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Date: 03 Jul 2006 17:34:07
From: Cordo
Subject: Should "Cafe" in a name mean something?
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Just curious what y'all think. Today, with my machines down, I tried
another independent place, "Cafe Sensations." I had a very nice salad and
my gf had an egg salad sandwhich, and everyone was nice, but they got pretty
flustered when I ordered a cappuccino. I offered to withdraw the order but
the sweet young woman went over to the machine, and ten minutes later (after
about five minutes of steaming) I got my humungous, scalded, bitter
beverage.
I think places that have "Cafe" in their title should know something about
making an espresso based beverage. Maybe this is wrong. As I drove away
down the block, I noticed another place called "Cafe..." something and
thought of going in, but my gf said, 'They're just a lunch place.'
I suppose "Cafe" just means you serve drip coffee, but I think it ought to
mean something more in the title. Is it just me? I suppose I have to stop
searching for coffee based on "Cafe" in a place's name. How else do you
search? What would you look for in the Yellow Pages? I'm actually
genuinely curious here. Is there a quick way to search on the web for
places which take some pride in serving espresso-based drinks?
C
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Date: 03 Jul 2006 21:29:04
From: Randy G.
Subject: Re: Should "Cafe" in a name mean something?
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"Cordo" <cordoveroRemoveThis@RemoveThisyahoo.com > wrote:
>Just curious what y'all think.
>I suppose "Cafe" just means you serve drip coffee, but I think it ought to
>mean something more in the title. Is it just me?
>
I am feeling creative this evening:
--------------------------------------------------------------
U.S.A. Cafes
by Randy G. ©2006
In the US, outside of the frufru center of any city or good-sized
town, no one would expect to find anything other than a pot of coffee
on a commercial Bunn machine, and it would be considered fresh by its
patrons if it was above room temperature and had less than three flies
floating upon its surface. Cafes are not for those looking for a
dining experience, but for those desiring a quick "home cooked" meals
for breakfast or lunch (for the most part). The meal served could be
compared to the way your mama would make it if she wanted to kill you
inside of the next six months. I do not know when it started, but
"Greasy Spoon," "Truck Stop," "Lunch Counter," and "Cafe" are fairly
well all synonyms in the U.S. in most places.- They are all spelled
differently but all taste the same.
Outside there will be more trucks than cars, and often more
semi-trucks than pickup trucks. The pickups will all have rust, an
occupied gun rack, a Stars and Bars sticker on the rear bumper, a
single stainless-steel, naked-lady mud flap, and one door held closed
by an old leather belt, or in the better neighborhoods, a bungee.
You'll spot the regulars because the oil is dripping into the exact
center of "their" puddle- the recognized and official marking of their
reserved parking place. The police never come here searching for tire
tread matches because not one of the tires in the lot have any
identifiable tread left. They all have dry sump oiling systems because
they have struck the oil pans on so many rocks out on the back roads
that the oil pours out about as fast as you can pour it in. Beyond
that, there is little hope of squelching the deluge of petroleum
because gaskets cut out of corrugated cardboard don't last more than
about a week. They know- they have all tried it at one time or
another. The aroma of raw gasoline wafting about, produced from
leaking carburetors patched so, stands testament to this fact as well
as creating a no smoking zone all understand without the posting of
any signage.
When you first walk into one of these "cafes" the aroma wafts towards
you like standing at the end of a tunnel which is filled with an
onrushing freight train. It is a mixture of undefined proportions of
grease, heat, body odor, and old lemon meringue pie. You next notice
the floor. It will be of a linoleum that reminds you of a 1940's era
schoolhouse with the exception of it having a much higher coefficient
of adhesion between it and the soles of your shoes, making you quite
glad you wore shoes on that day. On the ceiling are the "regulars"- an
uncounted and uncountable number of flies, flitting about giving not a
glance at the various sticky strips hung a decade or more ago in an
attempt to lessen their ever-increasing numbers. The white, hanging
globes containing the lighting of the establishment are working in a
manner that would make you think that some are out on their morning
break. The globes that are illuminated become the display mausoleums
for the flies no longer with us, on display much like Lenin in his
tomb, and equally well preserved.
