On a recent sunny Sunday, smells swirl by the front door of Whittier Cafe.
Streams of spicy smoke waft from lit powdered incense, slightly sweet popcorn lays on a woven serving tray and roasted coffee beans gurgle in a clay pot called a jebena.
All the while, Cafe owner Millete Birhanemaskel gives spectators a play-by-play.
“Some people just know when the coffee is going to bubble up,” Birhanemaskel said, leaning over the jebena’s long spout with a watchful eye, waiting to catch the eruption of brewed goodness into another pot. “It really is a competition with the moms of whose daughter makes the best coffee. So, don’t be the one who lets it spill everywhere.”
Birhanemaskel is in the middle of the cafe’s weekly East African coffee ceremony, a tradition where friends, family and more gather to gossip, provide life updates and enjoy each other's company.
It’s a tradition seeped in community connection, an idea that stems back to why Birhanemaskel opened the cafe to begin with.
Whittier Cafe is celebrating its 11th year
The cafe — found in the Whittier neighborhood at 1710 E. 25th Ave. — serves up African coffee, teaches cultural lessons on the beans and provides a third place.
“We're here 11 years going strong, busier than ever,” Birhanemaskel said. “It's really amazing how much support we get and it's all because of our local community … It’s still a real neighborhood spot where people come and talk to each other, which really isn’t a thing anymore.”
Talking to strangers and being a neighborhood staple is at the heart of her business, Birhanemaskel said.
When the cafe opened, Whittier was still a predominantly Black neighborhood. But change was stirring.
Gentrification, Birhanemaskel said, is a violent process, but it's also like a flower blooming — slow, until all of sudden you look around and things are different.
Black-owned businesses were closing left and right. For the cafe to survive, Birhanemaskel said the shop had to create a space where all people could connect, no matter their disagreements.
“We had to figure out how can we get people to still connect with each other and not feel like it's us versus them,” Birhanemaskel said. “How do we show a part of the community that is often invisible … How do we get some of those folks to open up and understand who's coming into their community … How do we get people who are new here to recognize and get to know their neighbors who have been here forever.”
Years later, Whittier Cafe has become an almost “neutral” ground spot where all sides can meet for a drink and (somewhat) relate. Birhanemaskel wishes she knew how it happened.
'Neutral' doesn’t mean apolitical, however.
The cafe isn’t nicknamed the “activist’s coffee shop” for nothing.
Birhanemaskel said she’s always going to stand up and speak her mind. Social justice is at the root of her core.
The cafe is currently boycotting Ethiopian coffee beans in light of the Tigray War. The shop was home to the local Black Lives Matter chapter. Different political candidates and leaders have used the space to pitch their platforms. At one point the bathroom housed all types of protest signs.
All of this has come at some cost. Someone sprayed hateful rhetoric on their fence. At one point, Birhanemaskel said her employees’ tires were being slashed (which she paid to fix). A dead pig was found in the alleyway, “which I didn’t get,” Birhanemaskel said.
“If somethings wrong, somethings wrong. You shouldn’t be afraid to speak or stand up regardless of whatever the consequences,” Birhanemaskel said
But ultimately, Birhanemaskel said, if you can’t have these types of chats in a coffee shop, where all kinds of people converge for caffeine and pastries, where else can you have it?
“We've done some controversial things, which to me aren't controversial. We’ve said things that have really offended people. And well, if you can't be in a coffee shop, if you can't have that conversation in this space, then we're doomed. Where else are you going to have that space,” Birhanemaskel said. “Maybe we can't change anything, but can we at least see each other?”
Teaching is also at the core of Whittier Cafe
When Birhanemaskel set out to open the coffee shop, her plan was simply to teach people about coffee.
Many don’t know that the continent of Africa produces about 12 percent of the overall worldwide production of coffee, Birhanemaskel said. Specifically, Ethiopia and Uganda are listed in the top 10 countries producing coffee beans.
Not only that, coffee was first discovered in Africa. According to the National Coffee Association, legend has it that a goat herder named Kaldi discovered the beans. He noticed that after his goats would eat certain berries, they’d get so energized they would refuse to sleep at night.
The herder told a monk about his discovery. The monk made a drink out of it and felt the same energetic burst. Thus, coffee was born.
Whittier Cafe uses beans from Uganda, Kenya, Rwanda and Tanzania. They also serve African beer.
