CoffeePorn

Kona, you sweet little devil

I know I know, I was supposed to update right after the roast. Right after the tasting. Right after everything. And I didn't. Hey, who's writing this blog anyway? Don't answer that.

But, DAMN, that lady from the big island of Hawaii did me a number. Wow. We tried her at two days. Not bad, but clearly she hadn't matured yet. And you know how wrong it is to take 'em too young. I did feel a bit guilty, but i just couldn't wait. Oh the primal anticipation!

So then we break her open again at the typical 4 days. Oh good lordy lord in heaven! I hadn't had that before. Just freaking tropical. Yeah, tropical is probably the word I can best use to describe Kona. Oh, I'm sure there are many more descriptive terms to grade her taste, her mouthfeel, her body, but I think by saying "tropical" it's enough for now. You get what I'm sayin'.

We tried both the espresso version and the cappuccino version. Both were saweet. But I must give the edge to the cappa version. Once that frothy milk mixed in with the coffee shot, and they danced together, they must have released extra bubbles of yumminess and, well, tropical-ness. It's not a word, I know, but screw it. That freaking cappuccino had such an amazing pop of sweetness, like I'd never had before. I don't put sugar into them, either. I was just floored at how awesome it was. So I made me another, just to make sure it wasn't a fluke. Nope. Same amazing kiss.

Kona, darling, you will be mine again. And soon.  

Kona!! You have arrived, baby!

Out on the bike today and what do I see on my porch as I approach the house? A large FedEx package of goodness from the fair island State of Hawaii. Eleven pounds of future deliciousness, darlin'.  This stuff ain't the cheapest in the crowd but generally awarded the beauty contest winner by many voters. Oh sure, there are contenders, but these here beans are American-made, beotch!!

God, I cannot wait to start roasting them up tonight. Update tomorrow...

Dear Silvia, I almost strayed

OMG, you should have seen this sweet thing that was dangled in front of me this week. Yes, it was the ever-coveted La Marzocco Linea. Oh, she's so amazing. What, with her dual boiler and classic lines. Her two groups, not just the single one you have. Her programmable switches. And jeez, those dials. So many dials.

I have to say, she doesn't come cheap, though. Don't get me wrong, you're not a $50 Krups, nossirr, but darlin' you can only dream to be as sophisticated or stylish as that Linea. Yes, you did give me my first real, truly real, espresso shot at home. Yes, you were the one. Oh, and I'll never forget you for that. And of course I still love all the beauties you continue to give me. And will continue to give me, as long as you're up to it. But there she was. A mirage

But not to worry, hon. She probably will never be mine. She's too far away. Has too many other admirers. Yes, she's a bit, eh, older, but sometimes that's what a guy wants, you know. I bit of confidence. A little experience. She's not overly used. I mean, she has been around a bit. More than you. But I have it on good authority that she played it right. Never gave it up too easily. Hardly a scratch on her. Hardly a blemish. She's amazing. I'm sorry if this pains you, but seeing as I won't have her anyway, it pains me too. To have been so close. So achingly close. She was almost mine. If I'd only acted a tad more quickly.

Tuesday Cappuccino

This morning's ugly gloom outside was dashed to heaven as my baby Silvia decided to deliver me another gem of delectable goodness. Again I went with the Costa Rica Santa Elena, roasted 5/19, so now a week old. Aroma still tempting me from going for a run instead. She blonded a tiiiny bit early, as you can see in the less than dark creaminess below, but still managed to retained her smooth silkiness, avoiding that sharp bitterness. She was a little pale, that's all. I took good care of her, though. I whipped up a nice creamy froth and carefully decorated her up with it. The milk poured easily and before I knew it, it took a sweet little shape, sort of like a budding rose, letting off a tantalizing whisp of come hither scent.

After all that display, she went down quite well. With a heaving "ahhh", now the day can begin.

Houston Coffee

Getting some feedback from coffeegeekers that THE place to get coffee in Houston is Catalina (http://catalinacoffeeshop.com/). Mmmm, yeah, it was pretty damn good the couple times I went there last year while visiting town. Makes me dream of it again. They will always have a special place in my coffee heart - that was the first time I'd gotten latte arted by a real pro. They knew what they were doing alright. Had me at hello kind of thing. Sweet little place, cozy but not all neo-grunge like so many "hip" places try to be.

The first time I was there they had this sweet ass machine there. Looked like to belonged in an art museum. Classic Italian design. Shiny chrome and lots of it. Toss in some sewn leather and you could pick up two or three backseat bitches in no time. The owner, Max, told me about how he got started. And how it was important to bring top-notch espresso to Houston. Then he slid over a freakin beautiful machiatto that tasted about as good as 4 ounces of creamy coffee could taste. Go there. He'll hook you up.

Anyway, I started this search for my friend June, who's on the road to becoming a better coffee drinker. Used to do the mermaid, and pay her hard-earned $$ for it, but is beginning to expand her tastes and wants to know where to get really fresh and good beans. Catalina is one of those places. So is Hopsons, but I think that's just an online store in the area. Toss 'em some love.

My Pumpkin

Some of you know that I have been calling my daughter, Dominique, my Pumpkin. It's just one of those cute names that you have no idea how it got started but it's just so damn cute and she's loved it from day one. Well, one day here she was making me lose my mind with her prepubescent attitude (she's only 6), doing her usual glare to go along with it, and I just release this goddawful gripe, well, gripe is definitely a euphemism, right at her, and she just immediately cuts short her devil-like behavior, turns to look right at me and slowly walks up to me. and says, "but Daaaad, I'm your pumpkin". I could have bought her a car right there on the spot.

I'm so doomed.