On a good day someone might point you towards a table, but whatever
the case, be seated quickly lest the door behind you, opened by the
next client, flings you to the floor where you will ten test the
tiles' ability to adhere to your clothing and face.
Upon being seated the waitress comes over, looking like every
stereotype of a waitress that you have ever seen in a movie featuring
such an establishment, with the exception that this one had lost all
sexual appeal well before Nixon left the White House. Her name tag
says "Marge" or "Meg" or something, but you are unsure as to what she
should be called because the tag is so well-worn and encrusted, you
are sure that this one tag has adorned the blouse of every waitress
who has ever worked there, and possibly a few waiters as well.
She hands you a menu, and you peel it apart with a sound somewhat like
that which is made by separating the two halves of a strip of Velcro.
Now revealed is the fare which is proudly served at this
establishment. She asks, "What'llyahaf," and produces a pad and chewed
stub of a pencil from a grease-stained apron. She then signals that
she is ready to take your order by trumpeting a smokers-cough.
The fare is eggs fried in lard, bacon on a griddle in lard, sausages
on a griddle cooked with lard, toast made on the griddle in the
leftover grease from the eggs, bacon, and sausages (the better places
have a toaster that needed a backflushing last year because of the
lard), real butter, biscuits in gravy, whole milk, and don't expect to
see a defibrillator on the wall. Real men perform CPR on themselves in
these places. The language of the menu makes it sound slightly more
appetizing, but no more healthy tha that which was just described to
you herein.
As you wait for your "meal" to be served, you have a quick and
judicious look about. Few of the patrons have all their own teeth, and
the teeth that aren't their own were found on the floor. All of them
will have mono-color tattoos (black), and some of them have "Mom"
spelled wrong, but nobody says nothin' about it because nobody
notices. You briefly think about asking the gentleman next to you
about his body art, but remember the few loose teeth that you trod
upon on the way in and decide not to add to the count.
The meal arrives moments later making it more than clear to you from
whence the original odor of the place was born, as well as to the
method they use to dispose of the excess grease. You wring out a
couple of strips of bacon, and squeeze the excess liquid from the
sausage, and as you are taking lukewarm bites from them you watch as
the liquid on the plate starts to congeal and realize that it is most
likely doing the same thing in your arteries.
The bill is dropped on the table before your third bite, and Marge
walks off muttering, "Willderebeanythinelse?" as she walks away. In
the grease-stained paper you try to make out some of the scribbling
above the printed, "Thank You, Come Again," and you realize that you
may never be able to after this meal. You drop a few bills on the
table to cover the damage, and damage it was, and you head out the
door, thankful that you only live ten minutes away because it means
you probably have time to make it home so that you won't have to use
the facilities at the Cafe.
Welcome to America!
Randy "Call my agent for booking appearances." G.
http://www.EspressoMyEspresso.com
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Date: 04 Jul 2006 05:24:20
From: Alan
Subject: Re: Should "Cafe" in a name mean something?
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"Randy G." wrote
> "Cordo"
wrote:
>
>>Just curious what y'all think.
>>I suppose "Cafe" just means you serve drip coffee, but I think it ought to
>>mean something more in the title. Is it just me?
>>
>
> I am feeling creative this evening:
>
> --------------------------------------------------------------
> U.S.A. Cafes
> by Randy G. ©2006
>
> In the US, outside of the frufru center of any city or good-sized
> town, no one would expect to find anything other than a pot of coffee
> on a commercial Bunn machine, and it would be considered fresh by its
> patrons if it was above room temperature and had less than three flies
> floating upon its surface. Cafes are not for those looking for a
> dining experience, but for those desiring a quick "home cooked" meals
> for breakfast or lunch (for the most part). The meal served could be
> compared to the way your mama would make it if she wanted to kill you
> inside of the next six months. I do not know when it started, but
> "Greasy Spoon," "Truck Stop," "Lunch Counter," and "Cafe" are fairly
> well all synonyms in the U.S. in most places.- They are all spelled
> differently but all taste the same.
>
> Outside there will be more trucks than cars, and often more
> semi-trucks than pickup trucks. The pickups will all have rust, an
> occupied gun rack, a Stars and Bars sticker on the rear bumper, a
> single stainless-steel, naked-lady mud flap, and one door held closed
> by an old leather belt, or in the better neighborhoods, a bungee.
