Look Upon the Trimethyldioxypurist, Ye Mighty, and Despair
It's that time again -- a good cup of coffee is elusive, and the Trimethyldioxypurist is roaming through the desert of fatigue in search of a boost. But what's this? An oasis? What better way to escape from the grueling San Francisco wasteland than in one of its neighborhood coffee joints?
A good, strong cup is always a priority -- but it's not always the whole story.
Take Cafe Abir, for instance, a stand-out coffee joint (and more) in the Western Addition (1300 Fulton Street, at Divisidero; no Web site!! Join the 1990s, man!!).
At this place, it's all about atmosphere. Huge space, high ceilings, lots of air, lots of natural light . . . it's just very comfortable. Distinct Middle Eastern vibe, what with the adverts for old sheik-type movies from the Douglas Fairbanks era and a few paintings that are generally evocative of antiquities and Ozymandias, king of kings. The floors are lined with large tiles; the ceiling lamps are covered in wicker . . . oh, and let's not forget that goofy "camel wall," by far the coolest element in the place. But more on that in a minute.
The atmostphere is very social and the crowd is all-ages. It's like a club -- a cool club -- where anyone's invited. Community notices and fliers for services are displayed on a prominent bulletin board near the main entrance. There are a few couches and padded chairs, but most of the seating is wooden chairs and mid-sized round tables, which are pushed together and pulled apart again to accommodate a constant crowd. There are a few loners -- news junkies, USF students, novel readers -- but these activities, along with the long talks, are fueled by constant refills. The price of refills is reduced from your first cup -- a definite plus in our opinion; a necessity, in fact, for a place where hanging around for long periods of time is the order of the day.
The music is the very definition of atmosphere-appropriate -- just loud enough to hear if you want to, just soft enough to ignore. The very standard by which other coffee houses should be judged.
Adding to the community feeling is a bookshelf against the south wall; while there's some super-market-spinner-rack fare in there, the bulk of it appears to be literature and/or philosophy related -- I noted works from Truman Capote, Mary Shelley, and ("because I have a brain") Amy Tan.
Cafe Abir bridges the deli/coffee house gap, and has a full sandwich menu and tons of side/deli-style salads. And smoothies. And beer and wine, for reasonable prices (for a coffee house in the 'Sco, that is). The state ABC board will be thrilled to know that, despite being young and with it, the staff does actually check I.D.s, to which those baby-faced USF girls in front of me who got sent scurrying away can attest.
Cafe Abir shares space with a magazine shop, which seemed to have good selection and an extremely eccentric cashier who, frankly, seemed quite mad (in the Lewis Carroll sense) and probably deserves a whole column dedicated solely to him. Of course, we'd live in a darker-looking-glass sort of world ourselves if we had to stand for hours on end next to the "camel wall," a brazier and camel-laden structure that serves to partition the cafe from the magazines.
The coffee itself? Well, the coffee's fine -- understated flavor, earthy, strong finish. Served hot -- hot!! -- which is a definite plus. But if you're getting a cup to go, this is not the best place -- perhaps the Trimethyldioxypurist set the bar too high by spotlighting Gallery Cafe right off the bat. However, if you're meeting friends or need to write or study or anything else where you're gonna "set a spell," few places are better than Cafe Abir.