Aside from the unoriginality of the decor (artistically drab, of course) and the bitterness of my coffee, the most overbearing shortcoming of D'espresso was the arrogant behaviour of the staff. The sign that hangs above the doorway should have been warning enough, as trendy, minimal black font on a white background often means equally trendy and minimal customer service.
I'm not going to elaborate on the drinks, the coffee was bitter and the mint tea was lukewarm and flavourless, albeit reasonably priced.
The second result for "D'espresso Berlin" on Google images will put a picture of the staff in your head (anybody reminded of the people in the accompanying video for "The Dickhead Song"?).
When I asked the guy in the pink v-neck for the wifi password he blurted it at me as he walked, once. I had to find him and ask him again what the password was, to his dismay. He also ignored every "ciao!", "goodbye, thank you!" and "cheers!" we gave him on our way out, continuing to scroll on his iPad or iPhone or whatever.
The D'espresso treatment isn't restricted to the confines of the café, however. Just as we had crossed the street after leaving, a tsunami of self-righteousness hurled itself at us in the form of the Thom-Yorke-ish man in the silly hat. "Guys, if you're going to sit at our café at least don't leave your fucking rubbish behind you" and so on. We had left behind two plastic bottles by accident, which we intended to give to a homeless person or dispose of later. To contrast his deeply patronising behaviour, we apologised and politely took our rubbish from his hands.
Avoid this place at all costs. It's no coincidence that "depressing" and "D'espresso" share so many letters. read more