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It is a utilitarian item, not a gourmet beverage, and serves a purpose. For one, in the late eighties, there was yet to be a corporate coffeehouse on every corner.
Coffee, during college also became a social ritual, and thus satisfied two needs A need for a mild stimulant and a need for meeting/ studying. During college (I went to a total of five different colleges in two states, and developed a pretty good demographic) I could get a good cup of coffee, or I could get atmosphere, but the two never existed as one.
Soon I also found that socializing was far easier in a bar, as even the best coffeehouse still held pretences that a bar helped to dissolve through a certain acceptance of 'the other'. A 'dive bar' is not the place of the ordinary citizen, but a place you wouldn't want your car to be seen parked in front of. Once inside, the dive bar is almost instant gratification, where anyone is welcome, and 'everybody knows your name'.
1. A good cup of coffee.
2. A good atmosphere.
3. The social acceptance of a dive bar.
After college, I had no money, and wanted nothing to do with business as I had an art degree to my name and little else. It seems to be a fundamental idea behind ANY wildly successful business; the idea is spawned from someone wishing something existed for their own purely selfish gratification.
A good cup of coffee. After deciding that I would eventually have a coffeehouse, I spent three years working for other coffeehouses. I stole every good secret along the way. I also needed a place that was comfortable, but with the essential seediness of a red light district just recently turned artist village. I kept repeating during the whole design and conceptualization, somewhere between a dive bar and disneyland.
There is a giddy gratification to a casino, a roller coaster, strip club, a dive bar.
I needed to translate this addictive/ satisfaction to an ordinary cup of coffee; through the experience. For the basic consumer, you could stand in line at the place down the street, or you could stand in line here, during which time you'll be badgered, barraged, entertained and certainly for that small bit of time, forget everything else you've got on your mind. This was important, as I wanted to capture that 'suspension of disbelief' so common to a good movie. I decided that this was going to be a delicate balance between the mystique of the building itself, the mood set by the design and music, and the 'talent' behind the counter. We are actors, and the counter is our stage. The atmosphere is not meant to undermine the product, as once the coffee has been drunk, once the customer has left the building, their patronage eventually is based on the cup.
(Excerpted from August, 1999 Gourmet Retailer)
I had two absolute rules, and to this day we have stuck steadfast to them:
1. Serve the best cup of coffee. This is not simple. It requires constant maintenance of the equipment, monthly water sampling. We received coffee shipments twice a week from at times three different roasters and when that proved not to be 'perfect' we bought a roaster. An intensive four week training program for all new baristas and a regimented retraining program for all employees. But by doing all of these steps, we continue serve the best cup of coffee.
2. Provide a 'dive bar mafia owned' atmosphere. How many coffeehouses do you know that need a bouncer? Since we opened, we've had building fires, a car explode in the parking lot, three drive by shootings, two undercover 'stings', countless arrests, and more public nudity than should be allowed.
We are a spectacle. And we have constantly maintained Safehouse as the best spectacle in town, be it live or on our frequent nightly news appearances. I don't want to give the impression that we have a criminal clientele, just the opposite: People like to watch, and we provide an element of both drama and surprise.
