two. The shots she made me were consistent, with a distinct tanginess and notes of walnuts and toffee.

Everything seems new (because it is)

I sat down to chat with Davison, to find out more about his shiny new café. He began by explaining why he opened a café in the first place.

“I see coffee as a medium,” he told me. “It gives people in the community an opportunity to come together in a neighborhood that doesn’t have that many options.”

The café is named after the Arbor Lodge neighborhood where it is located. Davison explained, “We called it that because we really wanted the shop to be a part of  the neighborhood.”

Scott Davison, the owner

Although this is his first time owning a coffee shop, Davison is not completely new to the coffee industry. Originally from Olympia, he spent two years working for Starbucks, back in the days when the company still had manual espresso machines and a more coffee-focused business. Several of the friends he grew up with ended up getting into the coffee business in one way or another, so opening a shop seemed natural to Davison. He already has a popular food cart downtown, Give Pizza a Chance, and he felt like his experience running that would translate well to the coffee shop.

When I asked about his vision for the future of his new café, he said that he would like to “serve the best cups of coffee in town, without any attitude.”

Davison emphasized the importance of combining great coffee with friendly service. “Even if the coffee is excellent, if you come in and have a bad experience, you’ve had a bad cup of coffee. You can’t have one without the other.”

Beyond having great coffee and service, Davison also hopes to see the cafe become a place where the neighborhood gathers together. The café space will be available to rent out in the evenings for community events and activities. Multiple times he said he would like it to be a place where Arbor Lodge residents seek out each other.

Gratitude

When residents do come, one feature of the café they will notice is its unique tables. Fashioned out of a 114-year-old deadfall Sitka spruce, the tables are made from massive slabs of natural wood. Davison hired someone to cut the sections, then he and a friend attached the legs and finished the tops. Looking at them, you can imagine the once-mighty spruce towering over an Oregon forest.

Keeping it close to home, the Arbor Lodge Cafe features local pastries (Nuvrei), art (right now it’s from Jolby & Friends, a design firm in Portland that also did the café’s branding) and teas (Foxfire). To make sure you feel like you are visiting a Portland coffee shop, there is a retro olive green couch and a patch of black shag carpet at the back of the café. Throw in the carefully-roasted coffee from Coava, and residents of the Arbor Lodge neighborhood (and anyone venturing to this part of North Portland) have a new meeting place, a namesake they can call their own.  

Vitals
Address: 1507 N Rosa Parks Way, Portland, OR 97217 (map)
Phone: 503-289-1069
Hours: Monday-Saturday 6:30am-6pm
            Sunday 7am-5pm
Coffee: Coava
Free Wi-Fi? Yes
Recommendations? If you need an outlet for your laptop, sit near the front
Website: www.thearborlodge.com

Hard knocks - listening to true stories of life at Albina Press (Hawthorne)

The Albina Press on Hawthorne is much hipster than the AP on Albina. Maybe it is the neighborhood, maybe it is the café space itself, or maybe it just happened to be the day I was there, but I stepped inside the café and quickly felt at home in the café.

The coffee bar is unique in its arrangement. Instead of having the bar up against one wall of the café, as most cafés do, at AP Hawthorne the bar is located in the center of the café. The cash register and espresso machine take up two sides of the rectangle, and an L-shaped table for seating form the other two sides. The open space allows patrons to check out the baristas’ operations from all sides.

AP Hawthorne

My espresso, served in a sunny yellow demitasse, was solid. AP is a Stumptown café, and every day I grow more and more accustomed to the Hair Bender blend. If I ever leave Portland, I’ll probably look back with affection on my time in the city, when I could get Stumptown’s tangy, chocolaty blend in nearly every part of the city (I never would have imagined saying that, based on my first impression of the blend, which was not favorable).

Although I did have a couple good shots of espresso while I was at the café, the enduring memory from my visit will be my conversation with “Ron” (not his real name). I was sitting at a window table, writing the next “great American novel” (more accurately, the next CPDX blog post), when to my left, I sensed someone staring at me. For a while, I avoided looking over, but the person didn’t seem to be in any hurry to leave. Finally my resolve to avoid looking faltered and I lifted my eyes from the screen to figure out who it was staring my direction.

A gentleman in his late forties or early fifties, with a round build, a round, balding head and a scraggly beard was standing about five feet away holding a latte in his hand. He looked like he wanted to talk, and I apparently looked like a good person to talk to. Generally, I don’t mind listening to people. A lot of times they just have things they want to get off their chest, and you never know when they start talking what kinds of interesting things you might learn. My only hope is that they don’t end up asking me for money.

