By Claire Magnuson
Artwork by Claire Magnuson

If, like me, you’re a student at WashU, you’ve found yourself unable to escape Kaldi’s Coffee’s spheres of influence. As the primary supplier to our university, they were the only on-campus coffee that you could imbibe with meal points before recent, welcome updates. Previously, the Starbucks in Bauer and the now-closed Einstein’s Bagels in Simon were our only saving graces. Kaldi’s cutesy cafes also bookend our campus at the corners of Demun & Northwood Ave. and Skinker & Forest Park Pkwy, with all other coffeeshop options pushed beyond the WashU bubble.

I, as a wee freshman, was an easy victim to the WashU Dining unlimited coffee refill cup. However, I soon found out the truth behind this 99 meal point scam: Kaldi’s bitter brew, whether hot or cold, morning or night, tasted like battery acid and gave me and all my friends the runs. To humble me further, this cheap, white cup spilled all over my backpack more than once. And believe me: the smell of the deep brown stain was rancid.

From then on, my ire for Kaldi’s only grew.

It’s not just about the quality of the caffeine. Coffeeshops are places to eat, to study, to daydream, to chat with friends, to go on first dates, and to sit and watch life flicker by. They break up the monotony of spending days inside cramming for exams or desperately writing final papers. They’re comfortable, reliable, and delightful. They’ve seen you through thick and thin.

As a Sam Fox student and an admittedly basic white girl, I of course frequented the cozy, ski lodge inspired establishment of the late Kayak’s Coffee, which once presided over the notorious corner of Skinker and Forest Park Pkwy since the early aughts. I was aware that they served the loathed Kaldi’s liquid, along with their own delicious, alpine-themed food menu. But I stomached the exorbitant costs and the less-than-delightful coffee taste for their delectable avocado toast and the vibe of sipping a fresh vanilla latte, topped with gorgeous swirls of creamy foam, out of a warm, comforting mug on a wintry morning. Besides, they made the coffee better in house.

To my despair, I witnessed the destruction of Kayak’s: the removal of its iconic gold sign, along with the southern-white-girl-dorm-room- ification of its innards. Gone was the gorgeous color palette of earthy green and gleaming gold against a rustic wooden interior. Now, you can only find cheery turquoise and bright white hues illustrating a haphazard remodel of Kayak’s that left the tactile wood furniture and the beloved hearth behind as monuments to what was lost. Gone were the waffles and bountiful selection of signature sandwiches. Now there was only Kaldi’s.

I’ve had a vendetta against Kaldi’s for years, and I find myself unable to escape it. Brunch spots in the area like Southwest Diner serve only Kaldi’s, and supposedly independent coffee shops like Sweet EM’s, Crave, Black Forest Kaffee Haus, and SLAM’s Cafe only serve Kaldi’s coffee, while local supermarkets galore line their shelves with these branded cans of sour brew. 

I was shocked to find out that, far from being a little local coffee chain, Kaldi’s more so resembles an international corporation.

Not only do they own and operate 10 cafes in the St. Louis area, but they also have one in Columbia, MO and three in Atlanta, GA (includ- ing on Emory University’s campus). Beyond officially branded cafes, Kaldi’s robust wholesale business supplies offices, universities, direct consumers, and more with bundles and bundles of beans roasted right here in St. Louis. Kaldi’s unyielding fingers can be found in the caffein- ated pies of Webster, SIUE, Southwest Baptist University, and two cafes in Springfield, IL. Unsatisfied with continental manifest destiny, Kaldi’s owners acquired a majority stake in a sister company called Honolulu Coffee with 11 locations in Hawaii, three in Guam, and two in Canada. There are also two dozen franchised Honolulu Coffee locations in Japan (before the pandemic, which caused closures).

Was it always this way? Was it in the manifesto of the original Kaldi’s, established in 1994, to expand its dominion across the globe, with quickness and haste?

No. It certainly wasn’t.

The founders entered a partnership with Tyler Zimmer and Tricia Zimmer Ferguson, two Missouri entrepreneurs, in 2004. Within a year, they had planned their first expansions into three more St. Louis locations. A year later, the brother-sister Zimmer duo had full control of Kaldi’s Coffee Roasting Co., and the St. Louis bean scene has never been the same since – for better or worse (for worse, in my opinion).

So, when does a beloved local chain become too big for its britches?

