Sisters Coffee Company in The Pearl District — Restaurant in Portland

This review is coming from a sideways direction, because I didn't go inside the coffee shop, but did interact with some of the employees there. Today (3/14/2022) I was nearing the end of my daily walk about two blocks from Sisters Coffee. I was waiting at the intersection of NW 12th and Lovejoy waiting for the crosswalk to change. A woman on the opposite side of the street walked out into traffic and towards me. As she got closer, I noticed that she was headed straight towards me, so I put my hands up and backed away. She punched me in the neck, hard! A bystander who saw what happened told me that he had seen her punch other people on the street. After the initial shock , I decided I could shake it off (this is Portland, nowadays) or I could hold her accountable. So far, Sisters Coffee had nothing to do with why this review is being written, but what follows does. I called 911 and kept my eyes on the woman who punched me so that I could tell the police where to find her. Eventually, after yelling obscenities (and other things which I won't detail here), she went into Sisters Coffee. I told the dispatcher and he asked me to stay outside and to not engage with my assailant, and then I hung up to await the arrival of an officer. While I waited outside on the sidewalk, an employee of Sisters Coffee came out and asked me if there was a problem? The woman who punched me was inside telling the customers and employees (apparently) that I was following her and that I was dangerous, etc. I corrected the employee and told him that the woman punched me and that I was awaiting the police. He asked me if I was hurt enough to go to the hospital, and if not, to let them handle her. He had a number he could call. I told him he was free to call his number, but I was the one punched and I wanted her held accountable. He asked again to not involve the police, so I asked him that "If he were the one that was punched would still feel like letting it go?" His response was, "Are you threatening me?" I asked him to leave me alone, and he and other employees went back inside. As the woman who punched me was being transported by the police, a different employee came out and asked the policeman assisting me if I was going to be arrested as well? For threatening her coworker? The policeman declined, but as things were wrapping up, a different policeman came over and told me that I was 'banned for lif from Sisters Coffee. That's the end of this particular interaction, but it's not really the end for me. Now, as I walk around downtown Portland (I live here), I have to be extra alert for anyone that approaches me. I feel super lucky and thankful that the woman who punched me in the neck didn't have a needle or knife in her hand, or that she didn't push me into traffic. For the next six months, until my lease expires and I can relocate, I have to be very cagey and distrustful of everyone as I go about my day, hopeful that what happened doesn't happen again. Oh, and I also can't get coffee from Sisters. I was unfortunate enough to be attacked in broad daylight and unlucky to have an entitled, semantically-challenged, not-his-business employee of Sisters come out and force a confrontation. But hey, if you've committed a crime, Sisters Coffee should be your go-to for a hot coffee and some weaponized personal judgment. I'll be sure to let everyone I know what to expect from ...

I left feeling deeply hurt and disappointed by Sisters Coffee’s lack of inclusivity for disabled customers. As a wheelchair user who often requires a straw to drink comfortably, I was shocked when the staff said they wouldn’t be providing straws to anyone, regardless of their disability.

Many people with mobility and strength issues can’t lift cups high enough to drink from them. Some individuals with poor motor coordination cannot safely hold a drink steady without spilling it. Bendable plastic straws allow individuals to nourish themselves and avoid spilling things on themselves, and others.

In some cases, reusable straws can be substituted but that isn’t always the case. Reusable straws need to be properly sterilized after every use. For people whose disability or living situation makes this impractical, if not impossible, reusable straws are simply not an option. Metal, bamboo, glass and acrylic straws pose injury risks, especially for those with tremors, spastic episodes, and temperature sensitivity conditions. Paper straws also put individuals at risk of choking. Compostable straws made of other natural materials increase the likelihood of allergic reactions, which can be deadly, and often require special processing to compost safely and correctly.  Reusable and/or alternative straws are also significantly more expensive for consumers and can be cost prohibitive. Many of us already have to preplan all our outings and carry medical supplies and equipment with us everywhere we go. Adding another thing to the list of vital things we have to carry with us creates more opportunities for something bad to happen if we forget or there is a spur of the moment change of plans.

The Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA) mandates that businesses make reasonable modifications to their policies, practices, or procedures to ensure accessibility for individuals with disabilities. This includes providing necessary aids, such as straws, when requested. By not offering straws, Sisters Coffee is not only being inconsiderate but also potentially violating federal law. The ADA ensures that no individual is discriminated against based on their disability, and reasonable accommodations are a crucial part of this protection.

What hurt the most was the way my request was brushed off by the staff. When I shared that I needed a straw due to my disability, they said, “just bring your own.” They eventually provided a straw today but they explained repeatedly that they would not provide one again. I felt dismissed and unimportant, which is an experience no customer should have, especially when it comes to something as basic as being able to drink a beverage.

I sincerely hope that Sisters Coffee reconsiders their policy and takes the necessary steps to comply with ADA requirements. All customers deserve to be treated with respect and dignity, and to be provided with the accommodations they need to enjoy their visit.

Until this issue is resolved, I cannot recommend Sisters Coffee, particularly to those who require reasonable accommodations. I hope they take this feedback seriously and work towards becoming...

Sister Coffee. This Morning.

I cradle the paper cup of coffee to warm my hand, watching the steam rise like a veil between me and the world. There’s something magical about viewing life through that gentle mist — it softens the edges. The café hums with mellow music. Outside, the city stirs — people pass by, cars drift along, life moves. Inhale. Exhale. Someone steps into the café and pauses, as if catching their breath from the rush outside. Others just dash in, grab their brew, and shoot it like a shot of courage. Inhale. Exhale. I breathe. Two doors. Which one would you choose? One decision made with intention, another by instinct. I like entering from Marshall Street. The old stone pavement greets you like an old friend — it adds warmth, a sense of quiet belonging. The entrance from 13th throws you straight into the storm — the city’s roar, a slice of the Hunger Games. A homeless man walks beside a sleek Tesla. Surrealism in real time. I order the rose latte. If you love roses — their scent, their flavor — you’ll understand. To me, rose tastes like childhood. My mother would offer a spoonful of rose jam, where soft pink petals swirled in syrup. I’d gaze into the jar like it held secrets. The fragrance would bloom in my mind as a bouquet of tea roses, and each petal — tender, with a delicate crunch — held a memory no other taste can match. The coffee here is my favorite. Not bitter, not too bright — just smooth, rich, and full. And every cup holds the imprint of the barista’s hands. This latte is art: milk foam crowned with petal-colored swirls that catch the eye and hold it. When I have the time, I climb to the mezzanine. From above, life looks different. Perspective shifts. Inhale. Exhale. And sometimes, up there, answers come — the kind you can’t find when you’re stuck...