Since 2006 (if not earlier), this hole-in-the-wall café has served the Brazilian expatriate community through juices (sucos — e.g., cajá, cajú), savory pastries (salgados), and desserts (sobremesa). The non-expat patrons seem to come here to get their açai bowl freak on, which means somebody is reading all those spam e-mails. All of which puts into doubt whether Western Civilization has evolved any since Juan Ponce de León’s belief in exotic sources of eternal life. (Thank you, Oprah.)

Inside this tight space there are three café tables with stools and authentic Brazilian Portuguese speakers and soccer (futebol) on Brazilian TV. There’s a single, tiny sidewalk café table in front.

Sun Stream Coffee is right past the bold Brazilian expat come-on Entrance to Sun Stream Coffee

Using a rather dingy-looking two-group La Pavoni, they pull “cafe expresso” (sic) shots with a pale, thin crema. The staff is rather clueless about the origins of their coffee beans other than that they’re “Brazilian.” The shots are ridiculously tall — to the rim of the cup — so it’s surprising there’s much of a body at all given its watery nature. Flavorwise, their espresso tastes of muted and diluted mild spice.

Stick to the cafezinho (Brazilian coffee) instead — but even that isn’t very good. Which is too bad, because there’s a lot here to like: from the Brazilian expatriate vibe to the coxinhas. For a country that provides the world with so much coffee — and a culture that gave us arguably the greatest movie of the past decade — the coffee here is a major disappointment.

Read the review of Sun Stream Coffee.

Inside Sun Stream Coffee's cramped quarters, with the La Pavoni peeking from under the far counter The Sun Stream Coffee espresso - every bit as bad as it looks