Café Ethiopia 88

At the junction of F. Cabahug and San Jose de la Montaña one can find a small coffee shop called Café Ethiopia 88. It’s in the same compound as Binugoy Ang Kaon nga Kinawboy and is just right across the 24 hour Korean convenience store.

I’m sitting here now at the coffee shop, in one of its 4 sala sets, trying my best to describe how this unique coffee shop caught my interest. My first visit to Café 88 was last night, after meeting Bridget and Biba for a dinner at Lemon Grass. It was Bridget who brought me to Café Ethiopia. It was just a few blocks away from where he was billeted. I feel quite ashamed for my self because it took a Caviteño like Bridget to show me, a half-Cebuano this cool spot which had been established in Cebu for many years.

And now, after my brief business visit in Talisay City, I decided to drop by the coffee shop again. It was only four o’clock when I got inside Café 88. Ms. Teresa, the shop owner greeted me at the coffee counter.

“Hello, you’ve come back. Thank you for visiting us again. Did you enjoy your coffee last night?”

“Hello po Ma’am Tere. I’m here again. My mocha coffee last night was great. I have to drop by and taste your Kilimanjaro.”

Ms. Tere is not your ordinary coffee barista. She’s obviously a coffee aficionado and it’s deeply reflected on how she would entertain her customers, especially those who came by for the very first time. Bridget introduced me to Ms. Tere. She exudes this bright attitude and warm reception towards her customers.

In an inviting manner, she would tell you to pick a coffee cup from her extensive collection behind her counter. She had this huge black shelf with cups of various shape, color and size, arranged neatly among the six wooden layers. I took my time to choose my cup. Bridget has already picked a small blue cup and saucer painted with small orange flowers. At the topmost layer of the shelf, I chose a simple cup of black and white stripes and ordered a mocha coffee.

I was told that their regular customers have chosen their favorite cups. Whenever they come to the shop, they already know what cup to use. They would just have to point to the cup on the display shelf.

From picking a cup to a preferred coffee strength, Ms. Tere then asked me if I wanted my coffee strong or mild. Mocha coffee had this bitter chocolate tang but I was not quite sure about their version of a strong brew so I asked for a mild concoction.

Bridget and I sat on a couch near the counter. The barista-owner began her ritual of coffee brewing. Sitting and waiting for my mocha, I couldn’t help but notice the oddity of the place. African masks on one side, wooden Thai panels of intricately carved flowers hang beside a poster of the jazz musician Dizzy Gillespie.

The coffee counter was adorned with posters bearing Japanese calligraphy. Maps of the island of Cebu, and the Philippines were found at the foot of the counter along with the photocopied maps of Africa and South America framed simply in wooden molding. Walls of coral pink complimented the red adobe floor and the brown painted molding that supports the white ceiling.

I called Bro Bear on the phone and had him talk to Bridget. I, on the other hand, continued my exploration. There were small Japanese umbrellas placed beside four pink scented candles. Three identical lighting fixtures with wooden bladed fans hang directly above three identical floor mats. An African carved figure rests upon an old English dictionary. A Victorian lamp nestled on top of an antique Indonesian side table bearing copies of the Manila Shinbun and some Japanese comic books and magazines.

The place was a fusion of almost anything from anywhere.

I saw Ms. Tere deep into her brewing. All her coffee were single-prepared and were done using the old-fashioned way. She didn’t have commercial coffee makers similar to those found in popular coffee shops. What she had were a pair of small hand driven coffee bean mill and crusher, coffee pots made of glass, ceramic or metal and a filter holder.

Bridget passed the phone to me. I heard Bro Bear’s voice on the other end. He asked me to describe the place. He asked me if the place looked “sosyal” or if it had functioning aircon units. I said that the shop is air-conditioned and is not smoke-free. I heard the word “sosyal” again when Ms. Tere approached me and allowed me to smell the crushed coffee beans in her hand.

I said goodbye to Bro Bear and ended up the call. Folger’s and Taster’s Choice were no match for this particular variety. She said the beans were from Japan. Most of their beans come from the country where she usually visits. She’s not from here actually. She’s from Pampanga who worked for some time in Japan. She’s fluent in Nihonggo, which explains the periodicals and the comic books and the posters. She had a handful of Japanese people who visit her coffee shop everyday. Bridget told me that it was in Japan where she learned and appreciated the art of coffee brewing. Her passion for coffee has led her to put up Café Ethiopia 88.

She placed a white paper in a tapered glass filter holder. She poured the crushed mocha beans into the filter. Boiling water flowed from a brass metal pot onto the beans and through the filter paper. Then an olive porcelain pot collected the mocha coffee dripping from the holder above it. The coffee was poured into my chosen cup. Ms. Tere served my mocha together with a Japanese cream, a jar of brown sugar crystals and a small plate of rosquillos.

That night, she demonstrated the art of bridging. Bridging was about the manner of putting cream into the coffee. Using the coffee spoon, cream was made to flow from the stem of the spoon down to the surface of the coffee. It has to be done only when the cup is half full. It’s more like adding cream without the need for stirring. By bridging, the cream just mixed with the coffee on its own.

Bridget had consumed his Kilimanjaro without bridging. I did the bridging as instructed. The cream flowed down from the spoon, on to the surface of my mocha coffee. Swirling patterns of white began to form against the black surface. I watched the pattern dissolve into beige.

I lifted my cup and drank the rest of my coffee. It was such a different coffee experience. And now, I’m here again at Café Ethiopia 88 to allow myself to feel the same familiar feeling of appreciation for a coffee brewed well.