I was too busy for blogging these many weeks, but I was drinking coffee, and so my record here will have a gap. There was a roast from Verve that was quite tasty but is no longer available, and I made it through a couple of rough weeks with the delicious Peet’s Holiday Blend, which my wife carried back from Los Angeles.

She was spending some time there with her mother, who was ill but recovering, Then Nancy died unexpectedly from a stroke just before Thanksgiving. With that and all the other troubles this year, 2009 will not go down in our memory as a good year.

On the positive side, I returned to a more regular practice of zazen, sitting meditation, which has a calming effect though I do not appear to have gotten any closer to being a bodhisattva. In this age of sleep deprivation, a secret to staying awake on the cushion is strong coffee. Like this one.

Coffee: Helsar de Zarcero, West Valley, Llano Bonito de Naranjo Micro-region, Costa Rica.

Roasted: Dec. 11 by Café Grumpy in Brooklyn.

Purchased Dec. 12 at Grumpy’s Chelsea location at 224 W. 20th St., between Seventh and Eighth Avenues.

Description “Medium, creamy body. Fresh blackberry aroma & mellow acidity. Finishing with honeycomb sweetness.”

In the Cup As I mentioned earlier this fall, Grumpy has started roasting its own beans, a positive development. (The Chelsea shop is also offering classes, something a few of its competitors have been doing for a while).

This coffee is fresh, and tasty, and pretty much matches the creamy description on the bag, reprinted above. It’s an excellent coffee, though lacking a certain something that keeps it off my “wow” list. I’ve tried it as a regular coffee and an espresso, brewing at home. Yesterday I filled a thermos full of nearly the last of it, and took it to my daughter’s gymnastics class. It was deeply satisfying to pour a full mug and watch the kids. I am a little surprised to be running out already. Either I’m drinking more coffee than usual, or these bags are lighter than I realized. Luckily I also bought a bag of the Finca El Carmen from El Salvador, another variety the chain is roasting these days. I may not get around to blogging that one separately, but the bag promises nutty undertones, a sweet citrus aroma and “effervescent sweetness with dark chocolate finish.”

According to Grumpy’s informative site, the Helsar de Zarcero is 100 percent Caturra, aquapulped and sun-dried. The coffee comes from a “micromill” started by three families (now 10 are involved) in Costa Rica “with the goal of adding value and providing traceability to the high quality coffee grown on their land.” The farm uses sustainable agriculture practices, including the use of organic fertlizers that are “fermented on-site by mixing coffee cherry pulp and molasses, along with mined zinc, boron, and other minerals. Micro-organisms are cultured from soil collected on nearby mountains and added to the natural fertilizer in order to provide disease protection to the coffee plants.”

I bet it’s warm there right now.

Here in New York City, the snow is still fresh and white, after the snowpocalypse rolled through on Saturday. I’m at home sipping the last of this coffee, while my wife works quietly elsewhere in the apartment and our daughter is off sledding in Central Park with friends. I hope to get back to reading “Buddha’s Brain,” by Rick Hanson, or “Chronic City,” by Jonathan Lethem, the two books I’ve sworn to finish before year’s end. There’s a hush over the city, except for the taxi whistles of a hotel doorman below, and a hush is over the city, and I’m pleased to steal this quiet moment to fire up the blog. I don’t really know who reads this, apart from a few Twitter followers and friends, but let’s hope together for a better 2010.

Interesting things seem to be happening at one of my favorite New York coffee haunts, Café Grumpy. For one thing, the shop’s official blog is looking flashier and busier. And Grumpy — which turned me on to many of the best roasters in the country (Intelligentsia, Verve, Barismo, and Ritual) — is now roasting selected coffees of its own at its Brooklyn location.

I missed the Kenyan roast, but there still seemed to be an ample supply of this Finca Chichupac selection from Guatemala as well as a Finca Carmen from Panama El Salvador at the locally owned chain’s Chelsea shop.

I’m happy to see all the local culinary coffee purveyors step up their games lately. Perhaps the arrival of Stumptown has something to do with that. Now if only a few more of them creep uptown into the 30s, 40s and 50s, a section of Manhattan that remains a Starbucks-dominated wasteland.

Name: Finca Chichupac

Origin: Rabinal, Baja Verapaz, Guatemala

Roasted Nov. 3 by Café Grumpy in Brooklyn.

Purchased Nov. 9 at Grumpy’s Chelsea location at 224 W. 20th St., between Seventh and Eighth Avenues.

Description “Candy apple aroma leads to a full-bodied cup. Granny smith apple brightness rounded out by caramelized brown sugar sweetness.”

In the cup It stands to reason that a shop that has proven to be such a good judge of others’ coffees would roast a fine one of its own. My only gripe is the lack of other documentation on the Grumpy site, apart from the short and sweet, “Autumn we love you.” Indeed. But through the power of the Internet, I did find this brief interview on YouTube with Julián Alquejay of Finca Chichupac at last year’s Cup of Excellence. The plantation is owned by 13 families in a region with a horrific history of government-directed mass murder and genocide of the Mayan population in the 1980s. Here is an article on the continuing legacy of that time and the civil war that ended in 1996.

Right now Grumpy is offering two of its own roasts, this Guatemalan and a second from Finca Carmen in Panama (presumably from the same farm as this Stumptown selection). I decided to go with Guatemala, and I’m glad I did.

I definitely caught the candy apple aroma, especially when drinking this as a regular coffee. It also makes a great espresso, and I thought I detected a bit of nut, not mentioned in the official tasting description above. The sweet finish definitely takes the edge off the fruity brightness. It’s a great cup of joe.

That does not leave me any less conflicted, sampling these nuanced flavors, made from beans grown in an impoverished nation near former killing fields, as I sit in my comfortable apartment in the middle of the richest city in North America, far from the .bullets and butchers of men. Such thoughts certainly puts one’s own petty troubles in perspective, at least.

I spent the week in New York City, organizing my wandering around coffee shops:  Cafe Grumpy Chelsea, where they played L.A.’s late Elliott Smith and one barista bore the grumpy face logo on his chest, inked to show in the “v” of his t-shirt; Cafe Grumpy Greenpoint, where the hipsters emerged from nowhere amidst Polish butchers and bakers; 9^th Street Espresso, where one barista won my heart with a seemingly homemade pumpkin woolly cap (orange with black triangle eyes and nose); and Gimme! Coffee Mott St., where my research failed and they served coffee out of thermoses.  I was sloppy with the subway trains but gave more directions than I received.

I’d spent the previous weekend in Washington D.C. (technically Bethesda) for a friend’s wedding.  She met her husband at another wedding we attended five years ago.  (We had all gone to graduate school together but somehow the couple never met.  Asked why, the groom replied, “She was always asleep by the time I got to the party!”)  Our mutual friend, at whose wedding they met, had vacillated between seating him next to his future wife and seating him next to me.  It worked out well; they are married and I was seated next to someone who rose instantly to the top of my list of favorite out-of-town boys—a scientist, sculptor, DIY pro, and VW van owner, need I say more.  That night, he and I kissed on the steps leading down from E. 40-Something St. to the U.N., but we are not married.

I am confident that I would find love if I rode the L train long enough.  Once, on a lark, I posted a Craigslist personal ad with the subject heading, “F Train Girl for L Train Boy.”  Within an hour, I received notice that it had been flagged and removed as prohibited content.  I was confused for a moment then celebrated my (unintentional) dirty visual humor.  Or my ad was flagged for no reason at all, perhaps by a woman who feared it would capture the hearts of all of L.A.’s L train boys.  I re-posted (and re-titled?), and captured perhaps two dozen “L” for Loonies.

