George Howell's online hub for some of the best single-origin coffees around

Although it's not until July, the anxiety has begun. My mom has a little summer cabin in upstate New York; I’m not sure if you've been to upstate New York, but there’s not a lot of coffee going on. You can buy vacuum-sealed packs of Starbucks at the local Walmart, but it tastes like just that: vacuum-packed coffee that's been sitting on a shelf forever. My sisters and I visit over the July 4th weekend, and the caffeine situation always disappoints. Last year we made the mistake of having my Aunt Jill bring us beans in from the city. She brought Folgers. Jill will not be bringing coffee again this year. So I've decided to be proactive. I'll obviously bring some beans when I come up--probably Blue Bottle or Four Barrel (who both do shipping, by the way) but I've been doing a little research for my mom who will be there all summer and who has resorted to those little instant sleeves of coffee. So Mom, this post's for you or for anyone who could use some good beans arriving on their doorstep.

Let's face it: coffee's come a long way from the days when the gals from Friends had their foamy latte or when picking up a bag of Sumatra on the way home from work felt pretty exotic and edgy. In his recent piece for Time Magazine, Josh Ozersky details where we find ourselves today, the "Third wave" of coffee: buying prized lots of single-origin beans and roasting them less frequently, treating coffee as seasonal, and paying attention to slight nuances in bean selection and roasting technique. Essentially, the artisan roasters I'm about to discuss have left Starbucks in the dust.

And a quick side note: While I've tried some of the coffees below, I haven't sampled all of them. I've done some research and talked to coffee folks about the most highly respected roasters and what they're up to. So this post is really more about options and starting to think about coffee in a new way more than it is a "Best of" piece.

Intelligentsia

Chicago's favorite artisan roaster

This was my go-to spot when I was in Chicago for a wedding a few summers back. The space itself is stark and modern yet simultaneously warm and inviting. And the espresso is almost sweet on its own. I was hooked. They work closely with the actual coffee producers, not just the importers or exporters, so they control quality from the beginning. While many roasters claim to do this, Intelligentsia is there each month of the year--aiming to forge a true collaboration. Intelligentsia is also known for their adamancy that coffee is seasonal, and they try and educate their consumers daily. As a mass product, so many of us are in the mind-set that good coffee is a year-round crop, and it's just not. Depending on the origin, the coffee bean is just like any piece of produce at the store: it has its high season. Intelligentsia only wants you to try it then, so you choose your coffee depending on when it was harvested. For this reason, you won't see twenty different types of coffee on their website: you'll find a few blends, a few single-origin coffees and two or three reserve coffees.

Terroir

Terroir's impressive education page

George Howell's been on the fine coffee hunt since 1975--some people see him as the trailblazer for sourcing fine boutique lots around the world. The thing that makes Terroir stand out is their firm commitment not to use blends, and their belief that in the same way you wouldn't mix fine wines, you shouldn't mix fine quality coffee. Like some of the other roasters listed here, educating the consumer is part of their mission, so they've actually created an excellent link page with information on everything from How to Keep Roasted Coffee Fresh to Principles of Brewing Coffee. In their shop, you can search by Region, Top Selling Coffees, Category (Organic, Decaf), or even pick up brewing equipment. When you click on a specific region, Terroir provides an overview of the area, and in-depth information on the coffee beans for purchase. They go farther than typical information about taste and origin, listing considerations like the type of soil, altitude, and farm size. They want the consumer to feel a similar connection with the bean that they initially felt when purchasing it.

Counter Culture

Searching by region at Counter Culture

Out of Durham, North Carolina, Counter Culture is known for their "micro-lots" and fabulous single-estate coffees. They don't keep much roasted coffee on hand because they're adamant about roasting to order and bagging and shipping on the same day. If you happen to live in North Carolina, they extend their mission to create cutting-edge coffee people by offering a variety of coffee courses, from Beginning Espresso Lab to Milk Chemistry Lab. They also offer free weekly cuppings or tastings. For those of us who aren't so lucky to live close by, they make purchasing online a cinch with brief notes on each coffee, allowing you to search by region (Africa, The Americas...), microlot, or their custom blends (I've heard from an old college friend that the Crook's Corner blend is like nothing else--a little bit sweet and nutty at the same time). For the online or mail-order shopper, they also do Coffee subscriptions.

