This is one of the coolest if not the coolest coffee houses I’ve ever been to.  (Tate Street Coffee – the Libby years and Green Bean – both the Pete days and the Katie days, notwithstanding, as they are in realm of their own for so many reasons the least of which was the actual coffee…which don’t get me wrong, was great.)

This place harkens back to the Simonton days if any GSO peeps remember that.  Cool shop, owner PASSIONATE about coffee, from selecting and roasting beans through to the pulled shot and poured cup.

I should also explain that I barely drink coffee anymore. It hasn’t agreed with me for years so I’ve stayed away. I love it, but it doesn’t love me back. I had some in Belgrade and everything seemed ok. Some more in Novi Sad. Also all good. So by the time I was in Zagreb I’d happily fallen back into the habit of a cappuccino or 2 to start my day.

Anyway, Eliscaffe is located in Zagreb on the street that basically divides the upper town from the lower town. It’s a one-way street that is primarily the bastion of walkers and trams. It’s convenient, but not in one of the main pedestrian districts, let alone cafe laden squares in town.

From the outside you will probably walk right by with barely a glance. I sure did. The sidewalk is fairly narrow and not conducive to strolling or window-shopping. I did glance at it once, because the typeface on the signage was different than all the other shops I’d seen in the city, but still I walked by.

When I finally did stop in (thanks Craig for suggesting it)…I fell in love. It hit me on so many levels. Aesthetically – the design and attention to detail was award winning.  The sounds and smells of the place articulated serious coffee culture. And the energy, well that too was brilliant.

Let me explain.

The first thing you notice about the place is that it is clean. And not just tidy clean. Clean by design. It’s all white. Next to no artwork other the name in white letters in relief on the wall behind the counter, a quote on a wall in the back of the shop in the same block relief letters and a vertical panel of black and white photos when you walk in the door. It’s simply furnished. 4 tables, 4 stools at the counter and 1 stool at a bar/shelf in the window looking out onto the street. There are a few more spots out front but they are basically places to perch upon for a quick shot. Not comfy chairs to tuck in for an afternoon of people watching.

There is no big menu of options in chalk above the counter. There is not a line of staff eagerly awaiting your request, asking your name and shouting out your order.  There are no racks of simple syrup flavorings to doctor your brew, no self-service bar of milk, cream, half and half, soy milk, almond milk, goat milk, vegan cloud milk, white sugar, turbinado, agave nectar, pink, blue or yellow packets. None of it.

Instead, there is a very simple menu actually printed on the table. It gives you the simple choice of espresso, cappuccino, hot chocolate and one or two other things. Yes you can get soy milk…but really…please don’t! If you can’t do dairy, get an espresso and leave it at that!

As to the seriousness of the place and coffee culture…I dare you to go in and order something with soy milk. Go ahead, you do that. I’ll be the one waiting for the withering look Nick gives you.

The first time I went in, I opted for a cappuccino. When it came there was no sugar on the table nor was any brought with the custom designed cup. I embraced the situation and took the first sip without any sweetener…I think I heard angels or maybe that was my taste buds.

Sweet. That cap was actually sweet. Smooth and a little acidic but in the way oranges are acidic. Sweet and smooth and acidic. Now if you were to switch the analogy of orange with the flavor of almonds. Yeah…all that from a glorified cup of coffee. Wow.

Needless to say I went in every day for the balance of my time in Zagreb.

As I was consuming that first cup, the guy behind the counter, who I learned was the owner, Nick, asked where I was from. The states I said.  He said “I thought so.” “Why?” I asked in return.

“You took time with your coffee. Americans do that. They hold the cup. They smell it. They savor it. Croatians, Italians, they just drink it.”

From that rather interesting opening exchange we talked, (ok he talked, I listened) about a lot of things to do with food, coffee, Americans, Croatians, Italians, ego, reputation, music, and a little more about coffee.

Turns out this guy, in this little shop, on a street in Zagreb is a multi award winning barista. Yes he’s been the best in Croatia 3 or 4 times but he has also competed on an international level and garnered the respect of the best of the best at that level.

Heck of a rep!

The last day I was there, I was savoring my last cappuccino, drinking in not only the brew but all the elements of the place. And even though I’d been there 3 prior times, totaling 4 or 5 hours, details were still appearing to me. As I was drinking down my last sip, looking over the past the rim of the cup, which cheekily says “no logo/just taste” I noticed the sconces on the walls. The shade of the fixture? A coffee cup/bowl. The reflector behind the bulb? A saucer. The on/off pull chain? A demitasse spoon. Abso-freaking-lutly brilliant!