I saw my current favorite out-of-town boy in New York.  He is an F Train Boy.  I believe that a book of astrological subway signs would place higher odds of success on a F train couple than a F train/L train blend.  L trains like only other L trains, I suspect.  My F Train and I have been two years in the making and probably have two more to go, but I am confident that he is worth the effort even though I will do all of the work.  I dig him!  And that is notwithstanding his acquisition of a Subaru Outback.  I dated an Outback owner (with “Asperger’s,” if you read the last post) and concluded, ex post, that his Outback–and Tevas!(!!))–should have tipped me off to our pending doom.  No one riding the L train drives an Outback.  But then I shouldn’t be dating anyone who rides the L train.

My first day back in L.A. I read that Ellen Page, who starred in Juno, is developing an HBO sitcom about two girls who move from Williamsburg to Silver Lake.  It is poorly titled “Stitch N’ Bitch.”  I laughed because, of course, I am considering a move back to New York, i.e. Six Months Before Silver Lake.  According to my mom, I threaten to move back to New York every time I visit.  Maybe this time I will.

It is a little known fact that coffee improves your objectivity as a journalist. O.K., I’m kidding.

I don’t believe in “objectivity” and usually avoid the word. It sounds like an impossible God-like standard. Most people who use that term are setting up a strawman. I prefer terms like balance, neutrality, fairness. And conventional newspaper journalism can certainly reach conclusions, so long as they are supported by evidence, and qualified.

This just happens to be a topic on my mind and in my Twitter stream. The fairness/objectivity debate is in the air.

I work for a news organization that promises fairness and ethics. Like Buddhist enlightenment and perfection in general, they may not be attainable. The value to the reader comes from aiming for the worthy goal, without fear or favor, bias or prejudice. Even the best newspapers print corrections every day, but they still set accuracy as the standard. We don’t give up because perfect accuracy is unattainable.

A journalist who expresses political opinions risks abandoning the habit of keeping an open mind, risks losing the audience and access to sources that might give a more well-rounded picture of the debate.

There’s a risk that a decided mind is a closed one that overlooks facts and lacks empathy for all sides in a contested debate. Reserving judgment is a sound habit for a political journalist, and others who cover controversial topics.

For these reasons, I don’t share my political opinions, when I have them. Most traditional journalists are the same. The work should speak for itself. A great reporter should be able to cover an atheists’ convention or a Christian revival without drawing complaints of bias from any quarter and without revealing any beliefs about God. Who cares about one person’s opinion, really? Opinions are plentiful and easy to come by. Reporting is hard work. It is a higher calling than argument and persuasion.

But we’re here to talk about coffee. I have opinions about it. No contradiction there. I don’t have a problem passing judgment on coffee, the quality of books and writing, TV shows, the usefulness of gadgets and other topics. For one thing, my day job does not involve reporting about or critiquing these things. They also fall in the realm of inconsequential opinions, right up there with “nice weather” and “you look great.” So let’s return to my coffee quest.

Name Blue Batak

Origin Mandheling, Sumatra

Roasted Sept. 1 by Verve Coffee Roasters of Santa Cruz.

Purchased Sept. 4 at Café Grumpy, 224 W. 20th St., Manhattan, between Seventh and Eighth Avenues.

Description Chocolate and caramel biscuit tones, earthy graham-cracker graininess, citrus, dried pineapple and plum, tree bark, cinnamon stick, etc. (see below).

In the Cup The Verve Web site, alas, still seems to be a work in progress. All I know about Sumatra and Blue Batak are from this entry at Sweet Maria’s:

We offer the top grade, specially-prepared Lintong coffees as Blue Batak in honor of the Toba Batak people. Blue Batak is a near-zero defect preparation, without the usual split beans, broken pieces and crud found in standard Sumatras. It is carefully density sorted and triple-hand-sorted. The dry fragrance has chocolate and caramel biscuit tones, but with a slight earthy and graham cracker graininess. Surprising fruits come forward in the wet aroma, even a momentary whiff of citrus, pineapple, dried plum, fig. It’s got great rustic sweetness, aromatic tree bark, cinnamon stick, black tea, and mulling spice in the finish. The body is a bit lighter than the Onan Ganjang micro-lot we have as a sister lot, even though they come from areas that are very close to each other. It also has less of the herbal notes found in other Lintong coffees, which I think makes it a better choice for use in espresso.

So — no crud — got that? That’s quite a laundry list of flavors. I can’t speak to the tree bark, but there was a finish of black tea and certainly a sweetness. I liked this coffee quite a bit, as I often do when there’s a hint of chocolate and caramel. I mostly drank it as an espresso. No crud. (Here’s some more information about the Dutch term Mandehling)

Good coffee. Nice weather. You look great.

I found myself on a fool’s errand trying to research this coffee, suggesting that it has already sold out. And, as so often happens, I got distracted wandering the Internet. The seller, Ritual Roasters has a great video tutorial about espresso, using a French press, the Clover and other topics. I was hooked after the first one, in which the barista explains the wide variety in espresso flavors, even with the same beans, and he compares the intensity of espresso to the slap in the face of whiskey. I never thought I’d have this much fun watching videos of coffee geeks do their thing.

Name Finca La Folie

Origin 1600 meters above sea level, Guatemala

Roasted Sept. 1 by Ritual Coffee Roasters of San Francisco.

Purchased Sept. 4 at Café Grumpy, 224 W. 20th St., Manhattan, between Seventh and Eighth Avenues.

Description “Cocoa, dried apricots, molasses.”

In the Cup I regret that this review is not as timely as it could have been. This was one of three types of beans I bought on that trip to Grumpy earlier this month, including the Flor Azul from Intelligentsia and a selection from Verve that remains unopened (I’ll be turning to that in the coming week). I was distracted by this side trip to Stumptown’s new Manhattan store and finished the Costa Rican beans I bought there before returning to this excellent Guatemalan selection.

As I mentioned, there is no information about this selection at the Ritual site, which is selling a different coffee from Guatemala, Finca La Merced. I’m a big fan of the roaster’s monthly Sweet Tooth series, but I don’t think this was a part of it. The Finca La Folie bag says the producer is Hermanas Penny (variety is bourbon). So if anyone has a link, add it in the comments.

The flavor is as advertised. In espresso, the apricot is stronger than in a regular cup, but the cocoa and molasses are the strongest flavors, and make for a delicious coffee. I have enough beans left for about four more cups of espresso, and I look forward to a pleasant weekend. I hope you enjoy yours, too.

Theirs is not a story of a single place, at a single time, doing a single monumental thing. However the story starts at Octane Coffee in Atlanta, on a Friday night this past April, in the middle of a competition where some of the most accomplished baristas in the world were throwing down. Like the frenzied college basketball tournament held just weeks prior, this coffee competition was set up in a familiar brackets style elimination. The object of the game however was a little bit different, this was a latte art competition.

Amidst the cacophony of conversation from the gradually increasing crowd there were nearly a dozen people running between the crowd and behind the counter setting up video equipment, calling out drink orders, pulling espresso shots, ringing up orders for beer. Of those rushing around to keep the mob at bay I could see two in particular, hustling just as much as everyone else, they were Tony and Diane Riffle, husband and wife, owners of Octane, this is their story.