>
> You'll spot the regulars because the oil is dripping into the exact
> center of "their" puddle- the recognized and official marking of their
> reserved parking place. The police never come here searching for tire
> tread matches because not one of the tires in the lot have any
> identifiable tread left. They all have dry sump oiling systems because
> they have struck the oil pans on so many rocks out on the back roads
> that the oil pours out about as fast as you can pour it in. Beyond
> that, there is little hope of squelching the deluge of petroleum
> because gaskets cut out of corrugated cardboard don't last more than
> about a week. They know- they have all tried it at one time or
> another. The aroma of raw gasoline wafting about, produced from
> leaking carburetors patched so, stands testament to this fact as well
> as creating a no smoking zone all understand without the posting of
> any signage.
>
> When you first walk into one of these "cafes" the aroma wafts towards
> you like standing at the end of a tunnel which is filled with an
> onrushing freight train. It is a mixture of undefined proportions of
> grease, heat, body odor, and old lemon meringue pie. You next notice
> the floor. It will be of a linoleum that reminds you of a 1940's era
> schoolhouse with the exception of it having a much higher coefficient
> of adhesion between it and the soles of your shoes, making you quite
> glad you wore shoes on that day. On the ceiling are the "regulars"- an
> uncounted and uncountable number of flies, flitting about giving not a
> glance at the various sticky strips hung a decade or more ago in an
> attempt to lessen their ever-increasing numbers. The white, hanging
> globes containing the lighting of the establishment are working in a
> manner that would make you think that some are out on their morning
> break. The globes that are illuminated become the display mausoleums
> for the flies no longer with us, on display much like Lenin in his
> tomb, and equally well preserved.
>
> On a good day someone might point you towards a table, but whatever
> the case, be seated quickly lest the door behind you, opened by the
> next client, flings you to the floor where you will ten test the
> tiles' ability to adhere to your clothing and face.
>
> Upon being seated the waitress comes over, looking like every
> stereotype of a waitress that you have ever seen in a movie featuring
> such an establishment, with the exception that this one had lost all
> sexual appeal well before Nixon left the White House. Her name tag
> says "Marge" or "Meg" or something, but you are unsure as to what she
> should be called because the tag is so well-worn and encrusted, you
> are sure that this one tag has adorned the blouse of every waitress
> who has ever worked there, and possibly a few waiters as well.
>
> She hands you a menu, and you peel it apart with a sound somewhat like
> that which is made by separating the two halves of a strip of Velcro.
> Now revealed is the fare which is proudly served at this
> establishment. She asks, "What'llyahaf," and produces a pad and chewed
> stub of a pencil from a grease-stained apron. She then signals that
> she is ready to take your order by trumpeting a smokers-cough.
>
> The fare is eggs fried in lard, bacon on a griddle in lard, sausages
> on a griddle cooked with lard, toast made on the griddle in the
> leftover grease from the eggs, bacon, and sausages (the better places
> have a toaster that needed a backflushing last year because of the
> lard), real butter, biscuits in gravy, whole milk, and don't expect to
> see a defibrillator on the wall. Real men perform CPR on themselves in
> these places. The language of the menu makes it sound slightly more
> appetizing, but no more healthy tha that which was just described to
> you herein.
>
> As you wait for your "meal" to be served, you have a quick and
> judicious look about. Few of the patrons have all their own teeth, and
> the teeth that aren't their own were found on the floor. All of them
> will have mono-color tattoos (black), and some of them have "Mom"
> spelled wrong, but nobody says nothin' about it because nobody
> notices. You briefly think about asking the gentleman next to you
> about his body art, but remember the few loose teeth that you trod
> upon on the way in and decide not to add to the count.
>
> The meal arrives moments later making it more than clear to you from
> whence the original odor of the place was born, as well as to the
> method they use to dispose of the excess grease. You wring out a
> couple of strips of bacon, and squeeze the excess liquid from the
> sausage, and as you are taking lukewarm bites from them you watch as
> the liquid on the plate starts to congeal and realize that it is most
> likely doing the same thing in your arteries.
