We create physical objects to communicate brand values.

— Nathanael Balon of WoodSmithe

Beautiful short film—and beautifully co-branded piece of marketing—by WoodSmithe, on their collaboration with Handsome Coffee Roasters in the creation of Handsome’s gorgeous flagship coffee bar and roastworks in the arts district of downtown Los Angeles.

I’ve taken a couple casual tours of the place in its unfinished state and even then, was charmed by the details—the engraved wood tiling in the hall leading from the warehouse to the retail space, the polished concrete floors, and the wall of steel reinforced glass separating the roasting room from the serving area (at once, from the patron’s point of view, open and inviting, but closed and emblematic of the business-like nature of the space behind it)—but I’m excited to see the finished piece.

// Via @drawcoffee

Colombias seem to be very good right now. Tonx had a tasty one a little ways back and this morning I had another fine  example in Intelligentsia’s Finca Santuario Micro-lot.

I made my way over to the only reputable coffee bar in Pasadena, Intelligentsia, and ordered a cup (and carafe, of course—there’s no way out of it) of the Finca Santuario.

Tastes like…

Chicken, of course … just kidding. Prepared in a V60, it was juicy without being tangy and punch-like and the word that came to mind was licorice. Black licorice. Or maybe anise but with a sweetness that wasn’t quite molasses but not white sugar. Caramelized anise? Yeah, that sounds good. It was a full, hefty sweetness, not round but concentrated.

Awesome mouthfeel and a pleasant after-taste as well.

With that sweetness, I wonder what it might be like out of the Chemex. Think they would humor me? If they do, you’ll hear about it here.

Pasadena, anyone?

Oh, and will somebody please fix Pasadena up with another decent coffee bar? It’s like a desert out here with but a single expensive oasis.

Warm SoCal sun streaming in to the cool interior of the Pasadena Intelligentsia. Kenya Gichathaini in our cups (brown sugar, molasses). The lovely Danielle at my side.

Life is good.

…from Pasadena and this juicy, juicy Intelligentsia Kenya Tegu.

Closer to the sun today, I think. That must be it.

The back door

Off Douglass Alley, at Intelligentsia, Pasadena.

Oh, and La Tortuga, if you must know.

A homecoming of sorts. Intelligentsia, Silver Lake being my first exposure to the Chicago import.

Can’t get enough of that tile.

Drinking the Matalapa. Thinking of Oakland.

Thank you Pasadena and Intelligentsia for making this transition a little smoother.

Ritual’s La Folie and Hacienda Carmona

…last cuppings at Modern Coffee

Four Barrel’s Guatemala Antigua Retana (roll that rrrrr!), brewed four ways at Modern Coffee in Oakland, CA.

Winner? The Chemex, for me. A few votes for the V60 as well. Fruity and herbal flavors paramount.

End of an era?

For me, in the face of all of the information swirling around the event, as well as because of the lack of it, a bit of the romance that once was a part of the image surrounding the company in question has been lost. In my experience quantity and quality do not mix well in the food industry but I’ve adopted a wait-and-see attitude. End of an era? In a way, definitely. There’s no avoiding it, regardless of how things turn out. A small, local institution, in a very short period of time, has gotten bigger, increased its reach and wants even more. That’s going to put some people off. It’s going to change the way many people perceive them and their brand. They might loose some customers. I’m sure they are betting they will gain many more.

For my part, my skepticism is piqued when tales of money and secrecy are allowed to flourish in the type of vacuum that is created in the absence of quality PR. But all of this is no matter. The fact that today’s cup of coffee was produced using a stringent eye for quality by any one entity does not mean it will be so tomorrow.

A moving target

I refuse to attend reunion tour concerts put on by the bands of my youth. Those bands had their day and I’ve no need or desire to dwell in some gilded past that only looks so golden through all of the benefits of hindsight. I’ve no intention of clinging to the past of the coffee industry either. It’s not that the best days of coffee are behind us. “The best days” are a moving target, as are quality and passion and craft.

And so, imagine my joy in being made privy to someone just starting a new journey in the coffee industry, and my excitement at being furnished the opportunity to witness it first-hand, and of having the chance to partake of the fruits of someones nascent passion, one-on-one, and to take that journey with them, in some small way, as a grateful recipient of their work.