Octane is at the leading edge in Atlanta when it comes to quality coffee, but when it first began they were far from holding that title.

What I have found unique to the story of Octane is that in many ways it is the story of the recent radical developments within coffee on a national scale. Perhaps ten years ago quality coffee was just starting to gain momentum in the US. These days large companies are following this trend. Starbucks is pushing aggressive ads touting “Quality” and new packaging on their whole bean coffee feature more specificity of growing region, varietals, and elevation. “The best cup of brewed coffee I have ever tasted.” Howard Schultz founder and CEO of Starbucks was recently quoted, talking about the coffee he tasted from Café Grumpy in New York City, a place focused on quality coffee as is Octane. Octane is at the leading edge in Atlanta when it comes to quality coffee, but when it first began they were far from holding that title.

Every quality focused individual, be it with food, wine, or coffee, must start somewhere in their journey. For Diane and  Tony it was at a Starbucks and a Caribou Coffee, respectively, where they worked for a short period of time before they ventured out to start their own coffee shop.

In 2003 they began the process of opening up Octane. In May they signed a lease, August began construction, finally at the end of the year in December of 2003 they opened their doors on Marietta Street in West Midtown near Georgia Tech. They made eighty-three dollars that first day. It was not bad considering the lack of foot traffic in the area. They choose this location with the expectation that the business in the neighborhood would eventually pick up, and it has.

I asked [Diane] how she ended up in Atlanta, “Threw a dart at a map.” she joked.

In the past few years new housing developments have cropped up on either side of Marietta, little shops and restaurants, a new brewery. Not to mention the King Plow Art Center had already been just down the road before they moved in. When they first started they had a large menu multiple size options, and much to learn. Things were slow and steady when Tony and Diane first opened, today they are one of the busier independently owned coffee shops in town.

I sat down at the bar in Octane on a quiet Tuesday afternoon Diane was there and Tony was splitting his time between my questions and duties behind the counter. The place was not as loud as the night of the throw down and much brighter with sunlight streaming in through the windows. I began the interview with questions of origins. Charlotte, North Carolina,  is where Diane says she grew up. I asked her how she ended up in Atlanta, “Threw a dart at a map.” she joked.

This was the early nineteen-nineties Tony was a young man, driving a sweet ride, wearing acid washed jeans, studying marketing and psychology

Tony is from West Virginia, a state full of beautiful sleepy mountain towns. In his early twenties he was looking toward bigger things (slightly bigger) so he made his move out of West Virginia to Charlotte, North Carolina to go to school. This was the early nineteen-nineties Tony was a young man, driving a sweet ride, wearing acid washed jeans, studying marketing and psychology, and working at an Alamo car rental. It was there at the car rental company that Diane first met Tony where she worked with him in 1995. It was not until a few years later in 1998 when Tony and Diane would have their first date at a coffeehouse in Charlotte.

In 1998 Tony moved to Portland, Oregon where he was working for another rental company. “I didn’t like Portland at first”, he told me, “It rained ninety-four days in a row, very dreary.” In may of 1999 Diane visited Portland and loved it because of how friendly the people were. She moved out there in September that year. Because of Tony? I inquired, both Tony and Diane responded with various forms of no. “We weren’t really dating at that point,” they explained. Six months after Diane had moved to Portland Tony relocated once again. He left Portland and moved to San Diego, Six months after that Diane also moved to San Diego. It grew into a relationship, “We didn’t rush into anything.” Diane says. Like two twitterpated birds they finally ended their cross country courting when in 2001 they both moved to Atlanta, together. It was here that they would start their business. They wanted a chance to create something new and they wanted to have fun.

As long as we are having fun, we’ll keep on doing this. [Tony Riffle]

A few weeks after my interview with Tony and Diane I found myself back at Octane. It was late afternoon, where there should have been fading sunlight it was instead very dark inside of the space, blacked out by paper on all of the windows. In a little while Tony would step into Octane and back into time. This was his surprise fortieth birthday party in full eighties glory. Invitees, friends, family, the whole Octane staff, were urged to wear their coolest retro gear and to bring photos. There was one of Tony in a baggy blue sweatshirt and hammer pants, another with short shorts and a neon colored sleeveless undershirt. “As long as we are having fun, we’ll keep on doing this,” is what Tony told me about the future of Octane during our previous interview. He may have been slightly embarrassed with this bash but it definitely fit his own prerequisite.

The relationships that Tony and Diane have built with their employees, their customers, their mentors and peers in coffee has obviously been a driving force in their success. Early on they found people in the industry who were more than willing to help them out. Counter Culture Roasters has been there the whole way to offer great coffee, excellent support and training. The community of passionate coffee people around the country, many of whom they met during the Specialty Coffee Associations 2004 industry conference in Atlanta, were able to offer invaluable advise and help.

they do not seek congratulation for where they have come rather they consistently plod along continuing to make what they have created better and better.

This past April 2009 was the return of the Specialty Coffee Association’s conference to Atlanta. Diane says they feel like they have come a long way since that first conference in 2004 and they were able to redeem themselves this time around being more stable and confident in their craft. The excitement and camaraderie seen at the latte art throw down that they hosted during the conference was testament to the amazing community that has been grown around this place.

The evening of the latte art throw down was anything but a final climax because there is so much more left for Octane. There is a new Octane location opening up, much more for them to learn about the growing  and roasting side of coffee. “We have just scratched the surface” Tony said, talking about their past trip to visit a coffee farm in Nicaragua.

Throughout the interview with Tony and Diane I was amazed by the complete humility about what they have accomplished. It was encouraging to see that they do not seek congratulation for where they have come rather they consistently plod along continuing to make what they have created better and better. Speaking about the lessons he has learned Tony says, “It is okay to change, make mistakes, just as long as you work hard to put it together.” So what else can we expect from Octane in the future, I asked the two. Diane quipped, “We just want to spread the love!” (a)

This direct-trade variety from Nicaragua was one of the earliest culinary coffees I wrote about on this blog, back in November 2008, when I first started to systematically evaluate the beans I was trying.

Back then, I thought I knew a fair amount about coffee, but I really didn’t know anything. My knowledge was limited to some basic presumptions I had about the geographic origins of various coffees. I didn’t know much about individual growers or roasters. That level of detail was not readily available on the Web or on packaging until this third-wave era of coffee geekery with its focus on elevations, how beans are grown, dried and roasted, and the precise temperature settings on super-expensive coffee-making equipment.

It used to be the specifics of coffee bean origins were known only to buyers, tasters and really obsessed fans. Maybe I’m turning into one of the latter, but I still have a lot to learn about the topic. I doubt I’ll ever be an expert. I don’t have the palate, or the patience, or the equipment. But when I saw that the Flor Azul was in season again, I was curious if my impressions of it had changed.

Name Flor Azul

Origin Las Brumas Cooperative in the Jinotega, Matagalapa region of Nicaragua.

Roasted Aug. 25 by Intelligentsia.

Purchased Sept. 4 at Café Grumpy, 224 W. 20th St., Manhattan, between Seventh and Eighth Avenues.

Description Direct trade. Caturra, Catui grown at 1200-1550 meters. From the Web: “Flor Azul lays bare a flawless cup; clean and composed. Notes of melon fruit and apples express themselves affably in the forefront, hinting slightly toward citrus. The acidity plays a supporting role—adding lift to the mouthfeel as Swiss chocolate comes through in the finish.”