>
> The bill is dropped on the table before your third bite, and Marge
> walks off muttering, "Willderebeanythinelse?" as she walks away. In
> the grease-stained paper you try to make out some of the scribbling
> above the printed, "Thank You, Come Again," and you realize that you
> may never be able to after this meal. You drop a few bills on the
> table to cover the damage, and damage it was, and you head out the
> door, thankful that you only live ten minutes away because it means
> you probably have time to make it home so that you won't have to use
> the facilities at the Cafe.
>
> Welcome to America!
>
>
> Randy "Call my agent for booking appearances." G.
Thanks Randy, that's a beautifully written little trip down memory lane ---
I haven't been to a place like that in years. Do they still exist? Guess
I've got to get out of the Bay Area and into the "real" America :).
Thanks again . . .
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Date: 03 Jul 2006 22:39:14
From: Randy G.
Subject: Re: Should "Cafe" in a name mean something?
|
"Alan" <in_flagrante@hotmail.com > wrote:
>
>Thanks Randy, that's a beautifully written little trip down memory lane ---
>I haven't been to a place like that in years. Do they still exist? Guess
>I've got to get out of the Bay Area and into the "real" America :).
>Thanks again . . .
>
Oh, God... if they do exist, make a list so I can avoid them! ;-)
One year while firefighting out area hosted the Statewide CDF anual
get together . About 200-300 folks came up to the large private
campground in our community and our volunteer company cooked
breakfast. I was put in charge of the sausage cooking since being a
veretarian they knew there would be no "shrinkage." I must have cooked
20 or 30 or more pacakges of sausages that morning. WHen I got home I
found I was coated with grease- I could barely see out of my
sunglasses, and I had sheen on all exposed skin.
And people eat that stuff! Uchhh!
Randy "not if it had feet or face" G.
http://www.EspressoMyEspresso.com
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Date: 04 Jul 2006 16:23:08
From: Donn Cave
Subject: Re: Should "Cafe" in a name mean something?
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Quoth Randy G. <frcn@DESPAMMOcncnet.com >:
...
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Date: 04 Jul 2006 01:16:25
From: Alan
Subject: Re: Should "Cafe" in a name mean something?
|
"Cordo" <cordoveroRemoveThis@RemoveThisyahoo.com > wrote in message
news:e8cd1o$jtq$1@news.Stanford.EDU...
> Just curious what y'all think. Today, with my machines down, I tried
> another independent place, "Cafe Sensations." I had a very nice salad and
> my gf had an egg salad sandwhich, and everyone was nice, but they got
> pretty flustered when I ordered a cappuccino. I offered to withdraw the
> order but the sweet young woman went over to the machine, and ten minutes
> later (after about five minutes of steaming) I got my humungous, scalded,
> bitter beverage.
>
> I think places that have "Cafe" in their title should know something about
> making an espresso based beverage. Maybe this is wrong. As I drove away
> down the block, I noticed another place called "Cafe..." something and
> thought of going in, but my gf said, 'They're just a lunch place.'
>
> I suppose "Cafe" just means you serve drip coffee, but I think it ought to
> mean something more in the title. Is it just me? I suppose I have to
> stop searching for coffee based on "Cafe" in a place's name. How else do
> you search? What would you look for in the Yellow Pages? I'm actually
> genuinely curious here. Is there a quick way to search on the web for
> places which take some pride in serving espresso-based drinks?
>
> C
Yup, I think it's just you. In the US, anyway, a cafe is a general sort of
catch-all term for a small restaurant, which will probably have coffee
available, but certainly not necessarily espresso.
Yellow page search for Espresso might help you. You can also go to
maps.google.com, type in your city, do a "business search" for "espresso".
Tried it just now for San Francisco, and got 3,320 hits for places in or
near SF that claim they serve espresso. it might be a place to start . . .