When is local no longer local? Who are we supporting? Is being headquartered in St. Louis enough to render something local?

That’s for you to decide.

But why are our $8 smoothies and $6 lattes fattening the wallets of a family that has dozens of cafes and wholesale relationships under its belt? It’d be one thing if we were truly funding the local economy and furthering “community commitment,” a goal that Kaldi’s self-reportedly extols, through fair wages. You may have seen Kaldi’s ‘We’re Hiring!’ signs advertising a $15 wage around campus. They, along with most employers, are facing a labor squeeze. But if you, like me, wondered if these signs meant all Kaldi’s employees earn $15 an hour, you’d be sorely mistaken. It turns out that they have an “average pay of around $14/hour!” according to Kaldi’s website. Note that this $14 includes tips and is the average – not the minimum.

This is a bit ironic, considering how much Kaldi’s hypes their fair-trade coffee business.

What’s more ironic is their domestic business ethic is reportedly not fair by any metric.

Back in June 2020, Kaldi’s official Instagram page posted a black square in support of Black Lives Matter. This released a torrent of complaints from current and former employees flooding the comment sections. The Riverfront Times and KSDK, a St. Louis television and news outlet, both covered the event and interviewed several current and former Kaldi’s employees. Among a range of accusations included dis- criminatory hiring practices, a lack of diversity in cafe staff, microaggressions, and unequal discipline of black employees. In response, Kaldi’s released a statement on their Instagram, which triggered even more revealing comments.

And what does this company, who self-reportedly prides itself on striving for openness and humility, do in response?

Delete the evidence, of course. The black square post has since been deleted, and the comment sections have all been disabled for every post in June 2020, in addition to several from May. The only remnant left behind is Kaldi’s own statements, which include, “hearing these accounts from former team members has demonstrated that we must assess the feedback and put in plans to improve.” Kaldi’s made it impossible for the general public to discover the skeletons in their closet after the fact. That is, unless you happened to dive into old social media conversations about Kaldi’s, Google “kaldis coffee racist,” or read those local articles. (And on the subject of transparency, Kaldi’s has 28,000 fol- lowers on Instagram, but doesn’t get more than 150 likes per post…)

So why does it matter that Kaldi’s is successfully performing a hostile takeover of our taste buds?

Feel free to mull it over, but I’ll share my brewing suspicions in the meantime.

While it’s doubtful that Kaldi’s is the only racially challenged hipster coffee shop business, their size lends too much power and credence to the discriminatory practices that reportedly are institutionalized at various levels and across multiple locations.

Kaldi’s says they’re trying to do better, but do we have any way to verify that? They certainly haven’t built much trust on the issue.

Their growth mindset is unsettling. Co-owner Zimmer Ferguson is quoted in a Mizzou-affiliated publication declaring, “Where there’s coffee being served, there’s always opportunities for us to expand.” A mindset geared towards constant growth overlooks more worthy goals, like running an equitable business or serving a superb product. Growth assessments, like GDP, wealth, or the everyday desire to have bigger, better, and newer things is partly why we’ve found ourselves at the doorsteps of many of today’s problems, including climate change, mass waste, and widening inequality. Instead, we can devise creative, individual goals that warrant creative solutions.

This local imperialism thwarts creativity and competition. Why is Kayak’s gone after nine years of peaceful coexistence? A new coffeeshop can just copy and paste Kaldi’s products into a location with different pastries and playlists. Bigger chains can better survive disruptions, like a pandemic, than tiny chains or independent businesses. It even stifles college campuses. Now, WashU has Chameleon in The Village, Starbucks at Bytes, and Peet’s Coffee at Cafe Bergson, all taking meal points, and we’re better for it. But these are very recent changes, and they came after decades of few options.

They make a bad name for other local, fair-trade coffee shops, or local businesses at large. We don’t want a world ruled by Amazons, Walmarts, and Disneys. But Kaldi’s is the most successful “local” brand that I’ve ever seen. If this is our “act local, think global” future, then miss me with that shoddy Shangri-la.

We deserve choice. This is America, goshdarnit. Give me burnt bean water or give me death! In preparation for this story, like the dutiful reporter I am, I frequented the establishment of Kaldi’s Coffee several times.

P.S. I recommend the maple clove latte, either hot or iced, their gooey butter cake, the mango cardamom smoothie, and, of course, the avo- cado toast.