In the cup The first time around, I think I mostly drank this as a regular coffee, drowned in soy milk, having found it too weird in general, and certainly too strong as espresso, my preferred way to take coffee. We were also having some water problems in our building last fall, and I had a cold. So many excuses. This time around, I tried it again as an espresso and as a regular cup of coffee.

It is certainly a challenging taste, lighter-bodied than I like and coming on strong first with flavors I guess are the melon and apple, but I’ve never been good at identifying those notes in a coffee. These seem to be notes that a lot of pro tasters value, but I still find it a bit weird in coffee. The reported chocolate finish was very slight to my taste.

So, this remains a complicated coffee for me, and while I recognize it as something good, and unusual, it’s not something I can bring myself to drink every day. It’s more of an interesting change of pace, but not something I will go out of my way to find again.

(Luckily, I have some other tasty selections I’m trying, roasted by Ritual and Verve, that I bought at Grumpy on the same day, and the excellent Montes de Oro from Stumptown.)

So, this was not an aha coffee. But that’s OK. When you get down to the drinking, coffee is still a matter of personal taste. I’m learning that you can recognize something as good, of high quality, without loving it. I know there are a lot of people who enjoy Flor Azul, judging by some of the sell-side raves online, and it can be a way to jolt people with a new idea of what coffee can be, but this is not a selection I would want to drink with any regularity.

People I know who have spent time in the Portland area have raved about Stumptown Coffee for years. They roast the beans right in the store! Nothing on the East Coast compares! So after the second-day-of-school parents’ breakfast on Friday, my wife and I tagged along through the rain when another parent suggested we walk over to the new Stumptown outlet in the Ace Hotel in an area that some people are trying to call SoMa (for “South of Macy’s”) in the high 20s off Broadway.

The shop was nicely appointed, with a classic feel, more upscale than your average grungy coffee shop. The baristas wore neckties and jaunty hipster hats (which were mocked by some on Twitter when I posted a quick slideshow on Posterous).

The service was great. This is not one of those places where people linger over laptops. There are no chairs, which keeps people from lingering too long. Diner’s Journal declares the shop’s style to be distinctly New York.

My wife ordered a soy decaf latte, which she declared to be just fine. She’s not a big coffee fan.

I had a house espresso, which was tasty and as good as shots pulled at Cafe Grumpy and Ninth Street Espresso, my other favorite Manhattan coffee haunts. Was it better? No, sorry, Stumptown fans. Something else was missing: Unlike in Portland, the beans are not roasted on the premises. Stumptown imports the beans and roasts them locally in Red Hook, Brooklyn.

I ended up spending my last dollar on this bag of beans from Costa Rica, because Stumptown wasn’t taking credit cards. Dudes, nobody carries money in New York anymore.

Name Montes de Oro

Origin: San Pablo de Tarrazu, Costa Rica

Roasted: Sept. 6 by Stumptown Coffee.

Purchased: Sept. 11 at Stumptown in the Ace Hotel at 18 West 29th Street and Broadway, Manhattan.

Description From the excellent, detailed Stumptown Web site (includes video): “Rainier cherry and clementine orange flavors meld harmoniously with sweet notes of honey, caramel and milk chocolate.”

In the cup There was no real description on the bag, so I went with my gut, having had good experiences with Costa Rican coffees (tthough not always). I definitely got lucky. First of all, if you’ve read my past entries, you’ll know I tend to have a sweet tooth when it comes to coffee.

This coffee is delicious and left me feeling warm on this chilly, damp Saturday morning before I took my daughter to her gymnastics class, where I’m taking advantage of the free WiFi at Chelsea Piers upstairs to write this post during the class. I have a great view of my kid walking backward on the balance beam. I’m also playing Calexico on the iPhone because the chattering parents around me are making me a little nuts. My multitasking life.

Stumptown reports: “The producers behind Montes de Oro, Emilio and Laura Gamboa, cultivate their coffee in San Pablo de Tarrazu. Emilio personally oversees the processing each and every night of the harvest. He ensures strictly ripe cherry and fully washes it with INGESEC technology. The coffee is gently dried on African beds, which provides time for sugar development.” Oh, just go watch the video.

Other reviewers of this coffee, including the 2008 vintage, have described it as fruitier — pineapple, thistle and kiwi? Maybe a little clementine orange in there? I didn’t pick up on any of that. Maybe those flavors come out in a regular coffee. I made this as espresso in the Jura and was grooving on the caramel, honey and chocolate. Sweet, but not too sweet.

I highly recommend this one, and I guess I’ll have to leave some extra time now and then for another side trip to Stumptown to try some of the others. They had a whole assortment.

I write this during a long Labor Day weekend, as we’re trying to grab the last few strands of summer: A few last bike rides, wrapping up some reading, paying a visit to the Spa Castle in Queens, and more. This has not been the greatest couple of months. The economy is still in turmoil, of course, and there’s a lot of fear and uncertainty in the news business. At home, we have been coping with some illnesses in my wife’s extended family.

So it has not always been easy to focus on coffee, though my blog quest can be a welcome distraction. This coffee in particular came and went before I had a chance to fully appreciate it. I bought it at the same time as the Koke from Barismo and Verve’s El Balamo-Quetzaltepec from El Salvador.

Name Kenya Kirimara

Origin: Nyeri, Kenya

Roasted: Aug. 10 by Novo Coffee in Denver.

Purchased: Aug. 16 at Café Grumpy, 224 W. 20th St., Manhattan, between Seventh and Eighth Avenues.

Description From the bag: “Full body, hints of citrus, toasted nut, slight black currant.”

In the cup After a long sojourn with the coffees of Latin America, I return to Africa for this coffee. I drank this mostly as an espresso.

Kirimara is a small family-run estate on the lower slopes of Mount Kenya, at an altitude of 1,760 meters. The coffee is grown in the volcanic soil, then hand-picked and sun-dried.

The name translates roughly from Kikuyu as “near a glacier,” and was given to the place by the original British settler who planted the coffee bushes facing the glacier off the peak Batian of Mount Kenya.

and the farm has a a fairly sophisticated marketing Web site.

It even offers helicopter tours for those who wish to visit:

An unforgettable experience will take you to one of the world’s highest national parks, 400 square kilometers of forest and more than thirty jewel-like lakes. The twin peaks of Batian and Nelion crown Mount Kenya, the bulk of which straddles the equator

Here’s a photo slide show.

The tasting notes on the bag and at Novo’s site put the words to what I experienced.

The coffee didn’t bowl me over, but it has a pleasing, subtle flavor. The strongest flavor to me was the toasted nut, with the citrus/currant just a hint in the background. This might be a good coffee to share with friends who are interested in trying high-quality coffee but are not yet ready for exotic or overpowering flavors.

A coffee-obsessed blogger bought three bags of beans at once, one sunny day in August. One of those bags is still nearly full. One is about half-full. And one is completely empty. This is the story of that one, which sits next to my computer, taunting me with a rich, thick aroma of beans that are no more.

A couple of weeks ago, I asked what would happen if someone on the quest for a perfect shot of espresso coffee found what he was looking for? The prize-winning Black Cat from Bolivia roasted by Intelligentsia came close. And there have been a few others that I would put on that list. The sweet-tooth yellow Icatu comes to mind. When you can still remember a coffee you had six months ago, either it was good coffee, or you have an uncontrolled obsession. Maybe both.

What this coffee from El Salvador has in common with that one is the same roaster, Verve, in Santa Cruz, which has a maddeningly minimalist Web site. So finding information has been tricky.