That kind of day

Yesterday morning I was entertaining a visitor. Morning coffee, people, so don't get excited. Well, it was coffee, so get a little excited. Plus, she was hot. The visitor, not the coffee. She was sitting there patiently looking at me. Waiting. I'm guessing for me to get my butt in gear on the cappuccino I had promised her. That's why she came over, after all. The machine was on already but I was giving it some time to warm up.

That's how Silvia works, you know (the machine, not the visitor). You gotta start her off easy, and let her warm up slowly. Get all her parts to a nice temperature, you know. You can't rush her. Trust me, it's better that way. She always knows better. So I give her time. I work her buttons. Her knobs. She's getting there. She'll get there.

So, while I'm working Silvia, my visitor is sitting patiently, but also somewhat pressed for time. She's got places to be and people to see. So I'm chatting her up a bit. I'm talking with my hands. I'm making motions. I grab the portafilter. I wave it around in the throws of my discussion. She looks at me.

I finally turn to my baby. She's good and warm now. She's ready. I lay out the sequence. Warm up the cups. prep the towels. Final check on the temp. Flip on the grinder and start to load the PF with fresh grinds. I noticed before that this is probably the last of this roast. I don't think I'll get more than one double shot out of what remains in the hopper. And I further realize that I don't have any other beans. Anywhere in the house. Other than the green beans that still need to be roasted. This is it. One shot. 

I let the newly ground beans filter one click clack at a time into the PF below the doser. The mound is growing. It's plenty now. So I do my usual leveling, massaging that great big mound down. Sweep out the extra and that falls below. Just below. As if forgotten. I grasp my tamper. Trusty tamper. Always there when I need it. He's ready to do his job. I have him firmly in my right hand while the PF is laid gently against the edge of the coffee stand. Waiting for the pressure. The tamper does his work. Crushes those fresh grounds deeply, compactly, but still gently, into the bottom of the naked portafilter. It's done. the grinds are in place. Now all that remains is to slide the PF into Silvia. Not too hard. Not to quick. Just ease it in. You don't want to agitate. Be deft. Smooth.

I have this little routine that I flip the PF quickly. It's mostly for dramatic effect, but it also gets rid of any loose grinds that tend to cling to the edge of the filter itself. But let's be honest, it's to show off. I'm obviously good with my hands. 

With full audience, with two sexy eyes staring at me, at my movements, longing to see something spectacular, I did my usual flip. I'm eyeing her to see if she's gonna be impressed. She's looking. She's expecting.

It did not go well. Instead of an elegant twist, instead of an impressive flip, instead of an eye-popping somersault, the entire PF came flying out of my hand, did multiple spins through the air... and landed flatly on the floor. An explosion of grinds everywhere. Like a cracked egg on the tile. like a watermelon in galagher's finale. like a meteoric crater on the lunar face.

Yeah. fuck me.

Those were the last beans, too. Coffee today is closed. As quickly as the release of disappointment escapes the beautiful visitor's mouth, she evaporates out the door along with my ego.

What a day.

Medium Roast, at the Bikini Bar

I never realized you could get a sweet little medium roast at a bikini bar.

What's a bikini bar, you ask? Hmm, well, imagine a place where the patrons can relax in an easy chair or play some pool, while being patiently, and many times lovingly attended to by anywhere from one to several highly attractive and motivated female individuals. Did I mention they were motivated? As in $20 a song motivated? Yeah, that's a bikini bar. I think sometimes they also actually wear the bikinis.

Well, you will find almost anything there. But on this night we found a very lovely little medium roast. Body. Aroma. Mouthfeel. It was all there. Yum.

I'm a jerk

This morning I happened to notice a few birds cheerily chirping away at my window. The blinds were down, but I still caught a little glimpse of one birdie actually sitting on my window sill on the outside. I stopped to look. And I realized that these cute little buggers were taking up the space I normally reserve for my window AC unit. The little squatters had already begun piling twigs and other nesty materials, stuffing them into the corners and all along the sash. The storm window was already open and I had removed the screen, so they had all kinds of acreage to make themselves a nice cozy home. 

Well, to heck with that idea. I need my AC. At least I will in a couple months, if not weeks. 

So I tapped the window to shoo them off, opened it up, gathered up their belongings and gently sprinkled it all into the breeze and watched it drift away from the second floor window. 

I'm a jerk? Well, I'm no Cinderella, but I coulda done this next month when their eggs were in there and I chose to do it now, so you decide. 

Tuesday Cappuccino

This morning I was able to crack open a first shot at my latest roast, the El Salvador Finca. I roasted this baby on the last day of April and it's been patiently waiting for sweet little Silvia to discover its yummy goodness. Although the original package suggested roasting to City+ (lighter side), I lowered my pants to that idea and opted for disturbing carelessness at Full City. Of course, you will know that it means it's just a tinge darker. I'm an animal. 

Essentially it just means this

 

Not this

Okay, I cheated a bit because I didn't have the City+ beans. They're really the same beans and I shopped 'em up a bit. Sue me. You get the picture. I got permission from her parents, so it's cool.  

The point is, I got to dump these little darlin' nuggets of caffeinated deliciousness into the grinder this morning, spin 'em around a bit until nice and grainey and then snap them into their final juice extraction station, er, the grouphead, for you techno-geeks. 

Here's what came out. I've got shivers. I love Silvia.

Then, of course, it was time to warm my baby up nice so she would give me that delicious microfroth that she knows I love. I give her a second, though, while I clean her up a bit on the outside and brush out a few areas. Just a little housekeeping. Not long after, I'm a-steaming and a-frothing. And look how she rewards me. Mmm-mmm. 

Looks like I got a little moon in there, too. Beauty. Good going down, too. You know it.

Yep, not a bad way to start a Cappuccino Tuesday.