A hot beverage -- Coffee: Part 1 (The Failure)
Recently on Chowhound, someone made a post decrying the lack of good drip coffee in Los Angeles. He had his epiphany at Blue Bottle in San Francisco, and took those memories back to LA where he found the coffee lackluster.
It reminded me of when I used to read about coffee. I knew about the difference between Arabica and Robusta, or a city roast and a French roast. I followed the production process, from farming to drying, to selling at a coffee market, to the final roasting process. I knew about the regional differences, from a full-bodied Sumatra to the smooth, almost fruity acidity of a Kenya, to the mild and clean Kona coffees.
There was only one problem.
I never tried any of them. It just so happened that the coffee books were next to the tea books during a summer vacation where I would just plow through books at the library.
Something I didn't have.
The extent of my coffee experience had been the occasional cup fully doused in cream and sugar. I then progressed to the cappuccinos at Denny's. And then, finally, on a trip to NorCal with Bryant while I was pouring in my 5th creamer and 4th sugar, he remarked, "You should probably drink it black to appreciate the actual coffee." From then on, although I rarely drank coffee, I always drank it black, getting the occasional blend at Peet's or Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf whenever my friends wanted to get coffee.
So after that post I thought, I owe it to myself to actually try some damn good coffee. I found a local microroaster by the name of Cafe Klatch. Being headed by one of the Barista champions was good enough assurance that I could have fresh roasted coffee beans packed with care, and I ordered their Kenyan AA, the highest grade of Kenyan coffee. I bought myself an electric kettle to heat up boiling water efficiently and easily, and tried in vain to secure a single cup coffee manual drip but I couldn't find one despite visiting all the major household stores and coffee vendors in my area. I'd have to improvise... which would end up being a terrible idea.
Taking notes from this helpful video, I set off to work to prepare my coffee that I had received as soon as I got home.
I stuck a heaping tablespoon of the coffee beans into my blade grinder and grinded away, pulsing as I went, taking in the aroma of the freshly ground beans. For my brewing device, I removed the coffee funnel from my automatic drip machine and stuck it over my mug.
I followed the steps, presoaking the filter. Only there was a problem when I got to the presoaked coffee stage, and later, the drip stage. Maybe you can tell by this picture.
The funnel was clearly too big for just one cup of coffee. The water dripped through in a mere 30 seconds. I took my coffee, expecting a grand transcendent experience... and all I got was brown-colored water. Where were my wine-like notes, my acidity... anything?! I stared at my brewing vessel, having only myself to blame.
It's like if you pooped in a toilet and kept the color and none of the flavor.
And so ends my first day of gourmet coffee--in straight failure.
It reminded me of when I used to read about coffee. I knew about the difference between Arabica and Robusta, or a city roast and a French roast. I followed the production process, from farming to drying, to selling at a coffee market, to the final roasting process. I knew about the regional differences, from a full-bodied Sumatra to the smooth, almost fruity acidity of a Kenya, to the mild and clean Kona coffees.
There was only one problem.
I never tried any of them. It just so happened that the coffee books were next to the tea books during a summer vacation where I would just plow through books at the library.
Something I didn't have.
The extent of my coffee experience had been the occasional cup fully doused in cream and sugar. I then progressed to the cappuccinos at Denny's. And then, finally, on a trip to NorCal with Bryant while I was pouring in my 5th creamer and 4th sugar, he remarked, "You should probably drink it black to appreciate the actual coffee." From then on, although I rarely drank coffee, I always drank it black, getting the occasional blend at Peet's or Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf whenever my friends wanted to get coffee.
So after that post I thought, I owe it to myself to actually try some damn good coffee. I found a local microroaster by the name of Cafe Klatch. Being headed by one of the Barista champions was good enough assurance that I could have fresh roasted coffee beans packed with care, and I ordered their Kenyan AA, the highest grade of Kenyan coffee. I bought myself an electric kettle to heat up boiling water efficiently and easily, and tried in vain to secure a single cup coffee manual drip but I couldn't find one despite visiting all the major household stores and coffee vendors in my area. I'd have to improvise... which would end up being a terrible idea.
Taking notes from this helpful video, I set off to work to prepare my coffee that I had received as soon as I got home.
I stuck a heaping tablespoon of the coffee beans into my blade grinder and grinded away, pulsing as I went, taking in the aroma of the freshly ground beans. For my brewing device, I removed the coffee funnel from my automatic drip machine and stuck it over my mug.
I followed the steps, presoaking the filter. Only there was a problem when I got to the presoaked coffee stage, and later, the drip stage. Maybe you can tell by this picture.
The funnel was clearly too big for just one cup of coffee. The water dripped through in a mere 30 seconds. I took my coffee, expecting a grand transcendent experience... and all I got was brown-colored water. Where were my wine-like notes, my acidity... anything?! I stared at my brewing vessel, having only myself to blame.
It's like if you pooped in a toilet and kept the color and none of the flavor.
And so ends my first day of gourmet coffee--in straight failure.