Golden Arches; Golden Espresso?

McDonald's is big business. And more and more, it's becoming big coffee business as well. The fast food giant boasts "premium roast" coffee (an ambiguous term, at best), and espresso beverages (prepared with the push of a button). But it's not about the quality; it's about the price, and the ubiquity.

That's the assumption, at least. 

But Australia's McDonald's branch, despite doing good business, is promising to step up its game. There are the usual lines about better beans, a better blend, and renewed focus on the details. It's the sort of corporate speak you expect to hear, except for one line:

"McDonald’s will launch a richer, darker coffee blend and a national training program to train employees to be dedicated baristas."

It's the last part that took me by surprise. McDonald's did pioneer the assembly line method of restaurant cooking, and so it makes sense that if you have a fry guy, a cashier, etc., you might also have a coffee guy. 

I would really, really like to go on a tangent about how this is a disgrace to the job title, or something to that effect. But I have to confess that I don't know for sure what the job will entail. Will the Australian machines be the same, one button, one drink, affairs that American stores have? If not, will the "barista" position ever reach the States? 

For now, we'll have to wait and see.

The Comfortable Fallacy

Narratives work. They makes sense, and more importantly, they make other things make sense. They are more than a telling of events; they are a way of framing those events. We want the story understood and felt a certain way, so we tell it a certain way, cast certain characters a certain way. 

Despite that -- or perhaps because of it -- they are simple. Characters are not just cast; they are miscast, colored black or white, void of nuance. 

I was reminded of this, following game 1 of the NBA finals last night. The Miami Heat are a villainous cast, LeBron James the most damnable of the lot. Dallas is composed of aging veterans, never haves and never wills, who still just might.  

These are the stories as they are written. But they are simple -- too simple -- attempts to create drama where the game itself is somehow not enough. 

I bring this up now, because they finals are now, and thus it makes a convenient time to address the issue of perceived villainy. In the coffee world, this can only refer to Starbucks. They are the Heat, in this context, the big money monolith that does things wrong, but sits at the top nonetheless. 

This is an easy story to tell. You can hate the sameness of the lobby, the omnipresent green apron and Pike's Place roast. You can hate the tall/grande/venti sizes, and wonder why exactly a caramel machiatto is named as it is. Most of all, you can hate just how many there are, the perception that they crush competition that is trying to win "the right way".

It's an easy story to tell, and perhaps even easier to accept. But it's wrong nonetheless. Success of one entity might defeat a smaller one, might seem Goliath with no viable David. In the micro, this seems unfair, and worse, disastrous for variety. The Heat will ruin basketball; Starbucks will make bitter the coffee world. 

But perspective, a glimpse at the macro, gives a different view. The Heat will not ruin basketball, and have certainly not done so already. Quite the opposite is in fact true. The NBA regular season hadn't seen the level of interest this season generated sense Michael Jordan's prime. The postseason is must see TV, conversation fodder for even non-sports fans.

Starbucks is the same. They are the gateway drug for the non-fan. Those high school students might switch from Rockstar energy drinks to Starbucks' frappuccinos, but would never touch black coffee from a third wave roaster. First of all, they wouldn't have access. Starbucks is everywhere, and because of this, they bring coffee everywhere. They proselytize and spread the message. Most will never become zealots, will be content to go to church on holidays and leave their bible untouched on the shelf. But there will be those who adopt the creed with vigor, who seek out the small local places.

When they do, it's our job to win them over, to show them that the elite coffee we claim is in fact that good. But I don't think as many would make the journey, or would even want to, if Starbucks hadn't bade them that adolescent welcome.

Big Beans, Big Taste

There is a certain weight of expectation that comes with a sample. You assume that you are being sent something good, and that you ought to identify it as such. Failure to do so might reflect poorly on your taste, moreso than on the product itself. 

To like something is brilliant, but to want to like something is anxious business.

Thankfully, there was no need for neurosis, in this case. The Elephant Bean, called such because the bean is quite large, did not disappoint. It's quite good, in all the ways it claims to be. You can read my full thoughts here. 

It's worth noting that I drank several cups over the course of several days, and used three different methods of preparation. Thus, I think my experience is sufficient.

The Kobolds

I have to admit, I never expected to get an email from a music PR guy. But given that it concerned a coffee themed song and video performed by a band whose name may or may not be an oblique Dungeons and Dragons reference, I'm happy that I did.

Once and Future

I'm 23 years old now, and I guess I feel it, although I have to confess ignorance as to what exactly that means. I am 23, and I feel as I do, so I suppose I feel 23. That's logical, but it seems to be missing something. When people talk about feeling their age, they talk about certain aches and pains, certain feelings triggered by hormones in flux, or perhaps a now fleeting memory. That is, they talk about their age implying certain experiences. And they say that they are having those experiences; thus, they are feeling their age. 

