One-time barista Liz Goulding drinks coffee around Dallas so her head doesn't hurt and so she can help keep yours from hurting, too. Got a place to suggest? Leave it in the comments.
Weekend Coffee is tucked inside The Joule Hotel in downtown Dallas. Having never stayed there, I imagined it as the kind of place where fashionable people lay about and are fed grapes and fanned by scantily clad men. And it turned out to be a lot like that, only the fashionable people were busy working and there weren't any grapes.
The service started when I walked in the door, and could have started earlier if I believed in valet parking. So I rode the bus. Don't tell anyone at The Joule, please.
Inside I quickly found Weekend Coffee, a brightly lit, white rectangle of a shop. I approached the counter and was greeted by two baristas. The girl taking my order complimented my bag, and we had a nice conversation that lasted just the right amount of time. I ordered a pour over and tried not to make a face when I signed the bill. It was probably the most expensive cup of coffee I've ever had.
But then the barista encouraged me to find a seat while they finished making my coffee and, by the time I had wandered into the hotel to sit, the shock was beginning to fade. There were so many curated people and things to look at that my mind was at capacity with shiny things.
Three minutes later the barista brought my coffee in a ceramic mug placed on a wooden tray. She set it gently down and asked if I needed anything else. By then I had completely forgotten about how much money I just spent because I was too busy feeling special.
After she left, a completely different woman came by to see if I would like a glass of water. I nodded, and within seconds she was back with a glass full of old timey ice cubes and filled it with water from an old wine bottle. At this point I was quite confident that the staff would spoon-feed me the tasty looking granola that sits in a big jar by the counter if I asked nicely. Or paid them.
I came in expecting good coffee and wasn't disappointed. Weekend uses beans from Seattle's Victrola Coffee, which has a special place in my heart and is worth visiting if you're ever up there. It was a balanced cup, and one of the best pour overs since those became a thing in Dallas.
The tables and chairs are spread out, allowing for privacy. I gathered the group next to me was planning a photo shoot, and later a man was pacing back and forth having a conversation in French. I pretended it was about a very important international business deal, even though I knew it was probably about needing eggs. Everyone in the hotel was wearing clothes that fit them perfectly.
As if on cue, I looked up and found that my neighbor was standing in front of me. He had on a linen suit, bow tie, and matching hat and looks like he fell out of Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil.
The bathroom was amazing. The best coffee-shop bathroom ever, mostly because it is actually The Joule's bathroom. It's like a mausoleum. No music and the walls of each stall are probably six inches thick. Bring your cell phone with you, though, because if you get stuck inside no one would ever find you. At the sink, I discovered fancy soap and lotion from the UK, cloth towels and mints. I took three mints because I had a bus to wait for. On my way out the door magically opened for me, I walked onto the street, and knew why I'd paid so much for my coffee.
This shop is good for:
- ladies with their hair in a high bun - when you need someone to take care of you - pretending for an hour you are staying at The Joule - having a client meeting - high-end people watching
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