Ecco Caffè

Sonoma's favorite boutique roastery

Sonoma's artisan coffee roasting company has a thriving online and wholesale business and a cache of major industry awards. Andrew Barnett's signature organic coffee roaster, custom roasts each batch in the Northern Italian style--with enough time for the flavor profiles to surface but not long enough for bitterness to ensue. All coffees are shipped within 24 hours of roasting--not something that many roasters claim or guarantee these days. On his website, Barnett says, "I like to introduce to people flavors that open them to the world of exemplary coffee...premium coffees that are roasted properly taste great and leave a pleasant sweet aftertaste, similar to great wines and chocolates." And good news for us: Eater SF reported last month that Ecco is moving to an undisclosed location in Potrero Hill. It's slated to be a café and roastery, allowing Bay Area folks to taste the sweet, single-origin espresso whenever the urge should strike.

Barefoot Coffee

Checking out the Barefoot Coffee homepage

Barefoot is another artisan roaster that's adamant about seasonality and freshness of the bean. On the landing page of their website, they have a big space advertising a few coffees that are "Fresh Arrivals" and discuss treating coffee like any other high-quality, sought-after kitchen ingredient. Online, they explain the importance of "Realizing that each bean is affected by soil, varietal, processing, farm, elevation, micro-climate and every hand that crafts it, we are determined to let the coffee speak for itself." They don't describe their coffees as "dark" or "bold," but work to actually describe the flavor and essence of each roast. What I really love about Barefoot is their humble, straight-up way of explaining what they do and why they do it. They genuinely believe that good people who love what they do produce good coffee, so they travel to seek those folks out and work to maintain relationships with them. Their motto, "If you love the coffee, it will love you back" just makes sense and translates to whatever business or endeavor you find yourself in. They're also a recognized leader in sustainable and environmental stewardship, making great strides with green energy, composting, and using a small, local dairy source for their café.

Bringing Them Together

GoCoffeeGo

The relatively new online source gathering the best artisan roasters in one place

On some days, I find myself bombarded with irrelevant information and promotions from food PR people. But a few weeks ago, I got a note from GoCoffeeGo just to introduce themselves and tell me what they're up to. Since then, I've basically fallen in love with the site. If you're not familiar with them, they were founded by local coffee junkies, Scott Pritikin and Elise Papazian, with the goal of bringing together the country's top award-winning artisan roasters on one site with one stream-lined checkout. The coffee is roasted to order and shipped directly from the roaster to the customer (that being said, the shipping time can vary so if you need it pronto, do a little research on the ETA). It's kind of like the Amazon of artisan coffees: organized, streamlined, great customer service, and a really good product. The coffee selection is stellar. They carry most of the roasters I mentioned above, but they also carry one of my favorite local roasters, Equator Coffee and Tea out of San Rafael. Other great choices include Ritual, Verve, and Higher Ground.

Lattes at Matching Half Cafe

So I moved to the city a few weeks ago. After enduring many sweaty hours of I can't imagine anything I'd rather be doing less, I've vowed never to move out of my apartment for as long as I shall live. Yes, the size of the kitchen will take a little getting used to, and I may never have a grown-up dinner party. But moving is just no fun. Getting the couch up the four flights of stairs was an unspeakable feat. That being said, I've put it all behind me and am settling in just fine: finding my favorite grocery store, getting the bus route figured out, exploring yoga studios to find one I like and--of course--drinking lots of coffee.

Now the Internet's a pretty big part of my life since I do a lot of writing from home. And since Comcast rarely works with anyone's ideal schedule, they couldn't come out for five days after I moved in, so I set out researching some free Wi-Fi which brought me to the following neighborhood gems in the NOPA/Western Addition neighborhood. While the free Wi-Fi is what initially attracted me to these coffee shops, I love each for different reasons and still go frequently despite the fact that the wireless is up and kickin' at home.

The Matching Half

Airy and industrial interior of Matching Half Cafe

The Matching Half is one of those places I'm excited to bring people to. Yes, come and check out the new digs, and I'll take you to my new favorite coffee place. Those are words I've uttered numerous times in the last few weeks. And before telling you all about how rad it is, a quick disclaimer for the laptop crowd: there are very few outlets, so if you've got a laptop battery that's hanging on for dear life, this may not be the best choice. However, it's great for so many other reasons, and I'm almost hesitant to talk about it because I like its tucked-away, not-too-crowded, neighborhood appeal. I appreciate places that pay close attention to each detail, from the lovely ceramic cups to the metal bar, to the stark but warm industrial space. I love the menu penned on craft paper. I love the vivid, industrial painting by Mike Shankman.

When not working, settling into one of the window-side tables is prime people watching territory. There are dog walkers, young families buying treats and hanging at the outdoor tables, and runners cruising towards the Panhandle. And the coffee: this is not quick in-out-and-on-with-your-life coffee. It really is slowly and carefully prepared and it shows. The lattes are beautiful and strong, and they have numerous single-origin drip coffees brewed to order. They also have a small but nice selection of breakfast pastries (the croissants are buttery, flaky goodness), sandwiches and salads.

