CoffeePorn

Seriously? Another coffee shop in Royal Oak!?

But wait, is there such a thing as too much? Especially when we're talking about the lifeblood of the gods. Espresso is the lifeblood, you know. Of the gods. If you needed to do a blood transfusion with a god, you'd need to have a batch of beans and good grinder in the room to make that happen. Otherwise, it's one anemic god you'll have on your hands.

But let's not digress. A new shop opened today. Well, the shop was there, been there for like seven years, but only now it's got coffee. That's right. Real espresso. Seriously that's what's been missing in this town. Sure the other shops all offer it, but frankly let's just say a little education is in order. Start with freshness. Then the grind. Then the zeal for making it and the pride in the product. Okay, I ain't gonna bore the crap outta you with all that. Just wanted you to know that as of today you can find a good spot to sip on a macchiato. Or a mocha latte. Or just a good pour-over coffee. All fresh. Ground to your order.

This post is the first one I've done in about 3 months (yikes). but this starting a business thing does take a little more time. Frankly, even this post is pretty weak. But the coffee ain't.

Come on in.

Tasi Juice and Coffee Bar at 204 W. 4th Street. 

See you there.

August?? What August?

So around the last couple days of July, I must have gone to sleep for a little nappy time. I wake up and feel pretty rested, but I look over at the alarm clock and it's freaking September!!! Hello! How come no one bothered to wake me up for at least some late breakfast in August-ville???

Oh wait, I just remember.... I actually did a shit load of coffee stuff and other whatnot and whosit during the past month. I think I'm just a lazy s-o-b and thought this blog was writing itself. My bad.

So, I guess over the next few days I gotta put some of that lovely espresso gold in writing here so all 3 three of you readers can get your fill. he he. a pun. Expect to see something about maintenance on Silvia (I heart her), roastings, and of course, the ever-popular poorly poured latte art photos. One of these days I'm gonna hire a real barista to handle my drinks here at home. Anyone...anyone? Oh, and I made a blend. Oooh, that's exciting! Well, don't get your hopes up, but what the heck, it's still a blend. My very first. I'll tell you all about it, little ones.

But first, I need a little nap.

Back in Detroit, and it's more Kona time

You know, I just can't get over how fun this coffee bean is. Today I'm just not feeling all that wordy so perhaps a couple pics will help you see what I'm talking about. I roasted this one about six days ago, right before I left Texas to come home. So it was aging nicely on its cross-country trip and I dug in a few days ago. But here's what I was able to pull out in the past couple days. Folks, these are only pictures, so don't try to lick your screen.

This one here I like mainly because it, well, tasted even better than the gentle little heart that she gave to me. So smooth and rich. Creamy, like dancing butter. Slow dancing butter. I would have her again.

Then of course this little plum below, well the art is not so perfect, but you know what, eat me! If you could have only heard how she poured from the shot glass into the cup, your knees would already have buckled. Such a seductive honey oozing down into her warmed up home. No splattering. No dripping. No trickling. Oozing. Delicately flowing. Slinking. Yes, this coffee slinked into the cup. That's how hot she is.  And yes, the taste of love as she twirled into the foamed milk. Just look at the frikken picture, people!! You can see how smooth the skin is. Just look at it!  You hardly want to drink it.

Damn, I love this bean.

More Austin Coffee

Yesterday I had the opportunity to visit a couple small coffee shops in the North Austin area. These two shops could not have been more different from each other but at the same time there were many similarities too.

Wha?

Okay, I'll explain.  Shop No. 1, called Sorrento's, now around for 4 years, lives in a tiny old photolab building situated in the middle of some parking lot. Remember when people would take pictures with very large obtrusive cameras and then trudge their film (oh, dear god, actual film!!) to one of these places, where you'd have to leave it behind and come back another day to get it back and finally see what crappy pictures you took?  It was slightly remodeled, and by slightly I mean heavily, but remained a drive-up type shop. We figured this out when we decided to park our car nearby the building and walk up to the doorway on that side, then open the door and then attempt to walk right into the place. Attempt. That is until the girl working in there nearly maced us for walking in and scaring the bejeezus out of all the people inside. There's a reason the other cars were driving up to the other side of the building. Okay, okay. We just wanna talk and ask a couple questions, darlin'.  Turns out the owner, Kelly, was there and she was gracious enough, once she recovered from the initial scare, to induldge our questions about the place and how it came to be, etc. Recommends a super-automatic, for example, for this type of setup because of the speed and consistency. Recommends a smaller ice machine since they're not in the business of selling bags of ice and that the extra heat generated by her large machine is enough to warm up Greenland. Recommends checking with the city to determine traffic patterns to pick out the best location for a new shop. But the most important bit of info was when we asked if she would do it again: YES!