I'm 23, and part of that, I think, is anxiety about the future. I'm supposed to be fretting about the job market, about debts to be payed off, and debts yet to be created. There will be no social security for me, no government net to catch me if I fall on hard economic times. And let's face it, that's the trajectory many of us are on. There are no jobs. The jobs there are don't pay. We are a generation with no anticipation of financial success. We will either pursue it regardless, ducking our heads under a hail of paperwork, our cubicles as trenches, or we will accept our defeat with panache, opting instead for a life of masturbatory self fulfillment. 

I think that's what it is to feel 23, to eye the swirling maelstrom, wondering how we might navigate it. No one really expects to get through it; you just want to keep your head above water for as long as possible. But if that's what 23 is supposed to be, it's not what I'm experiencing. I'm generally pleased, which is not the same as apathetic. I care about a lot of things; but caring does not require endless neurosis. 

I've got my coffee gig, and right now, I'm happy with that. I get to work with ingredients I enjoy preparing, consuming, and learning about. And I get to share them with swarms of people a day, a captive audience for my conversational indulgences. I have goals as well: to make a better drink that I ever have before and the best drink a given customer has enjoyed, to improve my latte art from passable to exemplary, and to do a more consistent job of wiping off counters. 

But you can't do that forever, people say. And they're right, most likely. But no one does anything forever. Certainly, no one sticks with the first "real" job they get right out of college forever. Things change. Life happens. Maybe I'll be a barista until I'm dead. Maybe that will be in 80 years; maybe I'll get hit by a bus tomorrow. Maybe I'll own a cafe, or work for a roasting company, or source beans, or do any number of coffee related things. Maybe this blog will blow up, and I'll have book deals and sponsorships galore (but probably not). Or maybe someday I'll decide that cubicle looks awfully comfortable, that the hail of paperwork looks more like a light spring shower. 

I don't know, and there's no way of knowing. But that shouldn't be cause for anxiety. Ignorance is bliss, after all. So yes, I'm 23. Yes, I work at a coffee bar. And yes, I'm quite happy with that.

It's My Party

Happy birthday to me. 23 years gone, and graduation in less than a week. This feels like it ought to be a time for reflection, for talking about what was and how it invariably influences what is and will be. But that also sounds like work -- more work than I feel like putting in today, in fact. Maybe when I'm older.

Soy Bomb

I was reading this the other day, and was surprised, since I had never really entertained the idea that a coffee bar might not offer soy. It's become so ubiquitous, not just in cafes, but American culture in general, that the omission of soy seems very much a noteworthy thing. And yet it's not presented as that, in this case. Rather, it's simply a matter of taste. Soy doesn't work well with coffee, so it will not be offered.

Naturally, some people were offended by that notion. And I can't imagine such a move playing well in any cafe I've ever worked.

There are those who prefer the taste, and on that subject, I can hardly say they're incorrect. There is a certain subjectivity to that sensory experience that can't be denied. And yet, even trying to be objective, I feel that there is the matter of quality, that actual milk might be tangibly superior to soy. Certainly, it's more traditional; but that alone isn't sufficient justification. So no, as much as I might like to, I don't think I can say that actual dairy tastes better than soy, with or without coffee. There just isn't a way to measure it.

That brings me to the health argument. You'll not find a more controversial food than milk -- except, perhaps, soy. Both are held up as near panaceas, perfect proteins that build muscle, burn fat, cure cancer, etc. But both are also hormone destroying killers as well, depending on who you listen to. So who's right. Well, I am. Or more accurately, the research is. Despite what the vegan armada would have you believe, lactose tolerant persons have no reason to avoid dairy. In fact, people probably should consume more of it. The protein in milk is isolated and sold as supplements, as is conjugated linoleic acid, a fatty acid found in milk. Dairy is also high in stearic acid, a saturated fat has numerous document health benefits. This is not to say that soy is nutritionally void, just that it's not the powerhouse that dairy is.

Some drink soy for reasons other than preference, however. They might be lactose intolerant, or allergic to casein or whey. In any case, they have no choice but to avoid dairy. For them, soy can be useful, insofar as it allows a passable latte experience. Of course, some would argue that said latte is not passable, and that the customers would be better off drinking black coffee. I agree with that, for myself. But again, there's no accounting for individual taste, which varies infinitely.

All of this presumes that soy's quality matters, to an extent. Perhaps it's irrelevant that soy may or may not ruin coffee, or that it may or may not spike estrogen levels (it doesn't). Maybe all that matters is that some customers are going to want it, therefore coffee bars ought to have it. Nice as that sounds, it doesn't logically follow. A customer might well like a great many things, all of which no coffee bar can accommodate. They might want a pancake flavored syrup, and we may not have that. True, if the shop down the road does, we may lose that customer. But that's the vote of the market -- the only vote that really counts in business.