And while I haven't had the pleasure of having a glass of beer or wine--it's sure to happen in the coming week. They do happy hour specials from 4pm-6pm daily, and have some interesting bottles of beer available. Like Old Rasputin Russian Imperial Stout and PBR in a bottle. Right now they actually have a breakfast panino and PBR special. I can't say that I've ever had PBR in a bottle and I definitely haven't had PBR for breakfast...but here's to a new home and new beginnings, perhaps PBR and all.

The Matching Half
1799 McAllister (@Baker), San Francisco, CA 94117
(415) 674-8699
Hours: Mon.-Thurs.: 7am-7pm; Fri. 7am-10pm; Sat. 8am-10pm; Sun. 8am-6pm.
Cash only.

Café Abir

Storefront of local favorite, Café Abir

Café Abir prides itself on roasting their own coffee daily in their micro-roasting machine. They make a rock-solid Americano and a nice, strong latte. But so do many places in the city. So what sets Café Abir apart? What I like is their varied workspace: they have a giant, communal table along with raised round tables with red velour booths that feel like little work nooks. They play good 80's music: I've been sitting here writing for the past hour and there's been some classic Heart, Bruce Springsteen and Men at Work. Good stuff. And they also have tons of individually wrapped treats, from slices of cake, to apricot bars and chocolate-dipped Rice Krispie bars. I'll admit, before I'd stocked the kitchen and actually gotten a feel for the 'hood, I had my fair share of their giant Rice Krispie treats.

Café Abir serves Numi tea, and a few different selections of beer and wine. In the evening, I've seen couples having a bottle of beer, presumably before heading out to one of the bars nearby. The red velour couches are that good--and when it's warm enough, the outdoor tables are prime for Divisadero people watching. So while there are dozens of incredible coffee joints around town, I'm thankful Abir's close by, and that they're open a bit later than most.

Café Abir
300 Fulton Street (@ Divisidero)
San Francisco, CA 94117
(415) 567-6503
Hours: Daily, 6am-10pm
Cash only.

Apollo Coffee

A quiet Sunday afternoon at Apollo Coffee

When I first moved in, Apollo had a sign on the front door that they'd be closed for the next week. I wasn’t sure if this was because of the construction on Divisadero or because post-holiday business is just darn slow, and it's a smart business move to shutter for a few days. Regardless, I'm happy they're up and running now. This is quite literally the perfect place to get work done--oftentimes I actually feel guilty talking on the phone because the atmosphere is so conducive to quiet work and reading that it tends to have more of a library vibe than a happening coffee house vibe. So while you won’t hear the hippest live music here, there's tons of comfortable individual seating, lots of outlets, and great natural light. It's uber-clean, and the owner is incredibly friendly.

The lattes are great. Their espresso has smooth, sweet notes. And the drip coffee is strong--even though I have a coffeemaker at home, the houseguests I've had prefer to cruise over to Apollo for a cup. They have a small selection of breakfast pastries and scones, panini for lunch, and a great selection of snacks like Lara Bars, Dagoba chocolate, mini brownies, and mini truffles. In fact, I noticed a lot of options for the chocolate aficionado here, from chocolate bars to dark chocolate cupcakes. They sell beer and wine as well, although I think the hours at Apollo aren’t so conducive to this. When asked about the early hours, the owner commented that it's a much quieter part of Divisadero, and maybe in the summer they'll stay open a bit later. Until then, I'm sticking to the coffee, the quiet, and the chocolate.

Apollo Coffee
1064 Divisidero St. (between Turk and Golden Gate Blvd)
San Francisco, CA 94115
Hours: Mon.-Thurs. 8am-7pm; Fri.-Sat. 8am-6pm; Sun. 9am-6pm

See these Greek coffee grounds? They just told me my future.

I am sitting here, wired and edgy from two cups of the stuff, trying to let my mind become open to what the residue left behind is trying to tell me.

And I am not entirely sure what to make of it.

Of course, there are a lot of people who might not know what I'm talking about, since I have encountered a hell of a lot of people who don't even know what Greek coffee is, let alone what Greek coffee can tell a person.

Greek Coffee

A lot of people who come into our restaurant have no idea what Greek coffee is. When I ask these people if they have ever had Turkish coffee and they reply in the affirmative, I can simply say, "Well, it's just like that, only we don't say 'Turkish' much around here." If they reply in the negative, well, that's a different story. I explain that Greek coffee is made from a fine, powdery coffee grounds, that sugar is added to suit the drinker's taste and that, after it has come to a boil, the coffee-- grounds and all-- are poured into a little, white cup. And, of course, that it is an excellent beverage to consume if one has a lot of house cleaning to do in the immediate future or if one is about to go out dancing-- it's that caffeinated.