Phew, long paragraph. How about a coffee break? 

Now on to Shop No. 2. This one's called Genuine Joe's Coffeehouse. We did not get maced walking into this place. In fact, I don't even think they have a drive-thru window so even if you're in a hurry, you'll still have to park your car. No, this place was much more loungey. Sofas and bistro tables arranged around a few rooms, with a homey feel, if your home was a typical eclectic Austin co-op housing. But hey, we're not judging. It was clean, and there were plenty of peeps working away. Some alone, others were having surreptitious meetings about this or that. The bar itself was manned by the two owners, Dave and Victor, and they were just as forthcoming with details on their baby as Kelly over at the other shop was. In fact, it's an apparent trend I'm finding that the owners of non-corporate shops tend to want to promote this style of set up, that is, building a deeper coffee culture based on personal interaction and higher quality than the "big dogs" could offer. GJ's was also around 4 years old and guess what? Dave and Victor both agreed that they would do this again if they had to start over.

Hmm. What's the moral of the story? Well, who really cares, but I'm just going to say that no matter what the format of the store is, whether it's a quick-n-speedy drive-thru, or a relaxed and quiet lounge setting, the point is that you enjoy making the product. You enjoy the lifestyle. You enjoy the type of interaction. You enjoy being independent.

Good Freaking Morning from Austin, Texas

It's morning. It's Austin. It's getting warm out there already. Summertime. I just dropped off my buddy Brian at his class and I went out in search of a little divey place to do some writing and facebooking, and have a taste of coffee. You know, that stuff that you magically transform from dark brown crunchy to tasty drinky. Well, I'm wandering around the campus area and walk by this little cafe. Well, whaddayou know, it's a coffee shop in a college town. This one's called Caffe Medici. Why merely imply Italian when you can just be Italian? Plus, they sell breakfast tacos. How could that be bad thing? And hey, free wireless internet. Bingo.

Walk in, it's kinda empty-ish, but then again, school's out and it is a bit early for that crowd anyway, like 8am. Hell, it's early for me, too, by a couple hours. Thanks a lot, Brian! I notice right away they've got a couple (yeah, two!) La Marzocco 3-groups. Damn that's a nice start. Bar looks well stocked. So I order a cappuccino. Guy says, "no problem". I cringe a little because I'm just half expecting him to pour me some half gallon drink. This is what normally happens, when I order a cappa and the guy says "no problem". Oh, and I order a potato, egg and cheese taco. I'm hungry at this time of day. Go figure. I pay and he hands me a foil-wrapped taco. Pre-steamed. High quality. I'm in trouble.

We walk over to the first of the two coffee maker thingamajigs, one of these, and he proceeds to pour me out a very nice little double espresso. Maybe I'm not in trouble. I saw honey come out of the spout, not the usual crap that comes out at the places where the guy says "no problem". I'm starting to get hopeful. But still scared that I just paid for something that most college students would mix with a quarter cup of sugar or hazelnut flavoring.

But when I saw him froth the milk, I was done. Worries, goodbye. Anxiety, adios. Then he poured me this, and I almost had to kiss the boy. I'm not usually that easy, but well, if you can do this, you might at least end up on my Christmas card list.

Taste, you ask? Well, let me put it this way. I had planned to write a novel today that would rival War and Peace, or The Hunchback of Notre Dame, or at least a Hallmark card. But instead I realized I needed to write this blog. It was that tasty.

Hello Austin, I love you.

We're Baking In Texas. Literally.

So I may have mentioned my grandma, Oma is how I call my dad's mom. Well, as you all know I'm visiting down Texas way and Oma's staying with my folks a bit, just so happens to be while I'm here too. Cool. She's got all these great stories from the old days. The kind of stories that will probably bore you when you're a real young little fucker that thinks stories from "back in the day" should be banned, but now that I'm starting to see that, hey, this life thing doesn't really last forever so maybe start doing something with it, these stories suddenly become a little more interesting. Wow that was a long sentence. I'm gonna take a little break.