And the serendipity… two different “friend-streams” converging into one: one revealing to me the presence of the micro-roaster himself, and the other highlighting the presence of the pop-up café with which this roaster and these housemates, with both entrepreneurial and philanthropic spirit, are able to present themselves to the world ((There may be other journeys beginning here as well, but that’s probably for another site.)).

OneNinetySeven & the Rogue Café

Eric Thoreson is the coffee roaster, OneNinetySeven is the roasting operation. Rogue is the pop-up café. On Saturdays, from 9am until 1pm Eric Thoreson and the house residents of 654 60th Street (AKA “The Green House”), here in Oakland, California, open up their garden-like backyard to neighbors and friends, both new and old and serve up small, edible goodies and coffee.

Pastries have been made by both Emma Sullivan (a local baker) and Ciara (a member of the Green House household) at various times and the baked offerings are different every week. Two weeks ago it was a mushroom & asparagus frittata and an olive oil, hazelnut, cherry muffin. This last, it was candied bacon with a touch of cayenne and a berry tart with a buckwheat crust.

Coffee preparations are determined by Eric with the backbone being pour-over, using ceramic Beehouse drippers. Last week, on the Beehouses, it was a Guatemala Finca La Providencia Dos from the San Pedro Necta, Huehuetenango region. This last Saturday was a treat, with Eric busting out, as promised, a Mypressi Twist and a commercial-grade espresso grinder in order to pull shots of his wonderfully balanced and sweet Faux Pas seasonal espresso blend. On the drippers was the delicate but tangy fruit of his Tanzania Mbinga.

Beginning of an era

A door closes, another opens. It can’t be helped and I’m not going to continue to trumpet any particular coffee purveyor’s dedication to quality when that dedication is patently absent. In the grand scheme of things coffee quality and producer integrity certainly doesn’t rank with other, more pressing matters like the sorry state of American politics or the belief in false prophets but blind faith is blind faith. I’m not saying that scion of recent Pacific Northwestern coffee fame has taken its eye off the prize. I just don’t hold any illusions that it won’t. But I prefer not to focus on the steady target of brand and image. Instead, I try to fix my gaze on the moving target that is quality, integrity and passion for craft. That’s where you’ll always find the good stuff.

See you next Saturday, in the garden, espresso or drip coffee in hand.

The skinny

Rogue is a pop-up. That means it’s best to check and make sure it’s going to be where you think it’s going to be before you head out on your coffee journey. The best places to look for information are 1) at the OneNinetySeven website, 2) on the Rogue Café Facebook page and 3) on Twitter.

The roastery at Verve

An epic weekend journey led us from Oakland to Santa Cruz and, well, when in Santa Cruz, one does not bypass Verve if one is at all interested in fine coffee prepared well.

FWIW: Costa Rica Los Angeles Reserve Espresso, plain and as a macchiato. Not so sure it held up to the milk that well, but as a shot it was absolutely gorgeous: as bright as the day. Citrusy. Chocolate. Tasty.

Construction zone (click to enlarge)

But it’s all for a good cause. And it doesn’t keep me from returning. It’s the coffee that keeps me coming back. That, and the fascination with watching the space develop before my eyes. I’m not the only one. It was sometime in 2009 that I ran across the cart behind the roll-up door and witnessed the cavernous space behind the white canvas curtains. It set the imagination running. The possibilities seemed limitless.

All. That. Space.

I asked, and everyone else asked as well. Question after question about what the plans were, what it was going to look like, what that corner and this upper mezzanine was going to become. All of the questions were happily fielded. They’re still being asked – by myself and, it seems, nearly every other customer – and they’re still happily answering. Even as the space is becoming increasingly finished and detailed, I’m still intrigued.

This morning, a macchiato, a bag of Costa Rica Helsar de Zarcero Arce Microlot and a smoked ham and gruyere “pop-tart” (the copyright must’ve run out on that term) from Tell Tale Preserve Co. The macchiato: delicious – still the butter-brickle and the delicate acidity. The Helsar will have to wait until I fire up the Chemex in the morning. The “pop-tart” was delicious and at $2.50 not nearly as expensive as it tasted.