“I was so frustrated that everything you hear about Africa was always negative,” Birhanemaskel said. “There's plenty of negatives to talk about and plenty of problems, but what I was frustrated about was that every day you literally start your day with a little piece of Africa and you don't even know it … That's why I started the coffee shop. I wanted people to know there's some beautiful stuff over here too.”
The focus on teaching is also why Birhanemaskel hosts the weekly coffee ceremonies.
The ceremony is done every day back home, sometimes multiple times a day, depending on if guests stop by, Birhanemaskel said.
The ceremony is rooted in family. Regardless of age, or whether you even drink coffee, everyone is present for the serving. It provides space for family members to connect and catch up.
Usually, the women in the family perform the ceremony. Mothers, aunties and grandmothers pass on the tradition. Birhanemaskel’s mom taught her.
Here's how a coffee ceremony works
Birhanemaskel starts by making popcorn. Typically the coffee is served with some type of food, either bread or popcorn. We got kettle corn.
Next, she begins roasting the green beans in a simple misshapen tin pot with a long handle.
“It’s funny because in this country, people will buy expensive roasters when this is like a $3 tin pot,” Birhanemaskel said. “The most important thing is to not burn your beans. That'll completely throw off everything.”
She shakes the pot consistently to prevent the beans from burning, roasting them until they get dark and plump. Her thumb muscles are working overtime.
Crackling sounds pop up from the pot, along with a rich, almost sweet, smell as the oils burn away from the beans.
Birhanemaskel said she can’t give a time frame on when the beans are done roasting. It’s kind of a “if you know, you know” thing.
“I don’t have a good answer because when I ask my mom, she says you just know,” Birhanemaskel laughed. “She’s like, just look at it.”
Soon, the green beans become a dark, dark brown. They, of course, aren't burnt.
Once the beans are grinded, they’re mixed with water inside the jebena and the brewing begins.
For the ceremony, the coffee is brewed and served three times.
The first round will be the strongest. By the third serving, a guest is well beyond caffeinated. That final round is more in line with how most people enjoy their coffee strength, Birhanemaskel said.
Birhanemaskel explains all of this while keeping a close eye on the jebena. If the coffee bubbles out the spout and spills, the ancestors will laugh and the aunties will gossip.
Part of the ceremony is allowing the coffee to bubble up three times. Each time, Birhanemaskel catches the brew in the misshapen tin pot and pours it back into the jebena.
After the third bubbling, Birhanemaskel removes the jebena from the fire and prepares for the pour.
She lays out all of the cups, pouring a good amount of sugar in each. (“The coffee is really strong,” Birhanemaskel laughs.) No milk.
For the ceremony, the goal is to fill all of the cups with one continuous pour. No spilling. The idea behind the single pour, Birhanemaskel said, is that everyone is interconnected.
The problem is, of course, that the pot is heavy.
“You don’t know this pain unless you actually do it,” Birhanemaskel said, using one arm to hold the pot over the cups and the other to prop her pour arm up. “It’s like a weird muscle that we never use, except when we pour the coffee. You’d think I’d have a strong muscle by now.”
As Birhanemaskel approaches the last few cups, the crowd starts to cheer her on. She perseveres, completing the first round without putting down the jebena. No spills.
She hands each person in Whittier Cafe a cup, even if they weren’t watching the ceremony.
It’s strong, smooth and sweet. It tastes like hard work.
Everyone in the circle nods in approval. The second and third rounds come quickly and the coffee just gets better and better.
Felix J. Lopez said he learned about the ceremony randomly. He didn’t know what time it started, and was about to leave just before it began. He's glad he stayed.
“My family is Mexican, so this reminds me of a very community-centric aspect that I really appreciate. It’s a pleasant surprise,” Lopez said. “I think the ritual ... there’s such a simplistic beauty in it that somehow also brings so many people together. We were all strangers but it doesn’t feel that way anymore. We’ve made connections.”
And that’s the point of the ceremony. It’s the point of Whittier Cafe.
Birhanemaskel said she’s ready for the next 11 years.
She’s never wanted to expand, but if the right location presented itself, she’d consider it. Whittier Cafe is under a lease for another four years.
But Birhanemaskel said the coffee will keep coming for as long as people will have it. The cafe will always be a center for social justice.
And as far as the ceremonies go, Birhanemaskel said there is no Whittier Cafe without them.
Really, there’s no cafe without the community, she said.
“The ceremony is really about connection and community … When we do it here, we may not be blood family but we’re forming that connection,” Birhanemaskel said. “That's what's missing for everybody is that connection. That's why people are so crazy all the time … I don't see how you survive without community. It's impossible to be healthy without community.”
