Adios, Ristretto

To call the New York Times "the paper of record" is to pay it a great compliment, but it is not quite sufficient: It is perhaps the only paper that matters in this country. And so it mattered a great deal that Oliver Strand's Ristretto column appeared in those hallowed pages, given space beside other more celebrated indulgences such as wine, food and fashion. It elevated in the eyes of the lay-reader the humble cup of coffee to something beyond a black and bitter stimulant. And to those of us who live coffee, for whom the industry is our home, his column was a thing to be celebrated. This was a voice stating our cause on the nation's largest print stage, discussing without irony the craft of coffee, and those who are committed to it. It felt like we mattered, just a little bit, when reading about Bear Pond on the same pages as whatever lardcore eatery is currently trendy.

And it's gone now.

We are reminded on the front pages of that same paper that there are real and genuine tragedies in the world today, and that this is really not so bad, when viewed with the right perspective. So I won't call this tragic, or try and ascribe to it false importance. It was a very good newspaper column that will no longer exist. And it was only ever about coffee, really. There is no tragedy here.

And yet it's hard not to feel a sense of loss, like the community is being cheated just a little bit. This was not just a column that wrote informative articles on how to better prepare coffee, or how to procure it in certain cities. Beyond merely informing the readership about those specific things, its very existence argued that this information was worth having, that coffee was a thing worth discussing and considering. Put simply: If coffee mattered to you, Ristretto mattered to you.

There is a void now. Coffee has other articulate voices, to be sure, but they are largely sequestered away on personal blogs or in industry specific publications. James Hoffmann simply cannot reach the same number of people, and no one subscribes to Barista Magazine unless they're already convinced that the trade is worthwhile. Ristretto had that platform, and an audience of the nation's tastemakers to speak to. And in Mr. Strand, it had a voice that was educational without being condescending - something the coffee industry famously struggles with. The reader was never made to feel foolish for having never heard of a Hario V60. Instead, they finished the article interested in trying coffee prepared with one. I once had a customer order a cortado specifically because it was mentioned in Ristretto.

Of course, the tide of specialty coffee is still rising. Even within our industry, this is no measure of doom. There will be other writers in other publications doing many of the same things - perhaps Strand himself will return elsewhere. He does have a book on coffee, set to be released sometime soon I hope, for which I have high expectations. But make no mistake, this is a setback, and it is disappointing. Ristretto was, in the paper of record, the coffee column of record.

And now we are left with nothing but its record, which you can and should read.

Skinning Cats

http://conditioningresearch.blogspot.com/2012/12/gnosticism-in-health-and-fitness.html

I really don't like starting off by requiring you to read something else. Ideally, this blog could function in a vacuum, and add value to your life, independent of anything else. But, reality doesn't function that way. And even if it did, I don't have any unique wisdom to impart. Oh well.

So what I'm going to do is this, basically: I'm going to ask you to read the article posted above. Then, I'm going to steal the author's concept, and apply it to coffee. Got it? All right then, let's go.

We as baristas, shop owners/managers, and internet "gurus" have to sell something in order to distinguish ourselves from the competition. If I tamp like every other barista, why should you hire me? If I run my business the same way, why should you buy from me? And if I write the same things, why should you read me? The answer, of course, is that you wouldn't. So if I'm truly interested in marketing either myself, my shop, or this blog, I have to convince you that I have some unique, some way of doing things that runs counter to what conventional wisdom dictates.

Make no mistake; this is often a good thing. Every business needs innovators, and coffee is no different.  We need to baristas, managers, and writers who are willing to simply try shit sometimes.

But the crucial thing is that we remain humble, and never lose sight of the fact that there are many right ways. Coffee is an impossibly complex plant, with nearly infinite viable uses and preparations. While we explore those uses and seek to innovate, we need to avoid denigrating and trampling the efforts of others.

Using an inverted Aeropress may yield a good cup at your cafe, but that in no way invalidates the right-side-up using cafe down the street. Nor does it mean the pour-over guys around the block are a bunch of tools. Dare they serve a blend? Perhaps they even roast their beans a shade darker than you.

It's all good.

So long as you're all using good beans, and tending to them a careful and attentive manner, the result will almost always be quality.

Dustin Hoffman, Steak, and Identity

I am reading a New York Times profile of Dustin Hoffman, having just finished another about a yoga instructor, the name of whom I've forgotten already. The interviewer sets the scene for Hoffman, noting the ashen sky, his tennis shoes, and that they are sitting down to lunch. Then, as an aside, we are told that Hoffman has ordered the "steak and chips". (We are in England, and so the latter is in keeping with local nomenclature.) The yoga instructor, we are told, is a vegetarian.