And just in case you weren’t sure Sightglass wasn’t in it for the long-haul, rest easy…

That’s a medallion. Embedded into the concrete outside the roll-up door. Yeah, you’re stuck with ‘em now.

Afterwards Justin, Pamela and Jeremy generously presented all thirty people in attendance with a cupping of various Ethiopian coffees.

Much thanks to all for both a wonderful presentation and an expertly run cupping and I am looking forward to more such events in the future. Highly recommended.

The new "Annex"

Pre-presentation foreshadowing of what was to come

Jeremy Tooker, owner of Four Barrel Coffee in San Francisco, CA preps us for up the cupping

Jumbo kettles

Justin and Pamela of Four Barrel Coffee expertly ran the cupping portion of the evening

Selina and Kristen, of Modern Coffee in Oakland, breaking the crust

Justin, removing the crust from the cupping cups

The Outer Sunset is a desert. For the coffee aficionado in San Francisco there are precious few outposts as you approach the Pacific Ocean down the Judah corridor. I can count the number of fine Outer Sunset coffee purveyors I would gladly visit on one hand and still have enough grip to hold a coffee cup.

A couple weeks ago I made a visit to one of those outposts – Trouble. It had been awhile. My initial visits were so long ago that they were still using Ecco. These days, for espresso, it’s custom spec’d beans from De La Paz. One of these, “The Hammer” was on bar when I visited.

The official name is Trouble Coffee and Coconut Club – they are known as much for the fact you can get fresh coconut juice (and I mean fresh, as in poke-hole-in-coconut-and-insert-straw fresh) as for their coffee. Their other trademark is their thick-cut slices of cinnamon toast. Acme bread when I last checked. Brings me back to saturday mornings as a kid, lying on the floor watching Loony Toons, filling up on cinnamon toast and waiting for the sugar coma crash to kick in. Good times.

Trouble is a tiny place. Intimate. The decor is eclectically rough-hewn, found-item-chic and idiosyncratic. Exploring its details is evocative of one of those moments where you are left alone for a few minutes in a new apartment, the apartment of someone you’ve just met, where every detail seems fresh, exotic and mysterious and every single mundane item feels as if it reveals an important and possibly secret truth about the person. There’s lots of found wood and old photos of anonymous people. I can’t decide weather it’s all style but it’s effective.

The Hammer – Trouble’s custom seasonal espresso

The coffee used to make the shot they served me on my last visit to Trouble was entitled “The Hammer”.

“Quite a name”, I thought.

I found it a little harsh up front but “The Hammer” very quickly developed into juicy blackberry and fragrant vanilla. I enjoyed it more, thought that it became more flavorful, as it cooled. “Juicy” was indeed the descriptor I think best sums it up. A juicy hammer. Very nice.

As I understand it, “The Hammer” is a single origin Costa Rica (Cafe Alajuela) sourced and roasted by De La Paz, that the coffee they get from De La Paz is unique to them and that Trouble, in general likes to serve seasonal SOs on their machine as often as is possible. It’s all the more reason to make the trip out west, the fact that, more often than not, what you’re getting day in and day out is a seasonal single-origin shot. It’s something that’s special to rare at many cafés. At Trouble it’s nearly every day.

Having said that, I understand the espresso has changed since I visited to De La Paz’s much lauded ”Cherry Chapstick” while they wait for another SO that is to their liking.

I don’t know that I like the fact that source of Trouble’s coffee is masked by cute names. I don’t usually like that. I’m more for transparency. The person behind the counter displayed no hesitation in offering up the name of the roaster when asked, though.

Trouble’s drip coffee – “Elbow Grease” – comes from another roaster. I didn’t ask who it was and I didn’t have any of it. Looking at Trouble’s website, I see it’s a French Roast. Hmmm. Not that interested.

Don’t forget about Trouble

Trouble is smack in the middle of endless acreages of homes and not much else, as you make your way down Judah, through the Outer Sunset, on your way to the Pacific Ocean. It’s all under a dull steel-grey sky most of the time but it’s well worth the feeling of isolation that might overcome you as you look out the window of the N train at that endless sea of faded pastel-colored single family homes and wonder if you are still, in fact, in San Francisco. It’s quirky and unique and, at least in the case of the espresso it gets from De La Paz (as I said, I know nothing about their drip except the roast level), it treats a quality product with respect.