When guests see the huge, heated cauldron of sand we use for making the coffee at the end of a hallway that leads into the main dining room point and ask "Oooh! What's that for?", most of the time I will cheerfully tell them it is where we make the coffee. Other times, when I have tired of answering that question for the twentieth time that evening, I remain polite, but tell people it's a repurposed baptismal font-- a sad reminder of how everyone seems to have lost their faith these days or, more commonly, that it is a more sanitary place for the cats who roam the restaurant after hours to do their business.

When people read our dessert menu and see the coffee advertised as heated over hot sand and ask, "So there's sand in the coffee?" I tell them that Greeks, like most birds, need to eat sand and small rocks to help them grind up their food. It's a genetic fluke, but it they make it work for them.

And then I might tell them the truth-- that, traditionally, coffee was heated over hot coals and that, since placing the boiling vessel (briki) directly over the coals would burn the coffee, sand was used to diffuse the heat and provide stability for the wide-bottomed, long-handled thing. I then mention that most people now boil their coffee on their stove tops (as pictured above), but that wouldn't be nearly as attractive as doing it in the sand, now would it?

Fortune Telling

Apart from the caffeine, the best thing about drinking a cup of Greek coffee is knowing that, as you drink it, you are sealing your own fate-- from how you sip, to how you swirl the cup-- you are influencing the placement of the grounds that settle into a sort of mud at the bottom. It is from this mud that one's future can be divined. It's an old tradition that dates back to the Turks (who introduced their own, slightly darker-roasted coffee to the Greeks), of course, but one never mentions that.

I've been reading Greek coffee cups for years. Not that I'm Greek, mind you-- I just work in a Greek restaurant where, unsurprisingly, Greek coffee is served. And I look just Greek enough that people don't think twice about asking me to tell their fortune.

"You want me to read your fortune?" I'd say when people first started asking. "Oh, I'm not Greek. Let me go find a Greek person who can do it for you." Of course, this irritated the hell out of most of the ethnically Greek staff. It's not as if they weren't busy enough what with chain-smoking outside, eating in the back hallway, or overwhelming their bussers with work.

So, one day, I just pretended I knew what I was doing and started reading peoples' coffee grounds. And I quickly found out how good I was at it.

My foray into cafeomancy (the reading of coffee grounds) began when I was stuck serving a private dinner in our downstairs dining room-- where one is fairly isolated from the main action of the restaurant. Two members of the party were drinking Greek coffee. When one of them asked if I could read her cup, I thought, "Well, why not?" I just might be able to bee-ess my way through it.

As I examined her grounds, mindful of the fact that I had absolutely no knowledge of what any of the traditional symbols might mean, I looked at the grounds as if it were my own, personal Rorschach Test and went to town.

"I see two figures-- one is hunched, the other is walking upright. Both are moving away from the handle of the cup. I'm not certain that these are two, separate people." And then I thought a moment and said, "I think they both represent you. My guess it that you have just gone through or are going through something difficult or painful (crouched figure). The upright figure, however, tells me that you are going to come out of it just fine."

There. Nice and vague, but with a happy ending.

And then, the woman's husband said,"Let me see that thing. My wife has been recovering from major back surgery." He and his wife were more than a little shocked that such a thing could be told from the sludge found along the side of a cup, but they both saw what I saw. Score one for the non-Greek, bee-essing waiter. Beginner's luck, I thought.

The second coffee drinker enthusiastically handed me his cup. I held the cup under the light of a floor lamp, did a bit of chin-scratching, uttering "hmmms" and "well, this is interesting" as I looked, then finally came back to the man to say, "I see two men in a rowboat. One of the men is you. The other person, it seems, is rowing in the opposite direction-- against you. All I can say is that you and someone important in your life are working against each other." Not exactly a rosy future, but that was the first thing that came to mind.

He grabbed the cup and showed it to his wife. "I had a huge fight with my best friend this weekend." His wife added that her husband and his erstwhile best friend were on a crew team together. I had stunned the crowd. And myself a little, too-- I had no idea I was such a gifted bee-ess artist. I received an enormous gratuity that night, in case you were wondering.

Perhaps the greatest fortune of all was not divined by me-- I merely confirmed it. Shortly after my success in the private dining room below, I waited on a husband and wife upstairs at the table closest to the Greek coffee sand pit. As the husband was sipping his coffee, I offered to read his fortune when he had finished. "That's okay, I'll read it for him," said his wife. When he got down to the mud, he swirled his cup three times, placed the saucer upside down over his cup and turned them both over to do their thing.

A few minutes later, the wife called me over. "You looked puzzled," I said, "what's the matter? Bad fortune or something?"