Name El Balsamo-Quetzaltepec

Origin: 100 percent Bourbon variety, Finca San Eduardo, El Salvador

Roasted: Aug. 11 by Verve Coffee Roasters, Santa Cruz, Ca.

Purchased: Aug. 16 at Café Grumpy, 224 W. 20th St., Manhattan, between Seventh and Eighth Avenues.

Description One account: “Has a nectar, clean, creamy body, juicy, ripe, honeyed, lemon, complex acidity.”

In the cup This is the second coffee from El Salvador that I’ve tried in recent months — the other was Los Inmortales from Intelligentsia — and I’m impressed.

It’s tough to find much information online. A search yields brief mentions in retail listings or Spanish-only sites. [Update: See the comments for informative links from a reader.]

Grumpy doesn’t have much information on its Web site, either, about this particular coffee. One can only hope that Verve’s promised site upgrade will be coming soon, though I guess if I had to choose, I’d rather the roaster focus on making great coffee rather than blog design.

The description above, from a Scranton cafe’s Facebook page (yes, people are selling coffee on Facebook!), sounds about right.

This is a creamy sweet coffee, like the yellow Icatu. I found myself drinking shot after shot of it, until the last bean was gone, today. The Barismo Koke suffered in the comparison (an unfair one, since it’s going for a completely different taste experience). For more information about Salvadoran coffees and Bourbon varieties in particular, this page at Sweet Maria’s has some good information (a few years old now).

Apparently, El Salvador used to have a poor reputation compared to the rest of Central and Latin America, but I’m inclined to try more coffees from there, especially from a a quality roaster like Verve or Intelligentsia. And I’ll keep an eye out for this grower, Finca San Eduardo.

So I was all ready to write about this espresso a couple of weeks ago, but then I lost Internet service at home for a week. Long story, not very interesting, but it was an inauspicious start with Verizon DSL service. For many years I paid Earthlink for DSL on top of my Verizon phone line, but the phone company finally found the price point that made me switch. Unfortunately, they did something to the line right away that cut off the Earthlink service before sending me the modem. Then there was trouble on the line, yada yada. I said it was boring. On to the coffee, one of three varieties I bought here in New York.

Name: Koke

Origin: 100 % Ethiopia Yergacheffe

Roasted: Aug. 11 by Barismo of Arlington, Ma.

Purchased: Aug. 16 at Café Grumpy, 224 W. 20th St., Manhattan, between Seventh and Eighth Avenues.

Description: According to Barismo’s site: “A delicate floral perfume lends itself to a darjeeling tea and soft caramel hot cup. Lime citrus notes add a liveliness that mingles with the aromatics in a rewarding and balanced cup.”

In the cup: The barista at Grumpy made me the first shot, and perhaps that ruined me for the rest of this coffee. I’ve never been able to quite replicate the way they pull their shots — full of flavor, almost like a splash of mud sometimes. It’s probably the way the espresso is meant to be experienced, and I can’t quite replicate that at home (instructions on bag: “pull: 16g for 25sec at 200.5 degrees F, totaling 2oz”), since I don’t own a $2,500-plus Clover that lets you precisely set time and temperature. (I’ll add that it was nothing like the Wondo Worka Yergacheffe I tried several months ago.)

That said, it’s a bit much for a daily drink. I’ve never been a big fan of overpowering floral and fruit notes in my coffee, and this espresso has more of that than I’d care to sample frequently. The description above matched my experience, for the most part.  It is certainly a good coffee (Barismo calls it part of its “grand cru” series, an effort to upgrade the quality of espresso). It was something to sample when I was looking for a change of pace, a different taste, not something I felt like drinking three shots in a row, which tends to be a morning ritual lately.

But if you prefer your espressos on the lighter side, shiny and floral and citrus-y, with unusual aftertastes, you might just like this one, if you can get a pro to make it. I found myself favoring the selections from Verve and Novo roasters that I also bought on this trip. I’ll blog about those next when I get a free moment.

After neglecting my blogging for a while, I figured I ought to make note of three excellent coffees from Intelligentsia in Los Angeles that I have been drinking over the past month or so. On a vacation trip in early July to visit family, we made a detour over to Silver Lake, where I bought a mug and a few different bags of single-source beans. I packed them in my suitcase and returned to New York (carrying coals to New Castle in a sense, since some local shops carry Intelligentsia selections). First up is the selection from Guatemala.

Name Itzamna

Origin Finca Maravilla (farm of Mauricio Rosales), in Huehuetenango region of Guatemala.

Roasted July 2, 2009.

Purchased July 5 at Intelligentsia Coffee Silver Lake Coffee Bar, 3922 West Sunset Boulevard, Los Angeles.

Description “Gilded by a citrus acidity, flavors of fruit punch and caramel provide structure. The complexity of the cup elevates into a finish of Swiss chocolate.”

In the Cup When I read a description like that, my first reaction is still, “Oh, come on.” But I have learned to look for any mention of caramel or chocolate, with good results. The coffees with these descriptions don’t necessarily taste like a cup of hot chocolate, but those words tend to suggest something smooth, rich or sweet. Citrus and fruit flavor descriptions tend to signal a more complicated flavor experience.

There also tends to be a difference between a regular cup of Joe and the same coffee as espresso. I tend to favor espresso, but I tried this and the other beans I picked up both ways. I won’t beat around the bush: This is a marvelous coffee, and I have spent many a morning swirling it around in my mouth trying to pick out all the flavors mentioned above. I get quite a bit of something chocolate, and not too much fruit or citrus to be overpowering. So this was a case where the label on the bag did not lead me astray, and as usual Intelligentsia was selling fresh, roasted beans.

I bought an Intelligentsia mug while I was at it (above).

All of the coffees I bought on this little trip were excellent, and I would probably rank this one in third place against the selections from Honduras and Bolivia. But that’s quibbling. It’s pretty amazing stuff.

Here’s a little more about this coffee-growing region of Guatemala from Sweet Maria’s, which contends that consumers can have beneficial political and economic effect by buying from small, co-op single-lot growers.

This coffee is a Bourbon/Caturra grown at 1500 to 1850 meters above sea level. It is purchased direct trade from the grower, and carries Intelligentsia’s “In Season” sticker, which is explained here and in this case means the coffee was harvested from January to April. Mr. Rosales is described someone dedicated to his workers and the environment (there’s more in this pdf, including notes by Geoff Watts, the company’s coffee buyer).

Watts writes that this might be the best coffee from this grower he’s ever had, noting the long tradition of coffee expertise in this area where more than half of the people have are of Mayan descent and have been growing coffee for generations. “Coffees from La Maravilla (HueHue) bring an energetic ripe fruit acidity to Itzamna,” he writes. “This farm was the first to meet the requirements of Direct Trade status, and we’ve had a close relationship for over six years now. This season Mauricio finished constructing new housing for the temporary workers, and we celebrated with a post-harvest party at the farm for all the pickers and their families.”

About the name, he explains:

Itzamna is the creator-deity whose name can be rendered ‘god of nectar’ and was the harbinger of culture, cacao, and maize to the Mayans in ancient lore. We chose the name Itzamna for this offering because we like what he stands
for. He is a beloved deity from Mayan mythology, credited with creating many of the things that make life worth living. He introduced farming and science. And he was always known to be kind and protective towards humans, no mean streak whatsoever. In other words, he is the man. We can only suppose that he has a profound love for coffee as well.”

So now you know. The sad part is, the bag is almost empty.