It’s an oasis in this particular desert.

I have a perfectionist’s streak in me when it comes to some things. Writing is one of those things. Every word has to be perfect. Every sentence needs to be planed, honed and buffed to a majestic sheen before I feel comfortable releasing the mess out into the world.

I also have, just to balance things out a bit, a streak of impulsivity. I have a long rope but that rope has an end and when I simply can’t stand how perfectionist me is obsessively attending to every last grammatical detail of a piece of writing in the vain hope of achieving blog post perfection, impulsive me rips the keyboard out from under perfectionist me’s little fingers and recklessly presses the publish button.

Sometimes I think that without impulsive me I would never publish anything. And so, I give you the most belated article in Daniel of Arabica’s history…

*

I’ve been noticing something lately: with increasing frequency, I’m hearing good things about places to eat and grab a cup of coffee in San Francisco’s SOMA neighborhood. I don’t know if I can say “you heard it here first” but mark my words: if you are talking about hip-factor, an urban frontier-like atmosphere and a food driven street culture then SOMA is setting itself up to be the new Mission.

Welcome back, SOMA

I say give it another year and I think that anyone who is interested in finding a plentiful supply of places to have a high-quality, forward-thinking, sometimes cutting-edge (my, but isn’t that a lot of hyphens!) but still casual culinary experience in San Francisco is going to be putting SOMA on their short-list. The Mission seems like it has reached a saturation point, that it has reached the pinnacle of its hipster caché, plateued, that its “over-exposed”. I think SOMA is ready to take its place. And here I thought it was all but over for the poor place.

SOMA is, in a way, a kind of land that time forgot; a product and victim of the internet bubble of the 90s, of loft development gone amok, of a massive wave — a tsunami, really — of newly money-laden internet entrepaneurs that quickly welled up and then receded with similar speed. But it’s back — or at least its on its way — but in a slightly altered and less frenetic form.

Possibly, it’s the new Mission Bay development’s presence just south of the Giants ball park that’s spurring activity again in an area of San Francisco that, until recently was better known for it’s stifling rush-hour traffic congestion than for fine living, eating and drinking. SOMA’s big four lane one-way traffic arteries stop up like a clogged drain during rush hour, as everyone tries to make their way home via the Bay Bridge or the 101. In recent years there has also been some development pressure from SOMA’s northern border in the form of the new Westfield shopping center on Market Street and all the “clean up” the city of San Francisco is trying do on the stretch of Market directly northwest of it. So possibly it is a sort of “sandwhich effect” (my own term, thank you very much). As two sides that roughly fringe the SOMA neighborhood transform into places people might want to spend some time in, a sort of slow pressure is being placed on the area.

New kid

Pitstop at Sightglass by Tonx

Sightglass Coffee Bar & Roastery is one enterprising new-kid-on-the-block in this reemerging neighborhood in San Francisco. Sightglass has a limited but, roughly, weekly rotation of beans that they source from Verve Coffee Roasters in Santa Cruz. A note on Verve: Verve is another roaster – like Barefoot Coffee in San Jose – that is relatively local but still, for the small circle I regularly travel in, geographically remote for me. I’ve been aware of them through the grapevine for some time but, again, much like Barefoot, an opportunity to sample their “wares” has, until recently, never presented itself to me. That is until Sightglass opened their doors (or should I say “door” – roll-up, no less – but more on that in a second). The deal is, apparently, that Sightglass has been graced with special access to Verve’s inventory of roasted beans. The Sightglass brothers (more on this as well) make a weekly trip to Santa Cruz (poor guys) and pick out three coffees they wish to present to the public via their, as yet, tiny – but beautiful – storefront. Sightglass even goes so far as to put together a select mélange of Verve’s stock of beans to use as their espresso blend.