We are told these things, because they create the picture of the person, and serve also to confirm it. Hoffman is a an aging slice of Americana, and even when abroad, eats as such. The yoga instructor is slim, bald, and has a jarring lucidity in his eyes. We are not told of the wheatgrass drink he consumed for breakfast, or the quinoa he will have for lunch; but it is not hard to imagine.

You are what you eat.

There is a similar phenomenon regarding what you drink. It too suggests things about you, and would equally be at home in a profile. We might also be told that Hoffman ordered a beer, or that he had coffee. We can imagine him scoffing at the myriad of flavor descriptors given to the brew, satisfied with coffee being coffee, same as always. Our yoga instructor, probably, does not drink coffee. Perhaps he is worried about adrenal fatigue.

Of course, I could be wrong. But unless we know otherwise, those assumptions seem safe. Or at least, they feel right. Everything about people informs everything else about them, and the whole gives us an idea about the parts. And so we generalize, we guess, we bullshit, because that's the best we can do. And often, that does get us pretty close.

Of course, sometimes it misses wildly. But this is not about how one ought to judge a book, merely how we do. It's worth keeping in mind, that what we eat, drink, and otherwise consume creates and perpetuates who we are.

Project Vvlgar Interview

It's fitting, on Valentine's Day, that I link to a blog after my own heart. It's called Project Vvlgar, and I am interviewed here. This is not typical coffee talk. Or rather, perhaps it is. Baristas and coffee shop patrons are both stereotyped as being prone to meandering dialogs on life, the universe, and everything. This, I suppose, is an accurate reflection of that. 

The site also has a nice aesthetic, somewhat minimalist, and very clean. Given that, you will probably want to look around a bit; this is an idea worth indulging. At the very least, read How to Drink (and Enjoy) Black Coffee, as well as What Tastes Better, a Latte or a Cappuccino? Both posts cover ground that's well trod, but almost never as well or as clearly. If I taught Coffee 101, these would be required reading.

New Media, Same As the Old Media?

There have been a lot of words written about writing, and about the new age thereof. Thanks to formats like the one you're reading now, the erstwhile gatekeeper now guards a passage anyone with the internet can circumvent. Start a blog, write what you want. It's that simple.

Of course, getting anyone to read it is another matter, and quite difficult. That anyone can start a blog means that many people do, and in such a maelstrom, it can be difficult to stand out. There are no shortage of tips on how to accomplish this, many based on the exploitation of new media formats.

With this in mind, we revisit the idea of the gatekeeper, whose demise was perhaps reported prematurely. A blog that already has readers can do an awful lot to help one that does not, either by linking or offering guest posting opportunities.

Mike, at Daily Shot of Coffee, has done all of those things for me.

First, there were these two articles.

Later, Baristing was listed as one of the internet's must-read coffee blogs.

My readership has grown quite a bit since then. I've been linked elsewhere, and contacted by companies both large and small for reviews and promotional opportunities (a discussion of two new Caribou coffees is forthcoming).

But before today, I'd never been featured in an interview.

They call the internet new media, but in some ways, it performs very much like the old. While there are now few regulations and restrictions on content creation, there are still arbiters and promoters, still those to direct the flow of traffic.

There is still the matter of content. Guest posting is a great idea - if the post is a good advertisement for your writing. And while linking generates first time hits, it does nothing for repeat traffic. Ultimately, this is still writing. People have to read it, and not hate the experience.

All of this is not to say that I have any particular insight on how one might create a popular blog, or even a good one. We can debate about whether Baristing is either of those things. What it says, rather, is that I'd like to return a blip of traffic to Mike's site, and that we're still playing by many old rules. 

Thanks

First things first: If diet coke and espresso form a rather less-than-the-sum-of-its-parts mix, diet coke and cold press make something so much better. It's like chocolate sparkly dessert coffee, or something like that. It's so good you almost won't be ashamed to admit it, sipping it behind the counter, insisting to anyone that asks that you're just drinking iced coffee - nevermind the bubbles you think you see. You still won't put it on the menu, though; if for no other reason than admitting to creating (and having to name) the abomination.

Be thankful for that conversation, that will never happen. And while we're at it, be thankful for other things as well. Be thankful for pour-over cones, single cup trends, and lighter beans. And be thankful for the overly-sweet stuff that actually makes you money. Mostly, be thankful for the source of that money, the customers - who are really much more than that. There are surely other things as well, specific to you. But I wouldn't know anything about that.

But I do know about myself, and the things I'm happy about, this random day in November.

- That this blog has supplied me with free beans, to such an extent that I've not paid for a bag in... longer than I can recall.