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Date: 04 Jul 2006 01:08:27
From: Marshall
Subject: Re: Should "Cafe" in a name mean something?
|
On Mon, 3 Jul 2006 17:34:07 -0700, "Cordo"
<cordoveroRemoveThis@RemoveThisyahoo.com > wrote:
>Just curious what y'all think. Today, with my machines down, I tried
>another independent place, "Cafe Sensations." I had a very nice salad and
>my gf had an egg salad sandwhich, and everyone was nice, but they got pretty
>flustered when I ordered a cappuccino. I offered to withdraw the order but
>the sweet young woman went over to the machine, and ten minutes later (after
>about five minutes of steaming) I got my humungous, scalded, bitter
>beverage.
>
>I think places that have "Cafe" in their title should know something about
>making an espresso based beverage. Maybe this is wrong. As I drove away
>down the block, I noticed another place called "Cafe..." something and
>thought of going in, but my gf said, 'They're just a lunch place.'
>
>I suppose "Cafe" just means you serve drip coffee, but I think it ought to
>mean something more in the title. Is it just me? I suppose I have to stop
>searching for coffee based on "Cafe" in a place's name. How else do you
>search? What would you look for in the Yellow Pages? I'm actually
>genuinely curious here. Is there a quick way to search on the web for
>places which take some pride in serving espresso-based drinks?
>
>C
In the U.S. a "cafe" is a casual restaurant that (usually) serves
breakfast, among other meals. No expertise in espresso is implied.
Marshall
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Date: 03 Jul 2006 19:44:49
From: Cordo
Subject: Re: Should "Cafe" in a name mean something?
|
> In the U.S. a "cafe" is a casual restaurant that (usually) serves
> breakfast, among other meals. No expertise in espresso is implied.
I suppose you're right. Still, "cafe" does mean "coffee."
C
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Date: 04 Jul 2006 03:12:31
From: Alan
Subject: Re: Should "Cafe" in a name mean something?
|
"Cordo" <cordoveroRemoveThis@RemoveThisyahoo.com > wrote in message
news:e8ckmp$oml$1@news.Stanford.EDU...
>> In the U.S. a "cafe" is a casual restaurant that (usually) serves
>> breakfast, among other meals. No expertise in espresso is implied.
>
> I suppose you're right. Still, "cafe" does mean "coffee."
>
> C
Yes .... but not in American English.
(And in no language that I'm aware of does "cafe" imply "espresso")
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Date: 03 Jul 2006 22:29:44
From: DougW
Subject: Re: Should "Cafe" in a name mean something?
|
Alan did pass the time by typing:
> "Cordo" <cordoveroRemoveThis@RemoveThisyahoo.com> wrote in message
> news:e8ckmp$oml$1@news.Stanford.EDU...
>>> In the U.S. a "cafe" is a casual restaurant that (usually) serves
>>> breakfast, among other meals. No expertise in espresso is implied.
>>
>> I suppose you're right. Still, "cafe" does mean "coffee."
>>
>> C
> Yes .... but not in American English.
>
> (And in no language that I'm aware of does "cafe" imply "espresso")
Cafe (in the American sense of the word) is short for Cafeteria.
In my limited exposure only sell coffee from perpetually warmed
glass carafes or industrial 30 gallon percolators. Which explains
why I would rather drink water.
--
DougW
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Date: 04 Jul 2006 03:42:05
From: Marshall
Subject: Re: Should "Cafe" in a name mean something?
|
On Mon, 3 Jul 2006 22:29:44 -0500, "DougW"
<post.replies@invalid.address > wrote:
>Alan did pass the time by typing:
>> "Cordo" <cordoveroRemoveThis@RemoveThisyahoo.com> wrote in message
>> news:e8ckmp$oml$1@news.Stanford.EDU...
>>>> In the U.S. a "cafe" is a casual restaurant that (usually) serves
>>>> breakfast, among other meals. No expertise in espresso is implied.
>>>
>>> I suppose you're right. Still, "cafe" does mean "coffee."
>>>
>>> C
>> Yes .... but not in American English.
>>
>> (And in no language that I'm aware of does "cafe" imply "espresso")
>
>Cafe (in the American sense of the word) is short for Cafeteria.
Uh, no it isn't. Cafes existed (under that name) long before
cafeterias, which did not become popular until the 1920's.
Both words, however, derive from "coffee," one being French and the
other Spanish.
