Day 10: Date with the devil

Today I had a date with at the devil.

It seemed high time to make a stop in Queen Anne. Erica, whose unwavering good taste (and talent. Did I mention talent?) never ceases to amaze me, suggested we meet for coffee at El Diablo when I mentioned I’d be in her ‘hood.

Pardon the crappy camera phone pictures. I forgot my camera at home...again.

El Diablo Coffee Co did not disappoint. It was eclectic and warm, from the funky murals set to a backdrop of bright yellow to the colorful, mismatched bar stools to the steaming mugs of café con leche to the unexpected rays of February sunlight streaming through the east-facing windows.

What’s more, I sat down next to a lively conversation involving foreskin and the Old Testament, so, needless to say, the eavesdropping selection was decidedly satisfactory.

El Diablo holds the self-imposed title of Seattle’s one and only Latin style coffee house. The menu includes Cuban and Mexican inspired favorites like the Cortadito (two shots of espresso, served with caramelized sugar and topped with an accent of steamed milk and foam) and Mexican hot cocoa (yum).

I didn’t venture beyond my usual Americano (or, at El Diablo, a Yanqui) but Erica ordered some iced, blended tropical delight served with an umbrella, along with a side of Cuban toast (translation: bread, butter, cheese; verdict: delicious). Oh, and my gluten-free date and walnut macaroon was delish.

The space was damn near perfect for working or studying or, in my case, pretending to work. I set up shop at the community table, but there’s also a good selection of two person tables, central bar seating and cozier armchairs and coffee tables near the espresso bar, in addition to outdoor seating. Outlets were easy to come by and the café was filled with a noise register that was soothing rather than abrasive.

I'm a sucker for chunky, sassy mugs.

Yes, more terrible quality picture, stalker-ish pictures. It's charming, ok?

Some of the walls—all of which are already filled with devilish, Latin-themed murals—are covered in photographs. The pictures depict scenes from various faraway lands and exotic destinations, but each includes a familiar face: El Diablo! The impish devil, much like those pesky lawn gnomes, allegedly disappeared from his place of honor on the café’s counter and has since been spotted in every other imaginable place. Who knows, maybe we’ll spot the little devil in Sin City next month?

The work of Zephyr Nelson

Bonus points: El Diablo is cozied up next to Queen Anne Books. I patted myself on the back for recent accomplishments like leaving my sickbed, taking a shower, getting dressed, and making out of the house, and decided I deserved a book as a much-needed reward. Pugetopolis, you are mine!

In summary: El Diablo is a winner. Java was good, the price was right, the company was exceptional (thanks, Erica!), and the neighborhood is one of my favorites. El Diablo, we shall meet again.