Morelia's Coffee Despair: A Snob's Guide to Dry Air and Drier Beans
just stumbled off the bus in morelia, michoacán, and this dry heat is no joke. 25.96°c with 15% humidity-my skin's already protesting. i’m a coffee snob, meaning i bring my own grinder on trips and judge every brew like it’s a personality test. finding good coffee here feels like hunting for water in a desert.
for context, here’s the map of this baked paradise:
. see that vast expanse of beige? that’s my soul right now.
i dragged my suitcase to this cafe tucked behind the cathedral. the barista wore a apron stained with what i hoped was espresso, not blood. he served a shot that was acidic but bold-like a spanish soap opera.
. the beans were from chiapan highlands, but overroasted. someone told me later that this place is a front for the owner’s other “hobbies.” drunk advice from a local, take it with salt.
then i found el colibrí, a hole-in-the-wall with a hummingbird sign. their pour-over was delicate, almost floral, but the dude running it disappears for siestas. i heard from a tour group that he’s a retired poet who only makes coffee when inspired.
. worth the wait, if you have time to kill.
if this coffee scene gets old, guanajuato’s an hour east with its own speciality spots, and querétaro’s got third-wave labs that’ll make a snob weep. but here, the dry air keeps beans fresh, they claim, while my patience dries up.
i’ve been scraping tripadvisor and yelp for leads. tripadvisor’s morelia cafe list is full of tourist traps, but some gems hide. yelp for morelia coffee points to cafés like café xocolatl-overhyped but decent for a cortado. this local board morelia eats has real talk, though i think the writer’s getting kickbacks. for global coffee gossip, sprudge and coffee review are my daily reads.
the weather’s holding at that 25.96°c, humidity 15%, no relief in sight. i just checked my phone and it’s mocking me with the same numbers. perfect for adobe walls, crap for my lips.
last stop was a rooftop cafe overlooking the pink city.
. they served a cold brew that tasted like the desert-clean, harsh, and oddly satisfying. i sipped, sweated, and wondered why i ever left my aeropress at home.
that’s morelia for you: dry air, dry humor, and coffee that’ll either wake you up or break your heart. bring chapstick and an open mind.
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