- That anyone reads this, honestly.

- That I'm getting to play coffee bar manager, on a daily basis. And no one is making me stop.

- Latte art. I can do it.

- The races I ran, both the positive results and the negative. You learn from all of it, maybe more the latter.

- The trails out at Clinton Lake. I haven't had a bad run there, and every race goes better than I had hoped.

- That this isn't the end of anything. I can, rather unbelievably, call myself a coffee bar manager and ultramarathon runner (well, I ran most of it...). But the coffee, running, and writing, will all get better.

A Dreadful Fantasy

If there have been a lack of words here recently, you can blame Joe Abercrombie, whose skill at putting them together so dwarfs my own that I hardly feel qualified to do it at all. He's popularly considered the best young fantasy writer - maybe the best, period, if only George Martin would die - which is almost an insult, insofar as fantasy writers are barely considered writers at all. They deal in swords and sorcery, rather than the human condition, weave massive epics without touching on anything real. And all that passive voice. 

There is a post somewhere else contesting that false conclusion, but for now, I'll just say that it is wholly false.

Abercrombie does root all of his swooping plot in reality, at least, the reality of emotion. The characters feel how you think they ought - how you think you would - rather than puffed up caricatures. They are flawed people, some more deeply than others. But even that is too judgmental a phrase. More accurately, they are complex characters. It's not a question of black or white, or even shades of gray, but rather the full spectrum of colors.

There are battles, because there are always battles. But there is no obvious objective; the two sides are fighting, mostly, because they are. We get the perspective of a litany of "main" characters, and brief interludes with smaller players. (Usually, they die shortly after introduction.) A common refrain is the myriad of ways in which war is a miserable business for all involved. You can't help but find yourself agreeing, almost feeling guilty for indulging in the violence fetishism that pervades so much popular fiction.

You almost want both sides to walk away, the characters to go home, and nothing much to happen. Almost. It's a disgusting business, war, but it's captivating. And so too is the characters' neurosis, their agony and their apathy.

This is nowhere more obvious that the morning scenes, the proverbial calm before the storm. These are people muttering about going to work, essentially, barely removed from our modern drudgery. It is also these scenes, however, which furthest remove me from the plot. It's not that I don't care, or that the writing is any less crisp, witty and descriptive.

I simply cannot stand the thought of waking up and facing a day's work without coffee. Nevermind the nights spent without a room, without a fire or food. Nevermind the almost certain prospect of horrific injury and pain. War is hell, they say, and Abercrombie does as good a job of illustrating that as anyone I've read. But if that's the case, war without coffee is the deepest circle.

Me the Barista

People get ideas from all sorts of places. Me, I prefer to find mine in writing, though they tend to spring up from other places too. The radio is a decent source of inspiration, cliche as it might be to cite song lyrics. The funny thing is, it’s usually the mindless pop lyrics that inspire some sort of creative blip. What if Katy Perry is right; what if someone really was a firework? That would really be unfortunate. I picture someone walking around, exploding in to a panoply of colors as a crowd of onlookers oohs and ahs; maybe there is a smattering of applause. What does paradise feel like, Britney? And when did Lady Gaga go from talking about riding disco sticks to singing after school specials about empowerment and gee golly gosh, I’m perfect the way I am?

Most of these ideas are fleeting, entertained only to be dismissed. This is all well enough, since most of them aren’t worth anything anyway. Once in a while, something might pop up that’s useful. When that happens, I makes some effort to hold on to it, then to craft it in to something worthwhile. Then, if that happens, I might write about it. Usually, I try and relate it to coffee somehow, since that’s what this blog is basically about.

I say that, but I’m not sure that’s proven to be the case. I started this blog as a means to write about coffee, but mostly it’s been an excuse for me to write whatever strikes me, to entertain whatever muse I might possess at a given moment. I’ve tried to keep coffee in the picture, however, and that’s not hard to do. I mostly always have a cup of the stuff in my hand; if not there is an empty mug sitting nearby. This is almost always the case, up until evening, when I decide I should probably lay off the caffeine, since I have a difficult time sleeping as it is. Sometimes I will seek out a cup of decaf, but not usually, since doing so invites a sort of derision, even if I’m only imagining it. There is something sacrilegious about a self proclaimed coffee geek ordering decaf, and so I don’t.

