SEATTLE — It's hard to find a bad cup of coffee in Seattle, and that's not just because it seems like there's a Starbucks — or two or three — on every corner.
Although more than 100 of the ubiquitous green awnings dot the big coffee corporation's hometown, local favorites such as Zoka Coffee, Diva Espresso and Caffe Ladro are proving it's possible to survive and even thrive in the shadow of their much larger corporate competitor.
As other towns worry that Starbucks Corp. will run their local favorites out of business and rob their streets of quirky charm, the owners of several of Seattle's most beloved independent coffeehouses say they have found success by going the opposite route of their big competitor — making a selling point of being small.
"We try to stay a little more neighborhood — we try not to be too corporate," says Steve Barker, co-owner of Diva Espresso. "We're not mega-merchandise stores. We just try to sell coffee and pastry."
People are also reading…
But while Barker and others may toss small barbs at their bigger competitor, they also are the first to note that Starbucks pioneered the idea of paying up to $5 for a cup of joe, paving the way for them to follow.
"Starbucks is the best thing that ever happened to coffee," Barker says. "Without Starbucks, I don't think any of us would've survived."
The coffee giant also provides a convenient foil for companies such as Diva and Zoka, who point to it as the antithesis of the artisan coffee and quirky feel they seek with the scruffy floors, mismatched furniture and local artists' work that typify the smaller chains — and, in some ways, feed their success.
Inspired by Starbucks
Zoka owner Jeff Babcock says he was inspired to get into the coffee business after coming across Starbucks while he was a student in Seattle in the late 1970s. At that time, Starbucks was still a tiny company, known mainly to local residents who frequented its landmark store in Seattle's Pike Place Market.
"They had something that was special," Babcock remembers.
But by the time Babcock opened Zoka in 1997, after a stint in the coffee business in Florida, Starbucks had grown more institutional. He wanted Zoka to have that something special that he remembered from Starbucks' early days.
"I wanted to be the Porsche, not the Ford," he says.
For some smaller coffee purveyors, perks like free Internet connections, dog treats and the occasional complementary cup of coffee go a long way to keep customers from straying to the big-chain competitor.
Others stress the importance of getting to know the customer — learning not just what drink they prefer, but how they like it made — not too hot, with extra foam, or light on the chocolate.
That's been a mantra for Jack Kelly, who opened his first Caffe Ladro in Seattle's Upper Queen Anne neighborhood just two doors down from a Starbucks.
On a recent weekday morning, the narrow, funky space was bustling. Barista Natalie Bardsley estimates that as many as 90 percent of her customers are regulars.
Starbucks cultivated the idea of being a "third place" between work and home, but some who frequent Seattle's other coffeehouses say it can't offer the individuality of a smaller company.
On a recent sunny Tuesday afternoon at Zoka in Seattle's Green Lake neighborhood, Cezanne Ezekial, a nursing student, was taking advantage of the free Internet access and sipping iced tea in a back corner of the sprawling store. Ezekial says she's come every day for the last month because she likes the atmosphere, it's a good place to study and "it's not Starbucks."
Bigger is better?
Many of Seattle's better known coffeehouses have become mini-chains of their own, finding that the scale of several stores helps keep costs down. But several say they would hesitate to try to follow in Starbucks' footsteps.
Kelly now operates 10 Caffe Ladro stores in the Seattle area, and he won't rule out adding five more. But after that, he says, the company would have to start adding things, like a human-resources department, that wouldn't make economic sense.
Zoka's Babcock thinks he will eventually add to his two Seattle stores. But he worries that if he gets too big, his company won't be able to do things like spend weeks painstakingly training baristas using the methods his more seasoned employees follow for the competitive world barista championships.
"I don't want to get so big that the quality ever drops off in another store, and if we get really big then that would happen," he says.

