The latest libation station on Ballard Avenue isn’t pouring the kind of drinks you’ve come to expect from that boozy strip—but neither is it anyone’s Zen teahouse. Instead, Miro plies the vast terrain between: It’s a casual assemblage of scattered tables and comfortable couches where all manner of Ballard gambolers pause after dinner or between appointments, creating all the sociable buzz of a hoppin’ coffeehouse but none of the lubricated madness of a bar. The tea comes in 300 varieties—yerba maté, pu-erh, rooibos—and lots of botanicals among them. The staff will patiently help you navigate the list, then deliver your selection with mod accoutrements like flame-heated warmers and steeping timers. Hungry sippers order from a tight list of panini and pastries and chocolate confections, but the cognoscenti stick with the crepes filled with sweets like roasted apple, fig, and walnuts or seasonal savories like sausage, kale, and white beans. They’re masterful, pulling off substantial and delicate simultaneously—not unlike this novel teahouse.