"Oh, it's not bad. I just want to know if you see what I see, because I've never seen anything like this." I took the cup and held it under the light. There was no mistaking what I saw. There on the side of the cup was the profile of a woman (it was unmistakably a woman with big, poofy hair and almond-shaped eyes) with her mouth wide open around (but not quite touching) something protruding horizontally from the middle part of a male figure.

"Well? Do you see what I see or am I just crazy?" she asked.

"I see something, but I don't quite know how to phrase it without sounding, um, crude. That's the most sexually graphic cup I've ever seen." I replied.

"Then you saw exactly what we both saw," she answered with a grin. Her husband immediately asked for the check. The cup, by the way, went straight to the office downstairs where everyone could take a look.

I've had enough with other peoples' fortunes for the moment. I want to know a little more about my own future, for a change. No one has ever read my coffee grounds. So I would like you to do it for me, since one is not supposed to read one's own grounds, according to the Greeks (the Turks, however, are not so strict upon this matter).

But I'm going to do it anyway.

In my cup, I see a giant rabbit falling from a rock onto a small dolphin with water spouting from its blow hole. Or maybe it's a whale. According to one source, a rabbit implies timidity, while a whale is representative of financial success. Personally, I feel I must be the timid, shy little rabbit (Rabbit, incidentally, was the pet name given to me by a boyfriend many years ago). Does this mean I will fall upon better times in the year ahead? Fall (I hope figuratively rather than literally) into money and good fortune? Well, that would certainly be welcome news, since 2009 was pretty much a washout in terms of, well, just about everything.

Here's hoping we all fall upon better times in 2010.

Happy, happy New Year or, as my Greek brethren say it Chronia pola.

Vietnamese Coffee, Trung Nguyen

Enjoying your slow-drip coffee is a quintessential part of life in Vietnam. Whether you're stoopin' it, shouting your order down the street to the local coffee cart on the corner, or enjoying a carefully prepared cup in an upscale coffee house, Vietnamese coffee is meant to be savored and enjoyed to the max.

One reason is the time it takes to brew a cup. Vietnamese coffee is not for the rushy-rushy. Single servings are brewed through a simple metal filter called a Phin, which takes a good 5-10 minutes to produce a cup. The filter is fitted over the top of a cup, or glass (if you're making iced coffee), the grounds are placed inside the filter (about the same size grind as what you would use for a French press), a small weighted piece is placed on top, and then hot water is poured into the chamber.

Vietnamese coffee, Phin filter

Another reason to approach the experience with leisure is simply the heavenly flavor. Like espresso, Vietnamese coffee is deep and rich, and a little goes a long way. What makes it really stand out though in my mind, is its incredible buttery aroma and flavor. It wasn't until I bought some roasted beans from a mom-and-pop coffee/tea shop that I learned why exactly the coffee tasted so buttery -- you got it, it's because the beans are actually roasted in clarified butter! Brilliant.

As if that doesn't sound decadent enough, sweetened condensed milk is typically used in lieu of cream and sugar both for practical reasons (it doesn't have to be refrigerated) and for taste (Have you had sweetened condensed milk lately? Think creamy, thick, dulce de leche goodness...in your coffee...everyday!). This is why Vietnamese coffee is a habit I could really get used to.

Vietnamese Iced Coffee (Ca Phe Sua Da)

In Saigon, with so much fantastic coffee everywhere we turned, it was tough to be too discriminating. So, I left it to the locals to show me the way. Vietnam is a country of food-lovers and total coffee addicts. My favorite conversation starter was asking a local: Where is the best food in town? People would bubble over with recommendations and loved talking about their favorite food, where to get it, and how to eat it. Everyone had an opinion.

One afternoon, over a Lazy Susan laden with dim sum, an impassioned discussion over the most delectable banh xeo, the silkiest tofu, the best hand-pulled noodles with half a crab on top, turned into a full-on debate over where to grab coffee afterward. One fellow named Nguyen insisted, "The best coffee is at my sister's place," and after a few nods of acquiescence from his accompanying friends, we were off to taste for ourselves if he was indeed correct.

We hopped on our motorbikes and went caravanning off through the maze of commuters. Put-putting over main highways, over to District 7 we went...on a mission for the perfect Ca Phe Sua Da (iced coffee with sweetened condensed milk). It was spontaneous, exhilarating, and as the wind whipped through my hair, I couldn't help but envision Anthony Bourdain's crew on our tracks, kicking up some dust behind us.

Saigon Motorbike Ebb and Flow

What we came upon was a breezy little oasis of an internet cafe, tucked away amongst sprawling new developments and construction sites. The cafe itself is called Goc Peo, but the main signage outside speaks to the main reason for visiting -- the rich and aromatic Trung Nguyen coffee served.