Marshall "went to an interesting Charles Perry lecture on the history
of cafeterias last year"
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Date: 04 Jul 2006 15:00:38
From: North Sullivan
Subject: Re: Should "Cafe" in a name mean something?
|
On Tue, 04 Jul 2006 01:08:27 GMT, Marshall
<mrfuss@ihatespamearthlink.net > wrote:
>In the U.S. a "cafe" is a casual restaurant that (usually) serves
>breakfast, among other meals. No expertise in espresso is implied.
>
>Marshall
I've got neon signs advertising, "cafe", and "espresso". I don't
serve breakfast or sandwiches, and I frequently get travelers looking
for meals. The locals have eventually bought into the "cafe" concept,
meaning a place to hang out over a cup of strong coffee or
espresso-based beverage, and maybe have a bagel, scone or ice cream.
It's a place to join public conversations about politics, religion,
gossip, and bullsh*t.
When I first opened, I would get daily requests to expand the menu.
People eventually got the idea that it wasn't going to happen. Now
the regulars spot newbies looking for breakfast and shout out as they
enter the door: "He doesn't serve breakfast." :-) More and more,
people respond with, "I came for the coffee."
Works for me,
North Sullivan
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Date: 04 Jul 2006 14:00:12
From:
Subject: Re: Should "Cafe" in a name mean something?
|
On Mon, 3 Jul 2006 17:34:07 -0700, "Cordo"
<cordoveroRemoveThis@RemoveThisyahoo.com > wrote:
>Just curious what y'all think.
In my bioregion, cafe has come to mean the sort of eatery where you
order at a counter and they either call your name or number, or give
you a table flag of some sort and deliver to your table.
Many regular restaurants, some quite well known and difficult to get
into on short notice, will have associated cafes.
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Date: 05 Jul 2006 15:01:58
From: Randy R
Subject: Re: Should "Cafe" in a name mean something?
|
Marshall wrote:
>
> In the U.S. a "cafe" is a casual restaurant that (usually) serves
> breakfast, among other meals. No expertise in espresso is implied.
>
> Marshall
This is why I used the word "Caffe" (Italian for coffee,) in the name
of my shop.
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Date: 05 Jul 2006 22:59:48
From: The Other Funk
Subject: Re: Should "Cafe" in a name mean something?
|
"Randy R" <rrostie@gmail.com > wrote in message
news:1152136918.810207.19490@p79g2000cwp.googlegroups.com...
>
> Marshall wrote:
>>
>> In the U.S. a "cafe" is a casual restaurant that (usually) serves
>> breakfast, among other meals. No expertise in espresso is implied.
>>
>> Marshall
>
> This is why I used the word "Caffe" (Italian for coffee,) in the name
> of my shop.
Cafe -- a small restaurant where drinks and snacks are sold
No mention of coffee, darn it. Plus I'll bet that there are regional
variations.
The "cafe" down the street will make you a cappuccino. After all. They just
have to push the right button.
Coffee worth staying up for - NY Times
www.moondoggiecoffee.com
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Date: 05 Jul 2006 18:36:54
From: Mud Pup
Subject: Re: Should "Cafe" in a name mean something?
|
Cordo wrote:
> Just curious what y'all think. Today, with my machines down, I tried
> another independent place, "Cafe Sensations." I had a very nice salad and
> my gf had an egg salad sandwhich, and everyone was nice, but they got pretty
> flustered when I ordered a cappuccino. I offered to withdraw the order but
> the sweet young woman went over to the machine, and ten minutes later (after
> about five minutes of steaming) I got my humungous, scalded, bitter
> beverage.
>
> I think places that have "Cafe" in their title should know something about
> making an espresso based beverage. Maybe this is wrong. As I drove away
> down the block, I noticed another place called "Cafe..." something and
> thought of going in, but my gf said, 'They're just a lunch place.'
Over the weekend, I was in a small tourist town well known for
their pastries. I visitted several places with Cafe in the title
and, in fact, all they served were baked goods and real honest-to-
goodness espresso drinks. Unfortunately, every one was as you
mentioned: humungous and scalding (but not bitter because they
were almost all milk.)
I don't think it's just the "cafe doesn't necessarily mean coffee"
places. I simply think that they don't know what a cappucino is
supposed to look like.
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