Doug Clark: Starbucks ups coffee game, takes hipster to new level

I’ve been feeling pretty darned groovy about my Spokane pedigree.

That is, I was until a recent visit to the latest evolution in Seattle Starbucks coffee shops.

My hometown is getting cooler, I had convinced myself. The Perry District is rockin’, after all, and we have at least one or two trendy downtown whiskey bars.

Plus, it can now be said that beatnik performance art has become a part of Spokane City Council meetings.

How else do you describe Michael Alderman’s recent public testimony, where he began repeating the phrase “Bridge to Hookerville, Bridge to Hookerville, Bridge to …” something like 30 times in a row?

Cool, daddio.

The only other alternative is that Alderman suffers from some weird affliction that could infect us all.

Whatever. As I was saying, my Spokane hipster delusion was squashed last Sunday when my lovely wife, Sherry, and I walked through the heavy doors of Starbucks Reserve Roastery and Tasting Room at 1124 Pike St.

Getting a room at the posh Washington Athletic Club didn’t feel nearly as exclusive.

The Reserve is a vast gleaming steampunk-meets-Javaland space odyssey that opened last December.

Copper tubing and massive roasters and exposed ceilings and …

Directly in front of us, a small Oompa Loompa man fiddled with the dials on a big crematorium and bean roaster.

The overly cheery Starbucks greeters made me think of Scientologist recruiters or Apple employees.

All the customers in the place looked young and attractive and seemed to be carrying black tote bags filled with merchandise.

Suckers.

Needless to say, I felt underdressed. But then that’s pretty much always the case.

Now, it goes without saying that we modern Americans are pretty much used to the barista phenomenon. Well, everyone except Spokane City Councilman Mike Fagan, who seems to be overly fixated on the few nearly naked ones.

But the fear of anal clefts aside, we’re all familiar with the rigmarole that the simple act of ordering coffee has become.

Once it was:

“Gimme a cuppa Joe, doll face. And maybe some cream and sugar, too.”

Now it’s, “I’ll take a frabba-jabba caramel macchiato skinny with white throbbing soy sludge and candy sprinkles, but not pink. Oh, and make it iced if the water’s distilled.”

But that’s now the old paradigm.

Starbucks Reserve has added sophisticated layers that now make ordering a darned cup of coffee more complicated than making out your will.

Here’s what I went through after parking on a stool at the Reserve’s classy “Mod Bar.”

First I had to choose from the exotic list of today’s coffees, which included …

A. BALI VINTAGE KLASIK, “sweet lemon and caramel notes with a nutty finish.”

B. BRAZIL SERTAOZINHO, “notes of citrus, milk chocolate and toasted hazelnuts.”

C. TANZANIA KIMULI, “tangerine acidity with notes of red currant and dark chocolate.”

D. GRAVITAS BLEND, “deep and layered flavors of roasted plum, tamarind and milk chocolate.”

E. DECAF COSTA RICA BELLA VISTA F. W. TRES RIOS, “zesty lime citrus notes and brown spice accents with a chocolaty mouthfeel.”

After that, I had to decide whether I wanted my coffee …

A. CLOVER BREWED, “highly precise, the Clover utilizes a full-immersion brewing method paired with vacuum extraction to bring out the coffee’s flavors.” ($3 to $4.50)

B. MOD BAR POUR-OVER, “produces a delicious clean cup of coffee that allows subtle flavor notes to shine.” ($3 to $4.50)

C. COLD BREW, “a nuanced smooth cup of coffee, perfect over ice.” ($3 to $4.50)

D. COFFEE PRESS, “this method retains the flavorful oils of the coffee, resulting in a rich & full-bodied cup.”

E. GM RADIATED, “run through the radiator of an idling 1958 Pontiac, this method produces a tangy blend of old mohair seat covers and vintage mildew.”

OK, I made the last one up.

But the weight of all the real choices put me in a panic.

And I’m not even going to discuss the list of add-ons like syrups, soy milk or coconut milk.

“What if I make the wrong decision?” I asked Sherry. “And please don’t let me leave here with a ‘chocolaty mouthfeel.’ ”

Finally, I had to decide.

“I’ll take a Gravitas with a Mod Pour Over,” I told my barista, Eli.

Before my eyes he began grinding beans, putting the dark grind in a filter and then giving the whole shebang a slow, hot, sexy shower, minus the soap, over a cup.

I took a sip when he was done.

“That’s really good,” I told Eli, who told me that the beans were roasted right over there in the Oompa Loompa furnace.

I drank the entire cup and began to feel the rush.

“This stuff is rocket fuel,” I told Sherry.

Next thing I knew I was lost in a caffeinated buzz.

I wandered over to a counter where I bought a pound of “Gravitas Blend No. 1” for 37 bucks. Then the young woman told me I couldn’t make coffee out of it for seven to 10 days.

What?

She said the molecules of something-or-other had to escape from the beans.

It slowly dawned on me that I had just paid a fortune for coffee that comes with a longer waiting period than buying a firearm.

I was wired. I didn’t care.

I moved on to the fancy mug stand, where I bought two cups just because they had the Starbucks Reserve “R” on them.

Ooh. Look at me.

By the time we left, I was carrying a black tote bag filled with over $70 worth of crap I didn’t need, just like all the other boobs.

Now I’m back home, waiting for my Gravitas to mature and trying to convince myself that my intense experience at the Starbucks Reserve Roastery and Tasting Room has made me a more enlightened human.

“Bridge to Hookerville. Bridge to Hookerville. Bridge to …”