Coffee time at Trung Nguyen

Trung Nguyen seems to have made a nice business for itself, their chains and signs are all over Saigon, as well as the airport gift shop, and while the prices are expensive by Vietnamese standards, they are still relatively cheap by US standards (a cup of their famous "Legendee Coffee" was about $2 USD). Incidentally, Trung Nguyen has a pretty comprehensive website that explains all about what defines Vietnamese coffee and makes it unique, namely:

1) The topography of the Annamite Range has allowed for a diverse variety of beans to flourish in Southeast Asia. By blending a variety of bean species (Arabica, Robusta, Excelsa and Catimor) rather than sticking to a single-source (like 100% Arabica), a broader flavor range is achieved.
2) A lower-temperature, longer roasting process that is stable and consistent.
3) Roasting the beans in clarified butter.

Another interesting fact I learned about Trung Nguyen's coffee is that they produce what they call their Legendee Coffee, a "unique enzymatically-treated coffee that releases flavors bound in the beans and not released under ordinary processing." The Legendee Coffee was what Nguyen brought us to taste. Read more about the Legend of Legendee and how modern science has attempted to reproduce the infamously expensive (and kinda gross) Kopi Luwak coffee, made with the help of the weasel-like civit.

My final verdict? The Legendee was worth experiencing, although a little intense for me to want to drink on a daily basis.

Vietnamese Iced Coffee, Trung Nguyen

Regardless, it was a joy to spend an afternoon in pursuit of the perfect cup with company who really loved their coffee. Company who loved it so much, they continued on their way, buzzing away to the next cup as we rookie tourists bid farewell.

ADDRESS

Goc Peo
So 16 Duong 8B, KDC Trung Son
Nguyen Van Cu noi dai – TP. Ho Chi Minh City
Vietnam

This was supposed to be an easy-does-it post...

Go to Coffee Bar. Go to Coffee Bar to get a beautiful, just-for-you cup of Clover-made coffee. Go to Coffee Bar because it is not Starbucks, which, not surprisingly, is just around the corner.

And then, upon my second trip into the place, I bugged the barista into letting me take pictures of my coffee being made:

202 Degree F. water goes in, barista stirs with care...

Machine works like a big French Press in reverse and makes what looks like a giant, overbaked sugar cookie...

Out comes one of the best cups of coffee I've ever had...

Blah, blah, blah...

Well, I thought, spending more than $10,000 on a coffee machine is so absolutely worth it! And so is the $3.00 charged per cup. Really.

I still think so. If you are a coffee lover and have not had Clover coffee, I suggest you do so. Now.

I was feeling so self-satisfied. I'd had a long, pleasant walk, I was in a sleek, beautiful space with a good book clutched under my arm, and I was being very well caffeinated by a cup of coffee so strong and well balanced, that I felt no need to add sugar or cream, which is atypical of my style. I normally drink kindercafe in the morning. I had everything I needed for a good half hour's rest-and-refuel.

And then the barista told me that Starbucks had recently bought the company that makes the Clover machine. I felt as though the Publisher's Clearing House van had just pulled up to my house and, as Ed McMahon was about to hand me my bouquet of balloons and over-sized check, my doctor telephones me to tell me I have only two weeks to live. A certain bitterness crept into my otherwise perfect cup of coffee. I think it was my tears. Or perhaps some of the bile that rose from my esophagus as I tried to digest the news.

Perhaps Starbucks saved enough money from the tips they stole from their baristas to buy Clover's soul.

I suppose a small consolation is that Coffee Bar was able to purchase its Clover before Starbucks wrapped its caffeinated tentacles around it. And that it's very much worth experiencing.

I also love the fact that the folks at Coffee Bar are pleasant, helpful, and relatively no-nonsense about their coffee. Their coffee menu is simple:

Sorry, Yelp woman, no cinnamon. Bring your own if it's that much of an issue for you.

Remind me later to tell you about my mixed feelings about Yelp.

Go to Coffee Bar for a nice, big cup of this:

Nuff said.

Coffee Bar
Open Daily from 7 am
1890 Bryant Street
(Mariposa and Florida)
San Francisco, CA
94110
415-551-8100

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In coffee circles, a lot of noise has been made recently about the Clover Brewing System -- a coffee machine which reportedly comes close to brewing the perfect cup of coffee. The machine costs $11,000 and achieves cup-by-cup perfection via computer chips, Internet connection, and programming capabilities for every part of the brew process including temperature, water amount, and brewing time.

In an article for Slate, Paul Adams tests out the Clover, and considers its effect on the coffee industry:

"The immediate consequence of the Clover and its precision isn't necessarily better coffee, but more attention to coffee. By creating this rigorous laboratorylike brewing environment, it encourages cafes to explore the nuances of different beans, where and how they're grown and dried and sorted and roasted."

