First storage, now cleanliness? I guess I'm getting a little domestic on y'all.
Coffee machine cleanliness is super important and, sadly, all too easily overlooked in both the café and the kitchen. The coffee oils that become your French press' ring around the collar are incredibly tenacious little suckers -- think of them as the caffeinated cousins to the crust in a skillet after cooking with oil. If left there, they can turn rancid (yuck!) and infiltrate every cup you make.
But don't pop open that vinegar bottle yet, friends: Vinegar's strong flavor and scent can overpower coffee by lingering if you don't rinse and rinse (and rinse and rinse). Not only that, but it probably won't banish all that stubborn residue on its own.
Let's face it: The world ain't ideal, and situations get hairy sometimes. I've been reduced to substituting paper towels for coffee filters before, so maybe you've had to keep your coffee beans in the freezer because your kitchen's the size of a walnut shell. You'll get no judgments from me, but I am here to help, and part of that means breaking (or reiterating) the news that coffee is best stored away from your icy asparagus tips.
Most high-quality retail coffee -- like the bag in the picture above, though it's living in the wrong place -- is packaged specifically to keep beans fresh, with the addition of a one-way valve that lets the coffee release necessary gases after being roasted but does not let air in to stale the java. Because it's bagged fresh and can be resealed properly, you should be able to simply keep whole-bean coffee in its bag or an air-tight container in a cool, dry place -- but definitely, definitely not the refrigerator.
It's practically impossible for me to decide what I like best about this video: The fact that it features both clothcoffeefilters (sustainable!) and a handcoffeegrinder (retro!), that the robot appears to let the coffee bloom before starting the proper brew, our little friend's deadpan expression, or the two-second outtake where the poor gal pours coffee all over the counter before a set of friendly human hands sets it right.
Actually, this little automated lady looks like she seriously knows what she's doing -- storing coffee in an air-tight container, grinding fresh, making coffee to order... She's a barista-bot after my own heart -- even if she's more likely to rust than over-caffeinate.
Early in our relationship, whenever I told my husband I was headed to a cupping, he (a coffee lover but not a fanatic like me) would imagine something, er, otherwise-related. Now that he knows cupping as a coffee-tasting ritual he might be disappointed -- or relieved -- but at least he understands why I'm a bit jittery when I come home from one.
The cupping process traces back to the 19th century, when beans were graded basically on a "yes" or "no" scale: Too many defects (like disease or mold) earned an ix-nay, while just about everything else was considered acceptable.
Today, cupping serves several different purposes: At the coffee's point of origin it allows farmers, importers, brokers and roasters to test the quality of a crop; after roasting, the roasters themselves will cup coffees for consistency, flavor profile and to detect the effects of aging; and at the consumer level, coffee cuppings are the rough (and fun!) equivalent of wine tastings, and are becoming widelyavailabletothepublic.
Baristas are getting increasingly used to people describing their morning fix as "too pretty to drink," and not only because it's their first caffeine of the day. Latte art, a particular way a barista will "fold" steamed milk into espresso to create a heart or a leaf-like design called a rosetta on a drink, has been mesmerizing café goers (and even the baristas themselves) for years, but it's still seemingly a work of magic to most.
Well, I don't want to burst any (milk) bubbles, but latte art isn't magic,it's skill -- well, skill and a little abracadabra. The former because it can take months or even years to master the intuitive art of marrying two liquids, and the latter because a great latte artist can disguise not-great coffee under a stylish surface.
Oh, Chemex, you're gorgeous! Those curves, those exquisite lines, the alluring reflection from your gleaming, glassy surface. All that and you make fantastic coffee? Seriously.
Brewing in one of these babies is the kind of treat that's made for late Saturday mornings and idly flipping through the New Yorker ... for the cartoons. It's the Nat King Cole of coffee-brewing equipment: mellow and sophisticated, but with a sly wink. (Plus, the inventor was the kind of guy you almost wouldn't mind losing to at poker. Almost.)
In order to achieve a batch of the super clean and flavorful brew this pot can create, I like to use about 30 grams (or 5 tablespoons) of fresh ground coffee (medium-fine) for 16 ounces of just-off-the-boil water (as always, adjust to your taste). (These instructions can also be followed for otherpour-overbrewers, but I've got a crush on ol' Chem.)
Since Isiticedcoffeeweather.com has finally (finally!) started answering in the affirmative, I think it's time you and I get chilly up in here. Of the numerous ways to make delicious iced coffee, my favorite is the popular Japanese style introduced to me by my colleagues and widely praised among its devotees: It's easy, adaptable and instantly gratifying -- like a beachside hot dog.
There are several different tools you can use to whip up a batch of summer's precious caffeinated lifeblood, depending on how much iced joe you require: a large Chemex will do the trick for the recipe below, but a conecoffeedripper positioned over a pitcher or cup (as at right) is perfect for smaller outputs.
Erin Meister trains baristas for North Carolina-based Counter Culture Coffee and sporadically maintains the blog Meet the Press Pot from her home in New York City. This is the second in a series of tips for the caffeine-addicted.
Maybe things got rolling a little fast with my last post about making the perfect cup of French press coffee. So let's back up a sec.
