Kiffah Cafe

Alright… Caveat Emptor here; This is definitely the weirdest, most clique-​ish, and discomfort-​inducing crowd this side of Mogadishu.
That said: The guy that we saw running the counter in this… ahem…shall I call it a coffee shop… is just the nicest guy. He was so kind about trying to accommodate.
Now before you go thinking that I’m some adventurous yuppie from the suburbs who happened on some culture and got scared, know that I am by no means some clueless and culture-​lacking American doofus; I hang out pretty exclusively with people from China, Korea, Egypt, and Ethiopia, and most of my friends are the kind of people who like to join cultural enclaves as well. I know the drill for hanging out in places where the only Americans who ever wander in are «ugly Americans» at best, and there is rarely a situation where I am unable to correct and diffuse that initial deep-​seated and probably justified conclusion that people of culture immediately draw upon when they see me, when a lily-​white, hipster-​doofus looking chick, walks in without initiation, and they wonder if I’m lost.
Now, knowing that, this place was a culture shock for me.
However, despite that, this is hands-​down the best coffee I have ever had anywhere. Ever.
Here’s the no-​frills account of my visit, and I present this to you in what is my most objective assessment of things, and you decide whether you want to brave the possible discomfort of culture shock for the best coffee you will ever have.
I have seen this place many times as I traverse from Leetsdale, east to my neighborhood. This place is always open really late, and has a host of cabs parked outside. Because I kept seeing Freedom and Union cabs outside, I thought there was a good chance that I might run into some people I know in the Ethiopian community there, as these companies are well-​stocked with Ethiopian drivers, some of them good friends.
This was not what I discovered when I actually went in, but no big deal. I just wanted to list my motivation to have undertaken this coffee adventure, for the record.
When I stopped, it was right near 9 pm or so. There were a lot of people there, some hanging out near the entrance, talking with one another or on cell phones.
As I walked in, the first thing I noticed was that there were no free standing tables with chairs around them. Just long benches which lined the walls, with tables lined up against the benches. There was a large television on the wall. On the television was an Imam, giving a speech, and headlines running across the bottom in a language I did not recognize. Then, I noticed that it was a Somalian News Network. Just background info for you.
The next thing I noticed was that they had some delicious-​looking flatbreads in a case up front, by the counter.
I looked everywhere for a menu, but saw none, so I asked about that. The guy running the front counter nicely told me that they had no menus, that people there knew what they wanted, knew what they made, and just asked for it. He told me that he could make me a remarkable steak and flatbread sandwich. I explained that I had just eaten, and was there for a beverage. I saw they had an espresso machine, and he offered to make two coffees, one for me and one for my husband, and he said it was the best coffee I’d ever have. I took the jump and ordered it.
As the nice guy behind the counter started the laborious process of making us coffee, I looked around. In the corner, there was a money-​wiring and phonecard booth, with instructions for new immigrants on American guidelines for how to wire money overseas. In that same corner, there was a table stacked with woven prayer rugs, and a man in finely woven Muslim garb got one out and proceeded to quietly do his prayer prostrations. The people sitting on the booths were discussing the news playing on the television.
When the coffees were finished, they guy told me my total, which was 4 dollars, and waited for us to pay, then eagerly awaited a response to the question: «try it and tell me if you like it». Note that if you’re going to get coffee here, they do not accept credit, so you’ll have to bring cash.
I took one sip of that coffee and knew that I was drinking the best coffee I’d ever had, in my whole life.
The coffee was comparable to a con panna latte, but that does not describe it. It was slightly sweet, very creamy, rich, and well-​flavored. the coffee was balanced delicately by the extremely delicious milky creaminess of whatever heavenly sweet milk it had been made with. Neither my husband or I could get over how good it was. We gave the guy six bucks and took it to go, as it felt a little like we’d walked in to a place that was not meant for outsiders to just come traipsing in. The guy at the counter was seemingly pleased that we were as glowingly blown away as we were by this incomparable cup.
So…in short, if you’re a true adventurer, I urge you to go try their coffee. Incredibly weird, incredibly good.