The Clover Coffee Maker

Over the past two years, Clover has been much more of an anomaly than the norm. Approximately 200 of the individually-produced machines are scattered around the country, and they are found in small, independent coffee bars.

Until now.

Last week, Starbucks held its annual shareholder meeting. As a reaction to poor earnings and share price drops, CEO Howard Schultz announced a five-point plan to help revive the company. Part of the plan involves the acquisition of the Coffee Equipment Company, the company that makes the Clover Brewing System. Starbucks will have exclusive rights to the Clover and is planning to introduce the machine to 30 percent of its stores in 2008.

"I think it's very interesting," said James Freeman, owner of Blue Bottle Coffee. Freeman thinks that Starbucks is generally a good company that treats its workers well, and has a place in the coffee world. They've been "good for the specialty coffee industry" and are a good training ground for customers. Customers often start learning about coffee at Starbucks and then move on to smaller coffee houses to further explore the nuances of a great cup of coffee.

Freeman doesn't use a Clover at any of his coffee locations -- he's more a fan of a drip bar: a simple filter system in which the perfect temperature water is poured over coffee grounds into a waiting cup. "Clover is about dialing in the parameters. A drip bar is more about craft."

That said, Freeman believes that the Starbucks acquisition of Clover may be a good thing. Using the Clover, Starbucks is going to "educate millions of people and those people may end up going elsewhere."

And what about the fact that this acquisition will be excluding non-Starbucks shops from owning a Clover? Something new will come along, believes Freeman. And a lot of little cafes may start looking at the drip bar as an alternative.

So is the Starbucks acquisition of the Clover Brewing System a good thing for small independent coffee bars? Time will tell, but for the moment I'm going to assume that a rising tide of quality will float all boats.

Locally, you can try coffee brewed from a Clover at Ritual Coffee Roasters and at Coffee Bar.

To read more in the press:

NYT: At Last, a $20,000 Cup of Coffee
Seattle PI: Starbucks will 'fight to the death,' Schultz says
Slate: Could a coffee maker be worth $11,000?
Chow: You can't afford this coffee maker

I'm fascinated with food and wine pairings. But I have to admit, I never really considered food and coffee pairings. I love the flavor of coffee, but I'm not a coffee drinker. Somehow the idea of pairing food with coffee sounds like something your grandmother would do when she eats at a diner. But maybe that's precisely the reason Starbucks is working to bring the two concepts, food and coffee, closer together.

In fact, Starbucks has just launched a collaboration between their master blender, Andrew Linnemann and chef Marcus Samuelsson. They are on tour now, showing off coffee and food pairings. Samuelsson is an interesting choice of partner because he was born in Ethiopia (land of coffee) and yet grew up and learned to cook in Sweden (land of coffeecake?). His influences are far-reaching and his style is very unique often pairing unexpected flavors.

The pairs listed on the Starbucks web site that match coffee blends with a caramelized apple pecan coffee cake or a chocolate cinnamon bread seem somewhat mundane, but the recipes featured in by Samuelsson are a bit more surprising such as Mango Couscous, Beef Stir-Fry and Pineapple Cashew Salad.

Attend a free tasting event with Marcus Samuelsson and Andrew Linnemann

Wednesday, August 29th - - TODAY!
1 - 2:30 pm @ Starbucks
2727 Mariposa St
San Francisco

The event should be eye opening, to say the least!

Note: I know it's late notice but I only heard about this yesterday. If you end up going, please do share your impressions in the comment section!

The work of Arthur Huang and Mary V. Marsh, perfectly calibrated for this age of confessional eating and exhibitionist documentation, examines the minute rituals of food. Currently on exhibit at Mercury Twenty Gallery in Oakland, the two artists explore our culture of consumption, how we ingest ideas, relationships and expectations along with a few basic nutrients and our daily dose of caffeine.

2002 Diet as Periodic Table

What do you get when you combine an MFA from RISD with a degree in biochemistry and molecular cell biology? If you throw in a healthy dose of OCD and lots of wall space, you wouldn't be surprised to find Arthur Huang's elaborate works of dietary classification. Using data-collecting systems of the scientific method, Huang recorded with painstaking detail what he eats for a year. The display of this information in ordered columns and rows, with their evocative colors shading obscure terminology, reveals beautiful patterns. His chart spans an entire wall. You can step back and take in the amazing human endeavor, or you can step close to study his precise data. He provides a helpful key so you can decipher the information in the table. I was delighted to see that Huang had included among his ten categories of food elements a few of my own favorite edibles: Salty Foods, Sweet Foods and Condiments.

His periodic chart is part of an elegantly curated show, "Inscribere," at Chandra Cerrito Contemporary, a gallery within the same complex as Mercury Twenty.