Okay I'm back. So, one day she's telling me how they used to bake coffee when she was a little girl. They'd actually go to the market and buy green beans there and bake them at home, maybe a couple times a week. I'm thinking, really?! But I guess it makes some sense. I mean, people need their coffee and I'd have to imagine that roasteries weren't strewn about the globe back then like they are today like so much sand on a beach. So she's telling me about it, how they'd have to stir it constantly. Watch closely. Keep stirring. So much stirring. More about stirring. And then, the coup de grace, they'd add butter at the end. Yes, that's right. Butter.

So it got me thinking. I've got beans. Green beans. I've got time. We've got the cast iron "wok" and a burner outside. Why not?? Let's do it! So she says, sure no problem. She's all about cooking, this grandmother. Loves to cook. She's getting a little on in age, but still wants to cook whenever she can. And she's got stories! Stories about cooking. Recipes. She's always telling me how to make this or that. How to watch it and taste it. How other people make some things that she still, STILL!, wants to learn how to make. So she's all about the cooking. Let me know if I didn't make that point clear enough.

I break out the wok. The beans, I measure them out. One pound exactly. Costa Rica. The wooden spoon, very important. The burner. Well, Oma said it's important that we use hardwood charcoal in an open fire. I guess a turkey fryer with a gas burner will be good enough today. See here:

So we get started. Did I mention about the stirring? Holy crap there was some stirring involved! First it looks like this:

After some stirring:

More stirring:

The whole time she keeps picking a bean or two out of the pot and tosses it in her mouth, tasting them. "To what point are you going to bake them, Oma?" "Until it cracks just right". Of course. A real cook. I think she also burns cookbooks for added warmth in the winter. Oh, you wanted to see a picture of her at work? Here you are, kiddo:

Finally, we come to an ending point. By this time maybe 25 minutes have passed. Also the first crack has occurred. If you're not sure what that is, well, I'll leave that for another time. Essentially, for us modern folk, it's a standard we use to help determine how far along the beans are in terms of roast depth. But not for Oma. She's practically deaf anyway, so what's it matter. She's going on taste and sight, so eff the sound. Second crack has not happened but she feels that it's time to pull the heat. Hey, no one said quit stirring though. Now it's time for the butter. About a tablespoon, but then again, who's measuring? We're working with an artist, not a scientist.

"What's the butter for, Oma?" I timidly ask. "So it tastes good," with an implied "dumbass". Of course.

A little more stirring (naturally), the heat's gone, the butter's melted and well integrated. And then. voila, we're done. Put the spoon down and massage out your arm a bit.  You have 14 ounces of coffee. Ready to be served.

Thank you Oma. That was awesome!!

Fun Latte Art

This morning I was making a cute little cappuccino for my folks and my grandma (awww) and drew up this beauty.

Ok, it's supposed to be a pretty little heart and it was for my g-ma but I'm gonna leave the actual result to your imagination....

At least I'll just say it was a nice roast from my friend JonR. A sweet Kenya he gave me. Roasted to a medium level, perhaps Full City, and about a week old now. I had some too, not too bad.

Houston, We've Got Coffee

Well, I'm in Texas. Have been for about a week now. Texas is one of those places in the world that almost everyone knows about. You can go to the jungles of Papua New Guinea and wear a "Don't Mess With Texas" t-shirt, and the naked local will say "Go Cowboys". Or you can be having breakfast in bed with a young lady in Singapore and she'll notice your beltbuckle with a giant star on it and say, "ooh, me love the Big Bend". Or something to that effect.

So I'm here, enjoying family, friends. The heat. Okay, not so much the freaking heat, but I can definitely say I am enjoying the coffee. You say, "Gee Phil, why you gotta bring up coffee every frikken time we talk?" I say, "I need blog material, you dumbass, now put that branding iron down and have a taste."

Of course my fave place to have coffee, and I mean this not just for Texas, but in general, is Catalina Coffee in Houston. I've mentioned it before. If you read this blog I wouldn't have to mention that I've mentioned it, of course. Anywho, so I naturally went there as soon as I made it to Houston. Quite nice. They really know what they're doing there. And they're now roasting their own and serving that, too. I got a beauty of a cappuccino, complete with a double tulip; my aunt got a triple heart. I was so happy to see real art, and taste real art, that I of course forgot to take a picture. I'll be back and I promise to try again.

But last Friday I may have found a new place I'd like to frequent. Again, in Houston, so just slightly out of the way for me when I return home to Detroit later this month, but very very damn freaking good nonetheless. I can't remember the name of this place, oh wait, it's my new buddy Jon's home.