Ron’s first question, breaking the ice, was to ask me how to look someone up on the computer. According to him, he didn’t have any computer experience and he was trying to find his kids. It had been about 15 years since he had seen them. He and his wife had divorced years ago (on bad terms, I presume) and he had lost contact with them. Since they were now adults, he could contact them without any legal repercussions.

I vaguely gave him some advice on how to use Google, unsure if it was any of my business to help him find someone who had not seen him in over a decade—someone who might not want to be found. I thought that my advice would be the end of our conversation, but I was wrong. Ron was looking for someone to share his story with.

The story he told me was a sad one. Ron had been in the Navy for 12 years, and while he was there he met his wife. They married and had two kids, but then he had an accident on duty and his injuries made it impossible for him to perform his service, so he was discharged. His wife stayed in, and was deployed to the Persian Gulf during the war to liberate Kuwait. While over there, she fell prey to loneliness and the temptations of war, coming back pregnant with someone else’s child. When Ron found out, he “took off his ring, handed it to her and left.”

Out of the service, Ron tried to find a job, but the stress he was under and the alcohol he was drinking (heavily, in his words) weakened his heart to the point of having “four heart attacks.” His condition led the state to take away his driver’s license, making it impossible to keep a job, so he “retired,” going on state disability insurance and VA benefits to support himself. It was during these tough times that under duress (according to him), he signed over his parental rights, agreeing that he would not try to contact his sons until they were adults, with the threat of jail time for violating the agreement. Now that they were both over 18, Ron was hoping to contact them one more time to see if they would be interested in rebuilding some kind of relationship with their father.

It wasn’t easy to listen to the story, as I could imagine some of the struggles he has had over the last decade and a half. He did not seem as downbeat as he might have, though there was a lot of loneliness that came through in his voice. He probably was just looking for someone to listen to him.

During our conversation, Ron pulled out a blue folder and showed me a couple pictures of his sons and some other things that he had in his bag. He also showed me a copy of the birth certificate of one of his sons, his old marriage license and a copy of his VA benefit application from twenty years ago.

The stuff he carried with him was revealing. When our lives are filled with uncertainty, we cling to concrete things from our past that are unchanging—memories, documents and photographs that remind us of times when we thought we had life figured out. When life seems to slip from our grasp, our instinct is to find something to hold onto, an anchor that gives us a sense of stability. This can lead us to hold tightly to possessions that help us feel normal. At least that’s the impression I got from listening to him and seeing his documents.

After leaving the café, Ron’s next stop was going to be the coin store that was next door (he was looking for some collector quarters), and then it was on to the VA and the library. At least that was what he said. You never know with someone like Ron how much of their story is based in reality an how much has been elaborated in his mind. Watching him leave, I could only hope for the best for him as I resumed my writing.

By and large, I enjoyed my visit to the Hawthorne incarnation of the Albina Press. The café is large, with ample seating. You can comfortably gather with a large group or you can hide yourself in a corner with a good book or your laptop if you don’t feel like talking to anyone. Then again, you might find yourself in an unexpected conversation, ready or not.

Vitals

Address: 5012 SE Hawthorne, Portland, OR 97215 (map)

Coffee: Stumptown

Free Wi-Fi? Fast

Recommendations? Sitting outside and enjoying the last vestiges of summer, coffee in hand

Website: nope

TaborSpace - Coffee and Contemplation

Starting on the north side of Mount Tabor, if you were to descend toward downtown Portland via Belmont Ave., you would find at a crook in the road a grand-looking gray stone church with a matching gray roof. The sign in front of the main entrance would tell you that the old building is the Mount Tabor Presbyterian Church, built in 1910. On one of Portland’s gray cloudy days, you might find it hard to know where the church ended and the sky began (which, in a metaphorical sense, is fitting). On a sunny day, though, with the bright blue sky in the background, the 100 year-old church jumps out as a landmark that is worth a second look.

Ever the explorer, you could hop up six concrete steps at the base of the church’s bell tower, through a set of double doors and into a room that might surprise you.

Atypical coffee shop

What is this, you might ask yourself, a coffee shop inside a church?

Yes. The café you would have stumbled upon is called TaborSpace, and it resides in one wing of the Mount Tabor Presbyterian Church. I made my first visit to the café the other day.

Walking in, the first thing you see is a row of small wooden tables to your right, along the wall beneath a row of stained-glass windows. When I arrived, they were full of people chatting over coffee. There did not appear to be space for me to sit down, but I was mistaken.

After the barista greeted me and took my order, she asked if I needed change. I was perplexed—baristas don’t usually ask that question (the only people who do are waiters, and they shouldn’t—but that’s a discussion for another day). After a quick glance at what was inside my wallet, I told her I didn’t.

“Have you been here before?” she asked.