The space

Sightglass occupies an invitingly compact corner of what is an incredibly voluminous warehouse space on 7th St. between Howard and Folsom. This immense space will, in time, become the official Sightglass café and roastery but while we are all waiting for that to happen, the people of Sightglass have not allowed the space from which they currently serve to appear anything but first-rate. The intimate little piece of real estate out of which Sightglass is currently running is handsomely decorated in a warm but still post-industrial pallet of wood, rust, canvas and concrete. Think Four Barrel but instead of FB’s aesthetic that resembles a kitschy homage to a Canadian hunting lodge, imagine the warmth of natural wood along with a more conspicuous nod to the Sightglass space’s industrial past. You enter, on 7th St., through an open roll-up door, probably around 12 feet tall, that presents to you, in a somewhat dramatic fashion, an espresso cart gorgeous with rust. Yes, gorgeous. Those of you who patronized San Francisco’s Four Barrel Coffee Roasters while it was still serving espresso on Caledonia Street (an alley, really, and the back side of what is now its current location) will remember it because, well, it’s the same one. I’ve no idea how they got it. The cart has the handsome and evocatively weathered look of an unrestored artifact that was dug out of the wreckage of an abandoned early 20th century building site – a reception desk in the art-deco lobby of a 1930s office tower, maybe, or the conductor’s perch for an opulent big-band jazz hall? – and it is the centerpiece of the current space it calls home. That space is flanked by the raw concrete wall of the building on one side and a near floor to – extremely tall – ceiling length sheet of white canvas on the other. In front of the canvas sheet is a simple wood bench. On the concrete wall, a wood shelf. On the shelf – and it has been this way on every visit – a small but tasteful arrangement of flowers in a Chemex pot. Peer behind the canvas wall – and it seems that, by how easy it is to do so, they are encouraging you to – and you will see a large roaster seemingly dwarfed by the immensity of the unfinished space around it. It seems to sit patiently, waiting to come to life when the final form of the café finally takes shape. The space is the sort of empty warehouse environement that shouts “potential” even on a cursory glance: a tall, square and empty expanse with multiple mezzanine levels surrounding it. It’s like a blank canvas. The style evident in those myriad tiny details doesn’t end there, either. No, no. The espresso machine on which they were working from on my first visit was a paddle machine graced by naturally finished wood details. The paddles were wood. The two ends of the machine were wood. The steam wand knobs were, yeah, you guessed it…wood. I’d never seen anything like it. Their newer espresso machine (a “Slayer” brand machine…mmmm-hmmm, “Slayer”) is just as beautiful. It is still a paddle machine and the details are of the quality of gourmet kitchenware. The construction of each paddle resembles nothing less than the riveted handle of a chef’s knife. Dark wood this time. Really exquisite. Once again, no aesthetic detail seems to get past the owners, nothing remains untouched. All of this rigorous attention to aesthetic detail can be a good sign. An owner’s attention to detail in the design of culinary spaces can sometimes indicate an equally stringent attitude towards the preparation of their product.

The people

I don’t normally talk about the people that work at a café. Not that there aren’t people worthy of attention at every place I visit, mind you. It’s just that, well, I don’t do that. I don’t do profiles of people. For one thing, I don’t think anyone would be interested in a profile of them penned by me. That sort of responsibility, too; accurately representing the true nature of an individual using the written word. Challenging. Very challenging. It’s enough, for me, getting out something in text that I feel portrays the feel and physical details of a place or the flavors in a cup. Someday I might feel up to the challenge but not right now. So, this isn’t going to be about a person. Not exactly. Not on an individual level. I felt I had to say something, though, about the contribution of those people behind the bar I have come across at Sightglass. Something about the vibe – for lack of a better word – of the place and the contribution that their presence gives to the overall feel. I’ve mentioned, earlier in this piece, the bustling nature of San Francisco’s SOMA neighborhood; the cars and the congestion, the light industry that pervades the area. As I walk through the area, there are sections of SOMA that can make you feel as if you have accidently stumbled onto a freeway. Cars and trucks rush by on four lane streets. Always, it seems, they are on their way somewhere else. SOMA is simply on their way to getting there. If it sounds hectic it’s because, quite frankly, it is. It can be a noisy frantic sort of place. One thing that has marked my visits to Sightglass is that, despite all of the activity around, I have always left feeling refreshed and rejuvenated. “Well, of course you have”, I can hear you saying. “It’s a café, for cryin’ out loud. That’s what caffeine is supposed to do”. I hear you, really I do but that’s not it. It’s not simply a function of the design either. The wood and concrete and the canvas and the rust. All of that is nice. Classy. The wood especially. Calming. Elemental. All of this adds to the feel of the place. But it’s the people that have most notably contributed to the sense of ease and comfort on all of my visits. The graciousness and generosity of the staff as a whole, not just that of a single person, has been refreshing. The lack of ego at this place is amazing. From the two fraternal owners on down, you’re not likely to come across a nicer bunch of people behind an espresso machine in San Francisco than you will here.

