When we want to communicate to some visiting out-of-towner just what it is we love about this hip, hot, higgledy-piggledy town, we take them here. Crazy terraces of treacherously lain bricks, and the odd tree or two, create an abundance of intimate spaces. Seating is a hodge-podge of salvaged chairs and tables and booths. Christmas lights crisscross overhead, and hanging lamps of all eras and colors festoon the covered porch. This patio is one of our favorite places in all of Austin.

The clientele is pure eclectica: students and punks and professionals. The music’s always fantastically chosen—like Jack Black’s High Fidelity snob is having a barbecue. There’s a wide range of serviceable espresso drinks and coffee; microbrews and global standards on draft and more in bottle; and cheap and nasty wine, which makes better sangría. Don’t expect much from the classic cocktails, like an overly sweet Pimm’s Cup; coffee-liquor combos are best here.

The food’s universally understood to be beside the point, but there are some decent options. Spicy vegetarian chili, despite its meat substitute, is fine; not true for bland queso, however. Sandwich meats are dry, the bread dense and crumbly. Service can strike an attitude if you show even a hint of one, but you won’t—you can’t. Not on a hot summer night with live music or perhaps an outdoor screening of some cult classic, amid the chirrup of crickets and Austin’s humming joy at knowing it gets it to live here.