Into Shelley’s Belly: Mudsmith Coffee on Greenville

Mr. Mocha (left); Brooke Humphries, owner (photos by Matthew Shelley)

If Tyler Durden opened a coffee shop after he married Janis Joplin and made babies atop Mount Badass, Mudsmith on Greenville Ave. would be that coffee shop.

The first time I ventured in here, I immediately turned around realizing that I wasn’t cool enough yet to patronize this cozy, wide open coffee shop. Its long and fertile interior beckoned to me like the lilies of eastern Fiji that crawl and tenderly awaken your pores before bringing you to your knees before the sun. I returned and quickly realized that I needn’t fret over my style or coolness, for the people at Mudsmith welcome you with warmth and generosity. They are quiet and gentle, and they work to please you without spoiling the privacy that so many come to coffee shops for.

Inside the muffin
The back room (left); The Blueberry Muffin (right)

Mudsmith’s offerings stretch from the early morning joe and pastries all the way into the evening’s alcoholic potion enchantments. The beer tap hosts an impressive array of craft beers that nearly drove me to get a buzz before noon. I withheld then, but I will return. It also offers wine and full-bodied sandwiches for lunch. I started out with a blueberry muffin and a cappuccino. The Fourbarrel Coffee tasted clean and smooth with an inviting kick and a hot tempered finish I expect from a sassy cup of the roasted beans. The cappuccino was smooth, rich, and deep with textured layers of caffeine and frothy milk. I was only overpowered by the absolute serenity that filled my mouth from the blueberry muffin. It had a thin, slight crisp around the exterior, but a dense and robust body that was bright with blueberry flavor and a true testament to the joy of muffin eating. Seriously, look at the picture and tell me you’re not going there right now to get one. Hurry.

The Slow Bar for the super hip (left); The Cortado (right)
Mudsmith interior

Next up, we had a mocha and some more delectable pastries. Mudsmith offers three danishes for $2? Holy happy mouth. I danced my fingers across each one, nibbling and moaning. They were fresh and sweet, with all the right softness and flaky crunch that makes my forehead sweat and my thighs tremble. The mocha was sweet as well, and creamy with chocolate and milky nuance. I can also never resist a croissant, so that found its way into my mouth as well, and it was no chump. I finished off my caffeine bonanza with the cortado. It was delightfully light and smooth with just enough coffee to calm my jolting nerves that spun and tarried about from over-arousal brought about by Mudsmith’s loving arms.

Le croissant


Mudsmith has a great deal of space to hold and rock you into transcendence. The large center stage bar is surrounded with wooden accents, big game taxidermy heads, hard lines, soft tones, and classic vintage styling. There is a record player, earthy colors, varied wall textures, and high ceilings. My favorite part is the back room. I believe it’s where Hemingway wrote his romantic letters to the queen of Spain after quietly debating Frank Sinatra on the perils of spear hunting. What I am trying to say is that I want to die in this room while star elves sing the songs of tree nymph goddesses over my corpse. This place will endure and for good reason. With all its charm, style, and warmth, the exceeding taste with which every aspect was handled signifies a true blessing for those who live here and get to enjoy such loving local delights. I managed to pester the owner, Brooke Humphries, for a photo, and was reminded again by her demeanor and passion as to why this place just rocks. Get off the internet and go to Mudsmith.


  • Tee-em

    I wanted to love this place, I really did. I should have gotten a blueberry muffin with my latte. Unfortunately, it was lunchtime on Saturday, so my husband and I got sandwiches. And they were awful. We searched for more than 2 tablespoons of actual chicken in an overly salty and saucy curried chicken sandwhich. The portobello sandwich was set on tasteless ciabatta and contained a tasteless mushroom cap about a third of the size of the bread. Worse than the taste was the price: $9.50 EACH! If you’re going to charge that much for a sandwich, it better be good. Otherwise, please don’t bother. I wanted to tell someone that worked there how disappointed I was, but the line out the door was growing and everyone was harried. To be honest, the latte was good, but not great. This place is in my hood so I want it to succeed. I really relish good coffee, so will give it a another try for that. But please fix the sandwiches. I won’t be buying another one, but others might.

    • Harrison

      I have now had all the sandwiches. I think you had an outlier / bad batch. If you like Salmon- that sammy was really good. The best by far is the jalapeno meatloaf with guava BBQ and Redneck Cheddar.

  • Hospitality Instructor

    I can’t tell if it was meant as tongue-in-cheek or what but I could barely make it through this review for the writing. “I was only overpowered by the absolute serenity that filled my mouth from the blueberry muffin. It had a thin, slight crisp around the exterior, but a dense and robust body that was bright with blueberry flavor and a true testament to the joy of muffin eating.” This kind of effusive nonsense abounds throughout the post. The whole thing should be bound in paperback so that Fabio can appear shirtless on the cover.