All the Colours

20th st btwn 7th and 8th, near Cafe Grumpy

I got back to NYC from LA the morning of the 21st and I was at it. I loved what I saw here. When I saw them I was immediately reminded of Calvin Harris’s track “Colours.” New York is known for its black. When you hang your coat somewhere in NY, expect that everyone else’s coat is the same color, black — and if it’s the same style/brand, good luck trying to find yours. With the recent throwback (80s bleeding into the 90s), we have seen much more colour. Thank you gentlemen. Say hi to Maryland for me.

I bought this coffee on Father’s Day, before my daughter and her friends cooked the dads a delicious dinner of salmon, salad, fruit salad and other good stuff. It had been raining in New York City for days, but the sun came out briefly. I bought this instead of the first place winner in the Cup of Excellence, the Fazenda Kaquend, from Brazil, roasted by Ritual Roasters in San Francisco, which my favorite Chelsea cafe was offering for an astounding but perhaps understandable $35 per bag. Instead, I bought a bag of these less expensive beans from Costa Rica for about half that.

I ordered a cup of the Brazilian to go, and it was delicious. But as I walked, about half way up the block to the friends’ apartment where we were having dinner, I was drenched in a sudden downpour, so I don’t remember much more about that cup. Oh, well.

Name Monte Crisol, Coope Palmares

Origin West Valley, Costa Rica

Roasted June 14 by 49th Parallel in Burnaby, British Columbia

Purchased June 20 at Café Grumpy, 224 W. 20th St., Manhattan, between Seventh and Eighth Avenues.

Description From the menu: “Medium body with hints of nuts, caramel and red berries.”

In the Cup I gravitated to this bean because it was from Costa Rica, and I had yet to try any coffees from that country as part of this coffee quest. Later, I could not find the coffee listed under this name at the site of 49th Parallel, a Vancouver-area coffee roaster. Based on reviews and listings elsewhere, it seems to be a single-origin coffee. Coope palmeres (sometimes the words are run together) seems to be a coffee co-op representing several small growers. Here is a bit of information from the site hawaiianorganic:

This dense little “Tica”, the creme of the crema, and is mountain grown, above 1,600 meters, and hails from Coopepalmares, a coffee coop which represents 1,500 small lot parcels in and around the Las Palmares region of Costa Rica. This coffee has delightful bright citrus tones with slight coco hidden in the background. Medium bodied, medium acidity allow one to enjoy naked… The coffee that is… not necessarily you!?

I’m not really sure what that means. But drinking this as an espresso or a regular cup of coffee was a perfectly pleasant experience. It was a little rich and thick in the finish perhaps, almost oily, and I would say the caramel was stronger than any bright citrus. It served me well through the week, and I am almost done with it. I found it to be quite aromatic, and the odor permeated my cloth bag by the time I got it home from the dinner party. It didn’t bowl me over, but it was certainly acceptable and did the job required of it each morning.

By the way, I kept misreading the name as “Cristol” with a T, and that tempted me into the cheap word play in the headline. This would never pass muster as a headline in the newspaper, because it does not “work both ways.” In other words, for good word play, as opposed to dumb puns, the phrase should fit the piece no matter which way you read it. But this post has nothing to do with that old book about revenge for a false imprisonment, which I remember from my youth.

But since this is a blog, I can fiddle around and break a few rules as I please. Sue me.

Cafe Grumpy, the beloved coffee shop below my apartment is opening a new store today in Park Slope at 7th Ave between 11th and 12th streets. If you visit today you can get a free drink or something. Also they are running a nifty promotion where if you buy a bag of coffee or finish your drink punch card, you can enter to win a drawing for a free espresso machine.

Thanks Grumpy!

It has been a week for obsessions, from Twitter to a new addiction, Plants vs. Zombies. The first was the subject of a two-day conference where I was a panelist, even as social media played a role in the Iranian election unrest.

The other is the latest computer game that has consumed too much time of the 9-year-old and, um, others, in our household. It is amusing and addictive. If you play it you will never look at mushrooms or vegetable gardening in quite the same way again.

Somewhere in there I helped my daughter build a replica of Brandenburg Gate out of wood and clay for a school project.

I found myself drinking cups of espresso every morning in rapid succession. I was surprised to find this morning that I was nearly out of this latest selection, without having set down my impressions.

Name Los Inmortales

Origin El Borbollon, Finca Malacara, Santa Ana, El Salvador.

Roasted June 9 by Intelligentsia.

Purchased June 13 at Café Grumpy, 224 W. 20th St., Manhattan, between Seventh and Eighth Avenues.

Description “Poised and articulate with a sustaining sweetness. Notes of white grape and apple assist the acidity as the cup finishes with turbinado sugar,” reads the bag.

In the Cup I picked up this bag of beans on my way to an “Iron Chef” competition at friends’ co-op in Chelsea. The woman ahead of me in line at Grumpy was also buying a bag, skeptical about the fruit flavors. She said she was not a big fan of fruit overtones in coffee, and I have to agree, but I decided to give this a try.

The Iron Chef party was an elaborate affair with multiple courses, judges and appreciative crowd, including children running wild from apartment to apartment. Fresh tomatoes were the mystery ingredient in every dish from the martinis to the dessert. That can be tricky, since tomatoes at this time of year can be a little green and not quite in their prime, I was told.

The food was great, and the week was a whirlwind, from the school project to Twitter-Twitter-Twitter to the other obsessions, including all the iPhone mania and my attempt to find a good netbook (more on that later, perhaps). I have good memories of the espressos I made from this bean all week, moments captured looking out the kitchen window, on my way to something else. Sweet, rich, a good coffee, a strong candidate in my ongoing quest for the perfect cup.

I did not have much time to research Los Inmortales, or its possible relationship to this Cup of Excellence winner from Finca Malacara. That would at least suggest a good pedigree. (I also stumbled across this ironic Iranian coincidence regarding “The Immortals.”)

Intelligentsia gives this extended description on its site:

Poised and articulate in its expression, Los Inmortales characterizes grace and refinement in a glassy clean cup. The sweetness is nectar-like and threaded through the entire taste experience while the acidity curtsies to notes of white grape and apple. The silky mouthfeel glides into a gentle finish of roasted hazelnuts and turbinado sugar.

What can I say, I’m a sucker for sweet coffees that have a creamy or silky mouthfeel (what a word) with a hint of sugar, caramel or chocolate. The acidity is kept in check, and the flavors progress from a slight hint of fruit — grape, apple, maybe, or something vaguely tropical, that hovers in the back of the throat — to a warm, rich finish that goes down smoothly and sweetly.

It makes you want to pour another shot. Which I have just done. And now the beans are nearly all gone, and I must make a trip to get some more. It will be a Father’s Day present to myself.

Name: Haus (No website yet)
Location: 3082 24th Street, San Francisco, CA
Rating: 4-

One might think that the Mission is starting to get high quality coffee saturated with Ritual, Four Barrel, Coffee Bar, and the many wholesale customer who purvey these fine coffees. You’d probably be right, but it’s not as though every corner has one of these shops and rarely do the offshoots do as well as the originals. Besides, distance matters and you may not want to or have time to trek 15 minutes just for coffee.

Enter 24th Street. It’s home to that ever expanding home of dubious coffee quality, Philz, and the nicely designed, but Equator coffee slinging Sugarlump (which I admittedly haven’t yet tried), but 24th Street still lacks a café with seating serving top flight coffee. Just to clarify, I’m not including the Dynamo Donuts here, operating under the belief that its rumored seating section has not opened, but even if it has, Dynamo is far enough east to leave open a niche of good coffee + seating further west. Thank goodness that Haus has finally set up shop.