The Coffee Diary

While coffee may have once built empires and fueled revolutions, for most of us, it merely jump starts another workday. Mary V. Marsh bracketed a year of her life and then used the 327 paper coffee cups she purchased to record details of the moment. From mundane routine to memorable events, buying and drinking coffee become interwoven with people, places, movement and repetition. Picking up various cups to read her Sharpie-scratched words, I learned that she ate a pumpkin scone on one day, rode her bike on another and stood in a long line the day when Pete's was down two employees. As I recount this for a food blog, I must admit the experience was both familiar and eerie.

The works of both Huang and Marsh reveal intimate connections within large-scale systems. Even as you wonder about the ways of science or calculate coffee dollars and carbon miles, you can't help but feel connected to the daily lives of two living, breathing, eating individuals.

Mercury Twenty Gallery
25 Grand Ave. (at Broadway)
Oakland, CA 94612

Gallery hours are Friday and Saturday, 11:00 am - 2:00 pm, or by appointment. There will be extended gallery hours on Saturdays, August 4, 11 & 25, 11:00 am - 4:00 pm in conjunction with the Unread Book Project Reading Room. For additional information, please contact mercurytwenty@gmail.com.

My friend Lyle is mildly obsessed with coffee. If it's daylight outside, there is usually a paper take away cup filled with the black, caffeinated liquid within a two-and-a-half foot radius of him. I haven't measured his wingspan. I'm just telling you it's nearly always within his reach. Or nestled in a cup holder inside his car. The other night at work, he announced he was going to The Blue Bottle Coffee Co. the next day and was taking orders. I had no idea what he was talking about, so I asked what the big deal was. He mentioned that they happened to serve the best frigging coffee in the city. Only I am not certain he used that precise word.

The next afternoon, after a little bit of directional confusion for which I blame my own genetics and short attention span, I found my way to tiny Linden Street, the block known unofficially as The Artists Alley. I saw a crowd of about fifteen people not-too-neatly queued up in front of what looked like a garage. Lyle was there, off to the side reading a magazine; the remnants of something brown and foamy making its way gradually to the bottom of a little glass in front of him. "Order a Gibraltar," he said. That's what he had been drinking while waiting for me. I did as I was told, but I wanted to try their coffee, too. The line wasn't terribly long-- I waited about five minutes for my Gibraltar (which is basically a very short latte with just a titch of foam and, I believe, named after the glass in which it is served) and my cup of drip coffee (one size only, thank you). I threw in a few cookies for good measure and snapped a few photos.

The Gibraltar was good. Very good. I carefully sipped at it a couple of times-- creamy, well balanced and rich. I was happy. I thought about swirling it about in the glass as I one might do wine, but the glass is too small and I worried about the likely coffee stains down my shirt and crotch. I headed back to my apartment with Lyle to drink our drip coffee in relative comfort. By relative, I mean in a chair. By chair, I mean a piece of furniture with four legs and perhaps a bit of padding-- Blue Bottle has one plywood bench that I believe may have at one time been a seventh grader's midterm wood shop project. Such is the Blue Bottle's charm. I can't say I can blame them for not encouraging people to lounge-- the demand for their coffee can be fierce (they regularly sell out of their bags of whole beans)-- especially on weekends.

We sipped at the Bella Donovan en route to my apartment. This is, according to Blue Bottle's website, their most popular blend; "the wool sweater of our blends." I could feel the caffeine taking hold of me. I was feeling a little light-headed when I go out of Lyle's car. By the time we got ourselves into seated position--cookies in hand, I had consumed half my coffee. I felt the end of my nose tingle and my cheeks begin to go numb. This is serious coffee. I don't think I had ever gotten myself this caffeinated before. I hadn't intended on drinking two Charles Atlas-strength coffees on top of my accustomed morning cup-and-a-half. I felt nauseated. I blame myself, of course, but I now see the warning sign so clearly hinted at in the blend's name-- drinking this blend is like snacking on digitalis; my heart raced wildly and, had I thought to look in the mirror, I am certain my pupils would have been enormous. I hope it made me look pretty.

In spite of my caffeine overdose, I find myself in agreement with Lyle-- this coffee is frigging good.

If you are a serious coffee drinker and have not been to Blue Bottle Coffee Company, I suggest you give it a go. In addition to the garage/kiosk at 315 Linden Street, you will find them at the Ferry Building Farmer's Market on Tuesdays and Saturdays, and at the Berkeley Farmer's Market on Saturdays, brewing and selling their wares.

For much more information, visit their website. It's an amusing and informative read:

Blue Bottle Coffee Company

More about Blue Bottle on BAB:
Blue Bottle Coffee Redux: One Giant Step for Coffeekind

Coffee Breakthrough