“No,” I replied, not knowing any better.

“We operate as a non-profit,” she said, “so we only take donations. You pay what you want to and put your money in the box. We have suggested prices up here [pointing at the menu board behind the counter], but you don’t have to follow them. If you want to use a card, you can. swipe it and enter how much you want to donate.”

With only a $1 bill and a $10 dollar bill in my possession, I needed some change. The barista cheerfully made change for me from the cash register, and I put my $2 (the suggested donation) into the box while she made the espresso.

The tables were still full when I got my coffee. Looking for somewhere to sit down, I stuck my head around the corner and peered through a set of wide-open double doors. I was struck by the quiet beauty of the scene in front of me. The space was dark, with a mahogany brown color theme. Seeing few people inside, I hesitated.

“That’s the commons,” said the barista, who noticed my questioning look. “Feel free to sit in there.”

Taking her encouragement, I walked in and sat at one of the many tables.

The ‘commons’ is a great space. At first, you get the impression that you are entering a sacred area, a place for contemplation and deep thought. Large, imposing wooden beams hang overhead and brightly-colored stained-glass windows line the walls, adding an air of splendor.  Sitting there, I felt like I should keep quiet, or at least speak in hushed tones.

You don't see windows like this in most cafés

Unfortunately, once the awe of the space wore off, I realized it wasn’t quite as tranquil as I first thought. From a table along the wall, you could hear classic rock music from the café speakers filtering through the doors. Two men chatted across the room in front of a large white hearth. A few minutes later a group of retired men gathered around two tables pushed together and began to talk loudly, their voices echoing throughout the chamber. They looked like a crowd you would expect to see at a local diner, lingering over coffee and telling stories about fishing or home improvement projects.

Sipping a cup of Ristretto Roasters’ Beaumont Blend, I put Bach’s Brandenburg Concerto on through my headphones and got to work. The music helped restore some of the grandeur.

As I sat there, I thought it would be nice if the people would treat the commons more like a library, speaking quietly or not at all. The space is inspiring, and it would make the perfect place to write or to read a book.

However, TaborSpace is a meeting place—a commons, after all—so it is good that visitors feel comfortable using it as such. I just recommend you get there early, before they do.

Vitals
Address: 5441 SE Belmont, Portland, OR 97214 (map)
Phone: 503-238-3904
Hours: Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, Friday 7:30am-4:30pm
            Wednesday 7:30am-9pm       
            Saturday 8:30-4pm
            Sunday CLOSED
Coffee: Ristretto Roasters (pastries by Nuvrei)
Free Wi-Fi? Yes (ask for password) 
Recommendations? Arriving early to take advantage of the quiet
Website: http://taborspace.org/

Nailing the Hair Bender at Coffee Division

Recently, when I visited Coffee Division, in Southeast Portland, I had the best shot of Stumptown’s Hair Bender I have ever drunk. As a general rule, I avoid using superlatives (especially with Hair Bender, with which I have a complicated relationship), but in this case, the shot deserved it. The barista nailed it. The first sip was bright and tangy, as expected. The bold acidity quickly mellowed out into a caramel-berry-chocolate silk finish. It was smooth, and reminded me why so many Portlanders swear by Stumptown coffee.

The barista who made my expectation-exceeding shot was Chris Larson, the new owner of the café. If you live near Mississippi or Hawthorne, you might recognize Larson from Fresh Pot, where he worked for several years before getting out of coffee for a while.

A few months ago, he decided to get back into coffee, so he opened Coffee Division—with a mission.

“I started the coffee shop because I wanted to share my knowledge of coffee with others and feel like I was a part of something bigger,” he told me.

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Rain and shine at the Rain or Shine

On a recent trip to Mount Tabor, I drove by the intersection of SE 60th and Division, where new signs in the window of the corner café caught my eye. Having previously visited and written about Gigibar (the café that used to be there), I decided to go back and learn the story behind the new café, the Rain or Shine Coffee House. When I got there, the February March April May June showers had returned and it was pouring outside.

The first thing I noticed as I walked into the café was the brightness of the space. New hanging globe lamps added to the café’s light, airy feel. Fresh-cut flowers sat on several tables, adding life to the room. Watercolor paintings of flora, fauna and white-washed cities hung on the wall, making me wish I was somewhere on the Mediterranean. Then again, maybe that was just the weather.

A new sign for a new cafe

The new owners, Molly Boyl and Claire Teasdale, went to school together at the University of Oregon. Claire had previously worked in a coffee shop in Eugene, and although Molly did not have much experience with coffee, she said she has enjoyed learning about it. When I was there, the Rain or Shine had only been open for ten days, so they were still getting their routine down.

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