But what about the coffee?

Lest I become overly wrapped up in the feel-good Sightglass vibe I had better get on to the business at hand, namely the “Arabica” in “Daniel of Arabica”. Sightglass serves up their store of Verve coffee beans in two ways: brewed on the “Slayer” espresso machine I mentioned before or as a Chemex pour-over.

On the “Slayer” is their custom espresso blend made up of a selection of Verve beans. It’s a wonderful shot: sweet, buttery, earthy with a “black cherry” fruit acidity that comes on quickly and leaves just as fast. Wonderful in milk – where the sweetness and acidity peeks through – and great on its own. One of my favorite shots.

In the Chemex one can choose from their roughly, weekly rotating selection of beans. On my various visits I have had the pleasure of trying two Chemex cups. One, the Burundi Kenyovu was a wonderfully clean and juicy cup that exhibited just what the short and simple description promised: nectarine and honeydew. It promised “walnut” as well but I didn’t believe the “walnut” until after it cooled and then, bam, there it was. Very impressive. The second cup of Chemex was what Verve calls their “1950s Blend”. Unfortunately, for the time being, the name remains a mystery. Asked what the name referred to, not even one of the owners of Sightglass could come up with an answer. Regardless, it was also an exceptional coffee exceptionally prepared. A chocolate bomb, actually.

Coda

As I put the finishing touches on this post the pace of construction at Sightglass seems to picking up. The concrete is pouring, the glulam is going up, the welders are lighting their torches, and plans are being approved. This version of Sightglass is destined to cease existence very soon. In it’s place, I trust, will be an even grander version of the small and intimate café

… and a coda to the coda

Since writing the previous coda (see the editor’s note up top) Sightglass has been truckin’ along. The roaster – that beautiful, lonely beast that sat, conspicuously, in the middle of Sightglass’s cavernous space – is now up and running. Yep, Sightglass is roasting its own now. Kudos to them.

Made a Verve Pilgrimage of sorts today. Over the hill and through the woods of Santa Cruz to the house of Verve, I went. Delicious cappuccino with the Winter Streetlevel espresso blend. Laid back vibe. Beautiful roasting facility next door. Burundi Bwayi Tasting notes forthcoming. Click the images to see larger versions.

Twitter posts here and here.

Remedy:

Taken on Telegraph Ave. in Oakland.

Remedy is a new café opening, according to its owner, in “around six or seven weeks”. They are serving coffees from Ritual.

Currently, the café consists of this little cart out front (à la Four Barrel and Sightglass both of whom kept or keep a cart as an ad hoc pre-café before the opening of their proper cafés) of their space containing an espresso and a Clover machine. In the window of the building is a distinctive and quite large question mark that, as I can attest, does a great job of attracting interest from passers by.

“On tap”, as it were, at the Remedy cart are a small selection of Ritual coffees, all of which are available on the Clover and one of which (currently, I beleive, Ritual’s High Striker seasonal espresso blend) is available on the espresso machine.

On my initial visit I partook of a Clover’d cup of the Daterra Sweet Blue from Brasil. Beautiful cup: sweet (as you might expect), hints of cola, Red Vines and milk chocolate, full bodied. Very nice.

(Untitled):

The Creamery, another hip little SOMA addition, has a simple menu with crépes and…and…well, I guess I was entrnced by the crépe menu. It also carries Ritual coffee. Both in the bag and on the bar and with very recent roast dates. That’s a good thing.

I had other plans so I did not get to try the coffee. Scratch that. I made another trip back. Great crepe (“Hawaiian” with ham [of course], pineapple [of course] and brown sugar [mmmm…different]). Delicious iced coffee (cold-brewed using Ritual beans but I’m not sure what it was).