It would be more accurate to say that the blog isn’t about coffee, so much as inspired by it. Voltaire and Beethoven supposedly downed cups of the stuff daily, fueling their creative efforts. And though it would be ludicrous to put myself in their company, there is no doubt that caffeine stimulates the brain to do things it might otherwise not. The body is not unaffected as well. Without coffee, I don’t think I’d be able to keep up the fitness regimen I subject myself to. I say that like it’s some sort of torture, but truthfully, it’s the days off that are hard. My body has almost become addicted to the movement, to the the effort, and it becomes stiff and lethargic in the absence thereof. And writing too, so often derided as something you’re subjected to as a student, is something I could scarcely imagine going without, even for a day or two. And without coffee, I don’t think I’d be as good of a writer, and certainly not as active of one.

I suppose this makes me sound like something of an addict, and maybe there’s a reason for that. If I need coffee to do the basic things I like to do, perhaps I need coffee too much. A lot of people might say that, but I wouldn’t. There are a lot of things everyone needs: Food, water, air, clothes, etc. But the basics are just that, the basics, and probably aren’t sufficient for most people. Sure, everyone needs those things, at least, but most people are going to want, or need, more. For me, that’s cardio, writing, and coffee. They seem distant things, unrelated, but they aren’t to me. They are integral parts of my day, the summation of which equals my collected experience. This is not a good or bad thing, objectively, but I think it’s a good thing, because I’m pretty happy with my life as it is.

Without coffee, I don’t think I’d have this life. It sounds impossible, or if true, perhaps a bit sad. But I don’t mean to say that my palate is so stimulated by the drink so as to make my life worth living. I mean a whole lot of things besides that, though the pleasures of tasting a good cup are not excluded. I mean that I enjoy the morning ritual, delight in leaving even a comfortably warm bed on a cold morning in order to sip a warmer cup of coffee and gulp down my oatmeal. And I like the fitness and writing I’m able to do, I think, at least in part because of the coffee. I certainly couldn’t do either of them as well without it, however well it is that I do them.

I think what I owe to coffee has more to do with my time as a barista than anything else. This is a subject I’ve written about a lot before, but it deserves mention again. There was a time when I was an introvert, happier alone with a book or a video game than with any but a select few people. That hasn’t changed totally. I can still spend an entire day with no more human interaction than what I get from an author, and consider that mostly a day well spent. But it’s not how I would rather spend my time now; at least, it’s not how I like to spend most of it. Thanks to my time behind a coffee bar, I’ve developed an extroverted streak, or at least nurtured the one I already had. It’s grown, to the point where I’ve developed a reputation as something like perky, and certainly loud and ostentatious. I don’t view this as a change in persona, so much as a realization. I was always who I am now, it just had to be chiseled out from under a bit of rock first. It took some work, as things sometimes do. But it was worth doing. And without coffee, and the making of it, I never would have started that task.

I’ll land at another coffee bar soon, and I’ll keep drinking the stuff in the meantime; I’ll keep writing and running too. I’ll keep looking for ideas at the bottom of mugs, empty except for that omnipresent stain. I’ll find them, and inspiration too. If the past is any indication, I’ll probably find out more about myself as well.

Centenial

This is my 100th post. I do not feel that I ought to engage in any self congratulation, since posting here takes nothing more than my own willingness to make it happen. But if I'm not feeling self congratulatory, I am feeling a bit reflective. That is, I've written 100 posts on this site. But what exactly have I written about?

That's an interesting question, and one I don't think I can answer well. When this blog started, it was meant to be little more than a catalog of my coffee experiences. I would taste a new brew, and then post my thoughts on it. Perhaps I would visit a new cafe, or explore a new means of preparations. In any case, it would be those day to day things with which I would concern myself.

But whatever my intent, this blog has been something other than a catalog of experiences. Frankly, it has been more a repository of thoughts, of ideas more esoteric than practical. I briefly entertained the idea that I might go back over everything I've written, and try and note some recurring themes -- perhaps even find a consistent message.

But doing so, I think, would be wrong in some way, if the goal is to find repeated motifs. I am the man writing this blog, after all; if I don't know what I'm talking about, then that might say bad things about my writing, cognitive abilities, or both.

Thus, 100 posts in, I present to you a completely arbitrary list of things I think are worthwhile enough to earn a spot on a meaningless list.
1) Coffee tastes good, varied, and complex.
2) Mind the minutia. Grind size matters. So does dose. Little things make big differences on the palate.
3) Coffee matters. It is a beverage that is used the world over for innumerable human interactions.
4) The social aspect of the cafe is most important of all.
5) Drink quality matters a lot, too.
6) Coffee is healthy. So is milk fat.

I'll stop the list at six, because I can't think of anything else that ought to be mentioned. Like I said, this is totally arbitrary. I'll be back to writing something worthwhile shortly, rather than waxing poetic on my own work. There are two new studies, just published, which are related to #6. Maybe I should write less about the nutritional aspects of dairy. Oh well.