The illustrious Jon, who shall be called JonR, which is his coffeegeek name, a site that he nearly owns with all his ponderous insight and weighty commentary, is the apparent owner of half of metro Houston's coffee equipment and somehow has managed to fit it all in his kitchen. Holy Sumatra In A Bag! We had to take breaks in the tour -- coffee breaks [rimshot] -- before seeing the entire display. Between multiple rounds of espresso, cappuccino and vacuum pot brewings, my mind was buzzing more than my taste buds.

But my god, the taste buds were singing Haleluia too!! JonR has come up with a great Brazil blend that just dances on your tongue. I begged him to keep pouring that one, but he just backhanded me and reminded me that there are only a few hours of daylight and his lovely wife would like to spend some time with him as well. Okay, finnnne!

So then once we had a sweet buzz jackhammering in my skull, JonR decided to unveil his primo homemade roaster system. Where the casual observer would see a somewhat aged gas grill in his garage, was actually a near-state-of-the-art hand crafted fully functional drum roaster, replete with rotisserie turner and temperature probe, three gas burners, and a bitchin' cage so well seasoned that future archeologists might determine it to be a religious artifact of high esteem.

He tossed in some more Brazil and proceeded to journal the entire process, down to the second with adjustments to the burners and ears pressed to the lid listening for those little brown babies screaming as their water burst. Quite literally. A few seconds on the rigged up cooling tower and not 15 minutes had passed for a pound of fresh Brazil. Ready for another lucky friend or family member in about three or four days.

JonR, Thank You!!

Sweet Dreams

Yeah it was a long couple days of driving with the kids and the dogs and of course all my coffee gear. But we made it and despite being tired as a muther, I had a nice dinner and a drink with the 'rents and my grandma and then I hit the sack.

Some of you know, but I have sleep apnea. This requires me to use a sort of nose/facemask that pushes air into me as I sleep. Yeah, it sounds like a PITA but believe me, it's 1000 times better than not getting any rest. Long story for another time. The point is I had to unpack my CPAP machine and such out of the bag and set it up as I was climbing into bed. Strap it on. Lie down. Breathe.

Holy sweet mother of Java!! What is that incredible smell?!

It's like heaven was being pumped into me through my nose! Well, I happened to notice that I had thrown in a small ziploc baggie of roasted Kona beans into the same bag where my gear was packed. I guess the aromas of the beans had escaped the plastic zippy and infiltrated, to my delight, the hoses and noseguard before I put it on me.

What a yummy way to fall asleep.

First the warm up pitch with Sumatra, then the HR with Kona

Good grief, today was like when God himself came down from the clouds and had a mixer with Zeus and the boys. But instead of sitting at a nice little bistro table in a cafe in southern France, they decided to take a swim in my coffee cup. Holy Jehosephat!!

First we poured a couple cute little Sumatras. It took a few shots to get that knife edge of goodness to pop, but when it did, zowie baby! Blaine, back me up, my man. Of course by then, we had three shots going. I personally prefer to sip a bit but Blainey just backs 'em up like the dumptruck to a landfill. But hey, I don't judge.

During this time I decide to roast out another batch, my last remaining greens of the Sumatra Mandheling, to the same profile as the one we just tasted. I'm taking that to Texas with me, beotches, and it'll be perfect when I get there!!

Next up, the big swinger. Yep, Kona. I know I've been oozing over this one for the past few posts, but hey, have you ever tried crack? It'll knock you out of your underoos, dawg.

I'm trying not to bias my bald buddy with my own commentary from the last time I sucked it down, so I just pour a shot. Espresso. Okay, pretty good. Until then he'd only had it as "coffee", that is, drip style. Not as espresso yet. Yep, it's got yer florals and such. Good stuff. In my opinion, not so great that I'd pay three times the price for it in espresso form. I noticed this last time too. But then came that milky soft, well, milk. Steamed to perfect creaminess and microfoamage. It just honeyed its way into the cup of espresso and mixed and twirled and danced and made sweet love to it.

Taste it now, girlfriend. Holey smackadoley! What is it that makes this so friggen different with cappas than other beans?!? I have NEVER tasted a sweeter cup o cap than this. Last time the same thing. I thought maybe the gods were screwing with me. The weather must have been just right. The butterfly in China flapped its wings slower. Or faster. But no. This time it happened again! WTF? How could it be that freaking tasty?

No, I think the only reasonable explanation must be that those who live among the clouds and look upon us with humorous benevolence, clearly decided to puff a taste of heaven into these beans. Yeah, that's got to be it.