not here to play critic
Chaos. We promised you that from day one, and it was delivered this morning when an entire article got the axe. Deleted. Gone. Why? Because we’re here to champion the rad in coffee, not wallow in the “meh.” There’s enough dragging us down already. We don’t need to add to the pile. That doesn’t mean we’ll sugarcoat things or dodge the truth. But we’re not here to play Yelp critic either.
This week, we spent time asking people: what makes a great café? The answers ran the gamut because, let’s face it, everyone’s chasing something different. Most agreed on one thing: good coffee. But what does “good” even mean in a café setting? Is it a multi-roaster joint slinging Sey, Prodigal, and Black & White? Or a roaster-owned café offering their own lineup of meticulously sourced single origins? Maybe it’s just about a drinkable latte. It’s all subjective. Coffee might be the most subjective thing there is.
Which brings us to the Café Experience Wheel.
It’s a spin on the tasting wheel used in coffee reviews, boiled down to the essentials of what makes a café great—or so we thought. Honestly, we were pretty proud of it. But now? Consider this its swan song. It tries to quantify the unquantifiable, strips the context, and penalizes shops for things that don’t matter very much in the grand scheme.
Here’s a real-world example: Imagine a café with flawless presentation. A carafe for your delicious pour-over, a card breaking down that coffee’s story, and a delightful little sipping cup. But your espresso shot? Served in a flimsy to-go cup. Is that a knock on their game, or just bad timing? Maybe the barrista ran out of proper cups while chatting with you. Does that paper cup wipe out everything else they nailed? It shouldn’t. The filter coffee was banging and the overall experience still stuck with me.
So, we’re rethinking our approach. Shifting gears on how we talk about cafés, about what we value in this weird, wonderful industry. Our mission is simple: celebrate what’s rad and tasty. That’s the voice we’re chasing. That’s the story we want to tell.
Bad Mother - St. Petersburg, Florida
With Monday wide open, I did what any self-respecting borderline-psychopath would do—drove two hours to sip from one of the best. That shop? Bad Mother, tucked inside the Station House in downtown St. Pete, a coworking spot that feels more like a creative playground, filled with other small shops and plenty of seating.
The space hums with good energy. It’s easy to get work done here, though I’ll admit I missed bar seating. There’s something about perching up close, watching baristas make their magic. Bad Mother seems to get it too—once a month, they host Slow Bar Sundays at the bar. It’s proof the setup can happen, just not every day
The music? I don’t even remember it, which is the best compliment I can give. It didn’t drown the room, didn’t interrupt the flow. My friends and I could talk across the table without shouting.
Where Bad Mother really flexes is in branding and presentation. The owner, Chris, has a design background, and you can tell. Every detail feels intentional, from the tasting cards paired with every pour-over to the bold, unapologetic name. It all works, curating not just a cup of coffee but a relationship with the person sipping on it.
And then there’s the coffee. Four pour-over options: one from Sey, two from Black & White and one from La Cabra. I went with Gummy Worms from Black & White and dry-fermented honey Ethiopia from Sey. Both hit, but Gummy Worms stole the show. This blend of different process coffees is a ride—funky, bright, unforgettable. Maybe not an everyday brew, but perfect for a slow afternoon, editing photos and shooting the shit with friends.
They brew all of their filter coffees on the Hario Switch, a personal favorite. Method is straightforward: bloom, steep, and tweak the steep time based on the coffee. It’s simple, precise, and consistent.
Onto the spro. They had Danche from Black and White dialed in—and to no one who has read this far’s surprise—it was incredible. Sweet and lightly acidic, like a polite punch to the mouth hole.
Bad Mother isn’t just a Florida standout—it’s one of the best in the country. I’d drive hours for this. The coffee, the atmosphere, the whole experience—worth every mile.
