"Vardo" panini—chicken breast, fresh baby spinach, Asiago cheese and smoked tomato dressing. Served with Italian potato salad. Cold and creamy mocha frappe—made with Ghiradelli chocolate. Home made blueberry cheesecake.

(photo: Rose Mattrey)

You might say that Madame Mocha’s is something a little out of the ordinary. It’s not a coffee shop, it’s an “espresso pub.” It’s not in Allentown or on Elmwood, it’s in Lovejoy. And while it has live music on Saturday nights, in the traditional, intimate coffehouse manner, the rest of the time, rather than normal coffeehouse fare, they play recordings of tansaigne, the traditional music of the Roma people, better known as Gypsies.

“My old lady’s a Gypsy,” says Paul, the owner, referring to his long-time partner Monica. Which might explain some of the more unusual trappings of the place—a set of Roma instruments on a shelf on the wall, fanciful paintings of Gypsies, a tasseled awning around the counter, a mannequin in the window posed beside a crystal ball. A sign in the back advertises tarot readings. Was it Monica’s influence, then, that drew Paul into this realm?

“I’ve been doing Tarot readings since I was eight,” Paul answers. He’s not your usual New Agey sort—his burly arms are tattooed and he has drummed in numerous assorted rock bands, local and otherwise. But he practices numerology and spiritual alchemy, and does astrology calculations as well, though he hasn’t time just now to do the time-consuming drawing up of charts. Monica does tasseomancy—the reading of tea leaves. Fortunate, then, that this is a tea shop.

But you don’t have to be psychic to understand the value of simply good food. Madame Mocha’s does things differently, its own way, but novelty is no substitute for quality. To start with, all of their coffee is 100 percent fair trade organic, which is something no other coffeeshop in the Buffalo area can say. Not only do they make excellent espressos, mochas and the normal fancy coffee drinks you expect in such a place (and for ridiculously low prices—a plain old coffee for $1.25, a fancy specialty mocha with six or seven ingredients for $3.75), but they also sell the coffee in bulk, so you can take it home and make your own. It’s quality stuff, though the prices don’t reflect that. (Ten dollars a pound for organic fair-trade coffee?)

Besides coffee, in the tiny retail section, Paul also sells locally made soaps, jams, jewelry and teas. He made us try some of the strawberry jam, made the old-fashioned way from local strawberries by JJ’s Jams. I have heretofore refrained from using this sort of language in these reviews but the phrase “orgasm in a jar” simply cannot be avoided in this circumstance.

To cool down a bit, they also offer Italian sodas ($1.50), made with all-natural Molin syrups. They’ve got smoothies ($3.50, even cheaper on Wednesdays), frappes ($3.65) and certified fair trade organic teas for $1.50. I don’t think Starbucks will even sell you the cup of water for $1.50, let alone heat it for you.

But more importantly, Madame Mocha’s offers a more extensive menu than many coffeeshops, and it includes a lot of things you won’t find anywhere else. Especially the Italian potato salad, served alongside the panini or wraps. It’s a family recipe and it’s exceptional: not mayonnaisey, but not greasy, it is full of savory herbs and the unexpected tang of garlic. Don’t miss this one.

The panini are something of a nod toward expected, trendy coffeehouse fare—but they are so well executed, they are not something you would find anywhere else. Besides the funny names that all hint at various aspects of Gypsy folklore, they’re simply tasty, and at $6.95, you more than get your money’s worth. The most appealing of them, to me, was the Bear Trainer, comprised of meltingly tender roast beef with Monterey jack cheese wrapped around onions, red peppers and portobello mushrooms. Grilled between two pieces of herbed focaccia, it was the best roast beef panini I’ve ever had.

We also sampled the Vardo. Named for a Gypsy caravan, it is indeed homey and yet unusual. Chicken breast, baby spinach, Asiago cheese and smoked tomato dressing, but as a treat, Paul substituted dandelion leaves for the baby spinach. It added an unexpectedly bright bitterness to the sandwich.

We had to try a wrap as well. The wraps are all $6.50, served cold or grilled, on either whole wheat, tomato basil or spinach tortillas. I chose the Madame Ravyn, though I couldn’t pronounce it—this isn’t the sort of coffee shop where anyone’s going to mock your pronunciation. Dried cranberries, chopped pecans, Brie cheese, cucumber, tomato, mushrooms—it’s everything I ever thought I might like, mixed in with field greens, drizzled with balsamic vinaigrette and wrapped warm in a tortilla.

The portions were large enough that we couldn’t possibly finish all this food, but we were determined to do a comprehensive survey, so we got the baked Brie too. It was a treat, hot and gooey with dried cranberries and pecans atop it, and crusty sourdough toast pieces to spread it on. And there was no way we could possibly turn up our noses at a piece of the blackberry cheesecake—it’s Paul’s mother’s recipe, with Monica’s inspired addition of fresh blackberries and a drizzle of the chocolate Ghirardelli syrup borrowed from the espresso counter. I do not know if I have ever had cheesecake like that. The blackberries were tart and sweet, balanced with the rich heaviness of the cheesecake and the delicate crunch of the graham crust.

Ah, I’m running out of time and have not yet mentioned the music. Or the breakfast—but no, there is too much to say. I think there may be a return visit in the cards.