5 Chicago Coffee Shops Where I Wrote My Funniest (and Most Humbling) Kitchen Mistakes

I have a habit that started out of pure self-preservation. Whenever I had a cooking disaster at home, I would grab my notebook, leave the kitchen before I threw something, and sit in a café to write about it instead.

Somehow, scribbling my failures in public kept me from giving up. After all, it feels a little dramatic to fling your notebook across the room when a roomful of strangers is watching.

Over time, these Chicago coffee shops became the backdrop to my funniest, messiest, and most humbling cooking lessons.

Each one holds a story of something I burnt, dropped, oversalted, or misunderstood completely. And somehow, with caffeine and a sense of humour, I kept going.

1. Intelligentsia Coffee on Broadway in Lakeview

This café is where I documented my very first attempt at biscuits. What came out of the oven looked less like biscuits and more like miniature hockey pucks someone might use for a tabletop version of the sport.

I remember sitting at Intelligentsia with a perfectly brewed cup of coffee, flipping through my notebook and writing the words, “Biscuits should not bounce.”

The atmosphere here always made me feel oddly confident. The steady hum of conversation and the baristas moving with effortless rhythm made me believe that I too could learn rhythm in the kitchen, even if I started at the level of weaponised baked goods.

2. The Wormhole Coffee in Wicker Park

With its playful retro decor and DeLorean in the back, The Wormhole reminded me not to take myself too seriously. This is where I finally admitted in writing that I needed actual knife skills.

Not fancy chef techniques, just basic competence that would stop me from sending carrot slices flying across the kitchen.

Sipping my latte surrounded by vintage posters, I wrote a full page confessing that chopping vegetables like a toddler with safety scissors was not sustainable.

Somehow, this 80s themed café made learning feel fun, and it marked the beginning of my slow improvement with a knife.

3. Sawada Coffee in the West Loop

Sawada Coffee is known for its strong matcha latte, and that strength was exactly what I needed the day I attempted burnt maple chicken. I followed a recipe that claimed it would be smoky. What I achieved was alarmingly close to charcoal.

I took refuge at Sawada afterward, sat by the window, and wrote an overly dramatic account of how the smoke alarm betrayed me.

The matcha gave me courage to laugh at myself and a little push to try again. Something about sitting in such an energetic, artistic environment makes you want to keep creating, even if your last creation was inedible.

4. Hero Coffee Bar in the Loop

Hero Coffee Bar became my midday escape one afternoon when a soup I was making unexpectedly split into two sad layers. I was on the verge of either tears or denial, so I chose coffee instead.

At Hero, with people bustling in and out and the smell of fresh brewed coffee all around me, I sat down and wrote a dramatic retelling of the moment I realised my soup had separated.

Writing it in public made it sound more comedic than tragic. By the time I finished my cup, I was ready to go home and try again.

5. Ipsento Coffee in Bucktown

Ipsento is where I celebrated an important milestone in my cooking journey. After years of confusion, disasters, and near-bribery of neighbours to take my leftovers, I made a stir fry that was genuinely delicious.

I went straight to Ipsento, ordered my favourite drink, and wrote about the dish like I was documenting the birth of my third child.

Their warm, cozy atmosphere made me feel proud of the small victory. I even allowed myself to flip back through older entries with a smile, realising how far I had come from my biscuit fiasco days.

The Message I Keep Returning To

If there is anything I have learned from writing my kitchen misadventures in Chicago cafés, it is that creativity thrives when caffeine and humility meet each other.

Cooking is messy, unpredictable, often embarrassing, and always a little funny when you look back. These coffee shops held space for me to learn, reflect, and laugh through it all.

And honestly, I think that might be the real recipe for becoming a better cook.