What Haus does – and it’s not much – it does efficiently. Haus is pure minimalism from its austere, unpainted, bare wood motif, slim selection of pastries and singular espresso and choice of brewed coffee. The key to its success is that it does these few things well. It’s Achilles heal, I suppose, is the risk of conjuring Sprockets-like imagery.

The space, which I imagine could get quite loud with a crowd, is cool and edgy. It’s somehow also still a pleasing place to sit, especially on sunny days with lots of natural light from large windows that overlook busy 24th street up front and an unfinished patio area out back. The three group La Marzocco GB/5 is positively gleaming on it’s bare wood and black marble counter, yet it blends cleanly with the grey, concrete floors.

What I think makes Haus so interesting and well worth checking out is their multi-roaster approach. The specifics are still subject to change as the owners settle into a routine (they were open only a couple of weeks during my first visit), but the current menu involves shots of Ritual’s seasonal espresso and French Pressed coffee from De La Paz (stored in an airpot but frequently replenished). Haus also sells a small number of regularly rotating De La Paz and Ritual beans. This multi-roaster approach both gives customers a broad range of options and a something you can’t get even at the roaster’s own cafe. Haus, of course, is taking a slimmed down approach compared to Cafe Grumpy or Billy Wilson’s Barista, who provide a coffees from several different, often rotating, roasters.

The French Press selection on my visit was De La Paz’s Sumatra Gayoland. It was rich, creamy, dark, herbal and slightly roasted nutty. All in all, a very pleasing, if not particularly exciting cup of coffee.

The espresso, Ritual’s St. Clementine blend, was very fruity and bright, especially up front. There was lots of citrus and a touch of berry in this medium to light bodied espresso that didn’t have a lot of depth, but still worked on the whole, especially given its slightly buttery mouthfeel. The mottled and slightly bubbly crema signaled a mixed bag that ended up quite positive.

Just to compare, I also stopped by Ritual, immediately afterward, for a quick shot of the same. Honestly, I liked the espresso from Haus better, as Ritual’s tended towards wine-like and deep where Haus’ stayed bright and perky. Of course, this outcome could likely change on any given day, with a given barista and particular espresso blend. I should not that since this visit, both cafes have shifted over to Ritual’s next seasonal espresso – the Hopscotch – leaving the whole experiment open to be repeated by you.

So the bottom line, it seems, is that the Mission is not yet fully saturated with Ritual or De La Paz providers so long as they keep thinking of novel ways to present themselves as Haus has successfully done.

Nathan grabbing lunch during his break at Cafe Grumpy.

These days, I seem to be on a musical nostalgia tour. A couple of weeks ago, it was The Dead.

Then last night, my wife and I found ourselves in the crowd for They MIght Be Giants at Le Poisson Rouge, on Bleecker Street in Greenwich Village. The crowd of people in button-downed shirts and khaki was enthusiastic. But it did not have the same energy we recalled from the late 1990s, when the band could fill the Bowery Ballroom, and nerdy fans sat in circles in the line outside singing angst-ridden lyrics they knew by heart. That was long before the band transformed itself a Grammy-winning act for children known for TV and movie theme songs. Anyway, the last thing I did before leaving the apartment was to pull another shot of this coffee, from the Yerga Cheffe region of Ethiopia. It kept me bouncing.

Name: Wondo Harfusa

Origin: Yerga Cheffe, Ethiopia.

Roasted: May 18 by Verve Coffee Roasters, Santa Cruz, Ca.

Purchased: May 25 at Café Grumpy, 224 W. 20th St., Manhattan, between Seventh and Eighth Avenues.

Description: One account: “begins with a hibiscus aroma followed by ripe red fruit flavors of raspberry, red currant and cherry finishing with notes of black tea.”

In the cup: In this ongoing inquiry, I’ve been intrigued by the coffees from this region (notably Wondo Worko). And I know I’m in for a treat whenever I see the Verve Roasters bag at Grumpy.

I tend to be suspicious of “fruit flavors” in coffee descriptions, but these tend to be just traces. In most cases, the underlying flavor is coffee, a category unto itself. That said, I personally think fruit and flower notes can sometimes overpower a coffee, making for a tasting experience that is unpleasant. I can happily report that is not the case with Wondo Harfusa. You can definitely find the ripe cherry and raspberry under the coffee, but it works with the whole. More and more I find I enjoy tasting for these secondary flavors more than I ever expected when I started learning about culinary coffee. Before long, this will probably turn me into the worst sort of coffee snob.

But for now, I’m enjoying my third shot of espresso of the morning and early afternoon, having been up a little too late (after the opener by Mixel Pixel and the somewhat short TMBG set, we headed over to another place in the Village, Cafe Vivaldi, for some more music, and drinks). I thought about finding a way to segue back to the show, maybe with some coffee-related lyrics. Something about getting older, and holding onto the moment, and all that. (I didn’t even mention the helicopters overhead and the motorcade tying up traffic. Barack and Michelle Obama were also having a date that started with dinner in the neighborhood.)

For now I’m content to just let the coffee do its job: Wake me up.

It was a beautiful Memorial Day in New York, and I was getting down to the dregs of the bowl where I throw the leftover beans from my coffee experiments. It was starting to taste a little too much like the bitter Starbucks mistake from quite a while back.

I took a bike ride down to my favorite indie coffee shop, Café Grumpy, using the newish Ninth Avenue lane, encountering just one illegally parked delivery truck that forced me to divert awkwardly into the street.

On the way back, up the older Sixth Avenue lane, it was a nightmare of hazards — cabs veering into the lane to get fares, jaywalkers, wrong-way cyclists and bladers, and, incredibly, a row of half a dozen police squad cars parked neatly in the lane in Herald Square. The N.Y.P.D. does what it pleases.

I’ll note that 21st Street also has a great bike lane, except on Grumpy’s block, where the police personal vehicles are parked at a slant. There’s also a lack of good places to lock a bike. But I managed. There was quite a selection of beans waiting for me, including a big supply of Intelligentsia’s delicious Micay Finca Santuario, but the white bag of this guest espresso from Barismo caught my eye.

Name: Soma espresso

Origin: A blend: 75% Guatemala Finca Cardenas, 10% Guatemela Nimac Kapeh, 15% Kenya Kiandu.

Roasted: May 20 by Barismo of Arlington, Ma.

Purchased: May 25 at Café Grumpy, 224 W. 20th St., Manhattan, between Seventh and Eighth Avenues.

Description: According to Barismo’s site: “Syrupy body and silky mature fruits. Thick and complex yet balanced. An espresso that exemplifies the character of its components but melds in harmony. From a light cask conditioned wine note to a syrupy body with a dash of mellow cocoa.”

In the cup: My coffee quest was derailed in recent weeks by a variety of things — work obligations, mainly, and no time to pick up some quality beans.

I’ve enjoyed every coffee I’ve had from Barismo, and this was no exception. When I got home and finished showering, I made a fresh shot of this (I had bought another coffee, but stuck that in storage for now). I should note that I did not replicate the precise instructions on the bag: “Pull 19 grams in a double basket for 26 to 28 seconds at 198 degrees Fahrenheit totaling 1.25 ounces.” Basically, a smaller volume shot and a high temperature. I used my lazy Barista method, which is dictated by the lazy automated Jura machine that I own. It does the job, but I could be accused of “noodling around” in a manner that compromises quality for convenience. Guilty as charged.

