Peter C.
Yelp
Ladies and gents, let me expound ever so briefly on a phenomenon I like to call "Nerdification of the Bean." Brew chasers know what I am talking about. It seems that the hip and cool thing to do these days is proclaim yourself a coffee brewing Urkel: to deck out a shop with high-end espresso machines, scales and glass beakers; to don lab coats and throw around fancy terms like "distillation"; and call oneself a scientist in the chase for the perfect brew. Some even tout their credentials in their name (e.g., Sensory Lab in the David Jones).
Don't get me wrong. Surely, there's a time and place for this kind of endeavor, and I, for one, applaud and support the application of scientific rigor to the pursuit of coffee perfection. But sterility can displace warmth; and the mechanization of process has a tendency to sunder art from craft. The top of Mount Olympus can be a lonely place.
Dukes is a happy medium between two extremes -- the exacting lab behind glass and steel, and the plodding street cafe that serves its coffee only one way (burnt). They've got the Mistral oddity from outer space and the weighing scale, but with offsetting wooden cabinet finishes and an inviting teal facade. Is the one coffee I had here (a soy cap, $4.50; customarily served with a double shot, but still pricey) the best I've ever had? No. It was adequate -- bordering on good, even. Smooth and mellow. But in some ways, that misses the point. On a blustery morning, I sought refuge from the cold. That I found what I was looking for inside Dukes says as much about the cafe environs as it does about the coffee Dukes serves.
Open Saturdays too (Yelp's hours above are incorrect).