The shot had a foamy creme — almost like a head on beer. It was definitely syrupy and silky, and I’ll have to take a rain check. I couldn’t pick them up. Not that I cared much. Barismo’s blog says there should be “deep red flecking and a heavy mouth feel.” I didn’t really see the flecking, but it was definitely a heavy espresso, which I like. It was a good espresso, and the components do blend together nicely. I made a second shot and definitely picked up the wine note and mellow cocoa. Barismo selections tend to grow on me as I drink them, and I think this one will follow the same pattern.

It certainly erased my irritation with some of the cycling obstacles on the trip down to Chelsea.

This was a good ending for a beautiful sunny weekend of cycling solo and with my daughter and some romping about with friends. As I was writing the date above, I was reminded that this was my mother’s birthday. It had somehow slipped by me. I guess it was fitting to mark it with two of my favorite rituals, a ride through the city and shots of espresso from her native state of Massachusetts (born and raised in North Cambridge). Rest in peace, Catherine Gallagher LaForge, May 25, 1924 to March 26, 1985.

Earlier this week, my quest for a perfect cup of home-made coffee took me to Chelsea Market, where I picked up this direct-trade coffee from the outpost of Ninth Street Espresso at the market. This was part of my at-home vacation, or staycation, which mostly entailed watching my daughter do gymnastics; taking her to a bookstore, a tea house, and a museum; reading some books; sharing fresh Belgian beer with some friends; working out; updating my Twitter status; and, of course, drinking coffee.

Name: Agua Preta, Brazil.

Origin: Produced by Antonio Pereira de Castro and Glaucio Pinto of Fazenda Tijuco Preto in the Carmo de Minas region of Brazil.

Roasted: April 6 or8 by Intelligentsia.

Purchased: April 13 at Ninth Street Espresso, Chelsea Market, 75 Ninth Avenue, between 15th and 16th Streets.

Description: “A silky yet buoyant mouthfeel combines with notes of brown sugar and caramel to create an exquisitely delectable cup. A tamed acidity allows for notes of fudge to blossom right before the buttery finish.”

In the cup: I was at first taken aback by what appeared to be a very old roasting date, which I just found in very tiny type on the price tag. But Ken Nye of Ninth Street Espresso has corrected me in the comments, noting that I was probably misreading the tag and that no coffees he sells are older than 12 days. I’m sorry I doubted. The coffee certainly tasted fresh.

This Yellow Catuai was grown at 1200 meters and harvested in August. Here is an excerpt from the tasting notes from Kyle Glanville, director of espresso at the roaster (full PDF is here):

Agua Preta is our first DT Brazilian coffee for filter, and this first lot comes from Fazenda Tijuco Preto, itself a two-time finalist in the Cup of Excellence competitions. Tijuco Preto is blessed with natural springs and a high-altitude plateau that makes harvesting cherries an efficient and easy task. This pulped natural coffee offers striking balance and drinkability with soft acidity, a perfect cup for a lazy morning with the paper.

Well, where to begin. I’ve been drinking this as espresso for much of the week. This morning I tried it as a regular coffee. Setting aside my ambivalence about the term “mouth feel,’ it was definitely silky in both cases. I don’t know about buoyant. The acidity is low, though the espressos were slightly more acidic. The hints of chocolate, caramel and fudge were there, more or less, especially in the espresso version, but the finish — I guess it is buttery — it is most noticeable in the filter version for some reason. Is “buttery” really the right word? Oh, I suppose. It’s a tasty cup of joe.

I’m on vacation from the job that pays the bills this week, but vacationing is hard work, especially since our daughter is off from school and my wife has to work. I need many shots of espresso to keep up my stamina. On Monday, I hustled my daughter off to a playdate, then wandered off on a chilly but sunny day to the Ninth Street Espresso outpost in Chelsea Market. I was on a specific mission: All of NInth Street’s coffees are roasted by Intelligentsia, which has a roasting lab but no shops in New York. I had been pleased with several Intelligentsia “guest” coffees purchased at Cafe Grumpy, including this Colombian. I’ll have more on the results of the expedition later. How did this bean fare in my ongoing coffee quest?

Name: Micay, Finca Santuario

Origin: Cauca, Colombia

Roasted: March 31 by Intelligentsia

Purchased: April 5 at Café Grumpy, 224 W. 20th St., Manhattan, between Seventh and Eighth Avenues.

Description: “Almost candy-like in its sweetness, notes of licorice root and milk chocolate sustain the acidity as a finish of tart dried fruit and praline linger pleasantly.”

In the cup: For the last several days, this Colombian single-source bean has been loaded up in the Jura and ready to go. I’ve had it as an espresso and as a regular coffee, no milk. It’s hard to say which I prefer more. It seems sweeter as an espresso, though I’m not sure I agree with the “candy-like” description the bag, which is just as well. I’ve certainly tasted coffees with more of a hint of chocolate than this, and too much fruit aftertaste, but this goes down smoothly and pleasantly from start to finish.

This direct-trade and in-season coffee is a Bourbon grown at 1,900 meters or so above sea level and harvested last summer in the Cauca region of Colombia at Finca Santuario, a plantation operated by Camilo Merizalde, which I wrote about earlier. His beans seem to be a favorite of other coffee bloggers. Regrettably, the Intelligentsia blog post about Mr. Merizalde’s farm and methods, quoted in my earlier review of his Heliconias variety, seems to have vanished from the roaster’s blog. But you can find an updated version [also in pdf] (with pictures) with the Micay description:

This coffee marks the first time that we are offering two different botanic varietials from the same farm. This is a rare opportunity since it is not possible to separate most coffees in this way. Many farms are basically monocultures, with 80 percent or more of the crop coming from a single variety. On others with greater diversity, coffee varieties are usually not separated well enough in the field to allow for individual/selective harvesting. On smaller farms, even when varieties are well identified and separated, the volumes are just too tiny to be workable as individual lots.

So, one farm, two great coffees. I’ll keep an eye out for more from Finca Santuario. And Intelligentsia is fast converting me into a believer in its experts’ ability to find great coffees. My Ninth Street expedition this week yielded a couple of other beans from this roaster, a direct trade coffee from Brazil and Intelligentsia’s
“Alphabet City” espresso blend. More on them later this week.

Indian food are very nice. we are talking here indian spacial food as posh bada and more veg food. We can say daal pakodi ya poshbada. Pakodi also known as Bhajiyas or Pakoras in other parts of India are popular in Rajasthan. They are similar to fritters as they are batter fried vegetables. The batter in this case is made of gram flour with spices like chilli powder and jeera. Pakora made from spinach along with onion pakodi and chilli pakodi are among the favourites in this state.

If you love to cook Indian Food then here, at Spices of India, you’ll find the widest selection of Ground Spices, Whole Spices, Beans, Lentils, Appetisers, Snacks, Masalas, Pastes, Pickles, Indian Sweets, Desserts and much more. Vegetables are an integral part of our food and we consume them in a number of ways. For pure vegetarians India is a heaven. In our home, all special occasions are celebrated with plenty of good food. Easter will be no exception. I have already planned my menu and will cook whatever I can, in advance so that I can take it easy on the day.

Indian cooking is as diverse as it is delicious, from simple street snacks served with tart tangy relishes, to light elegant meals and feasts fit for a Maharajah. Once you get the hang of it, you’ll be surprised how easy it is to make.