Some readers had pretty visceral reactions to my suggestion that they ditch the ol' whirly grinder in order to make a tastier mug of French press joe, and I understand: Blade grinders are cheap, burr grinders can be expensive! But not alldecentburrgrinders will chop your wallet as well as they chop your beans, and your cup quality should skyrocket as a result. Learn why and see a ridiculous video of me after the jump.
Erin Meister, aka the CoffeeMeister, trains baristas for North Carolina-based Counter Culture Coffee and sporadically maintains the blog Meet the Press Pot from her home in New York City. This is the first in a series of tips for the caffeine-addicted.
Mon chérie, let us speak together of the French press.
The press can be a tricky mechanism for the average user to master, especially if she is fumbling with it before consuming even a drop of caffeine. Used correctly, presses make fantastic coffee taste exceptional. Plunging willy-nilly, however, will make that same coffee taste exceptionally crappy.
First of all, I don't mean to get all tough love on you before we really get to know each other, but that little whirly-blade grinder you use isn't going to work out. It's the "best friend" you call despite knowing you don't have anything in common anymore. It's bringing you down, and it's time to meet somebody new.
As we've noted, it's iced coffee time, folks. While we can all agree that the best version is that which is freshly brewed, sometimes you've got to make do with what can be grabbed out of the convenience store fridge. Starbucks' Frappuccino is a perennial favorite, and we're fans of their Doubleshot Energy Drink (especially the new Cinnamon Dulce flavor) when caffeine alone isn't quite enough.
Behold, however, a challenge to Starbucks supremacy from Pom Iced Coffee. Far from an unpleasant mix of joe and pomegranate juice (though it does feature a touch of the antioxidant-laced fruit extract), this is one smooth-blended iced coffee drink. The cafe au lait version is delightful, but it is the chocolate that may soon boast the title of best bottled iced coffee, with an addiction-inspiring taste reminiscent of a blend of Yoo-Hoo and chocolate Nestle Quik.
The only problem with this cooling nectar? It's only available at select stores and Whole Foods in the Northeast (though bottles have been spied at 99-cent stores on the west coast). If anything were to make a convenience store crawl or a trip to a pricey specialty grocer worth it, it is Pom Chocolate Iced Coffee. So stock up.
Note:Slashfood does not accept compensation of any sort in exchange for reviews.
If anything says "good day, sunshine," it's this cup of coffee. How could you not want to wake up to something like this?
This is what the softer side of caffeine dependency looks like. It's hope and promise and love in a mug, perfectly brewed -- you can almost smell how good it is. And while foam art is too often both cloyingly cute and a sign of obsessive compulsion, this lovely little heart melts our own.
It's the design of Lara Ferroni, the food and photography maven behind Cook & Eat, and we love how she contrasts the white of the foam with the dark orange of the mug. It's coffee as still life, though we hope Ferroni didn't have to sacrifice her morning brew for her art. Because as good as this looks, we're going out on a limb and guessing that it tasted even better.
In our search for the perfect cheapcoffee -- being devoted caffeine freaks, we also cover it here -- Slashfood decided to give Café Caribe a shot. Look at that muy tropical can; who wouldn't?
The brand indulges in similar identity politics to its competitor (and current frontrunner) Café Bustelo. The label is printed in both English and Spanish and proudly proclaims "Café Para El Gusto Latino: NUESTRO CAFE," or "Coffee for the Latin taste. OUR COFFEE." In the Bronx (the New York City borough this writer is proud to call home) Dominicans and Puerto Ricans take a lot of pride in their coffee, so we can see why Café Caribe is taking such a direct marketing approach.
Beyond that, Café Caribe is also among the cheapest coffees in the store. At $2.59, it's a dollar less than Bustelo and about one third of the price of Medaglia D'Oro.
The biggest draw, though, was the can. With bright colors, cartoonish writing and a cute little drawing of a hacienda amid palm trees, it is incredibly cheering. Over the last few weeks we've had a lot of gray days and the explosive yellow can has provided a lingering gleam of sunshine.
A sip of this deliciously creamy and smooth cup of coffee is sure to please even those non-coffee drinkers. Similar to the French cafe au lait and the Italian cappuccino, the Viennese melange is a combination of coffee with steamed milk and foam. Unlike cappuccino, this "Wiener Melange" is made with milder coffee and is traditionally served with a glass of water. The accompaniment of water allows the coffee to go down more easily without dehydration.
The experience of sitting in a plush Viennese café with a cup of Viennese coffee, a glass of water and a newspaper seems to awaken the intellect within you. It conjures up images of the Austrian intelligentsia in the early 20th century with characters like Egon Schiele and Gustav Klimt.
While in Vienna, I visited several Viennese cafés, such as the famous Café Central, and tried several variations on this deep rich coffee. My favorite, Franziskaner, also called an "espresso con panna," is served with whipped cream instead of foam. I also tasted rich delicious café mocha served with whipped cream. The Viennese café culture dates as far back as the late 17th century.
The influence of the melange on American coffee can be seen in Starbucks and several smaller coffeeshops. One of the best places to try the classic melange is Café Sabarsky located on the first floor of the Neue Galerie in Manhattan.
One of the most delightful and plentiful coffee bean regions is Ethiopia, offering "percs" that include Yirgacheffe, Sidamo, Harrar and Limu. As a home coffee roaster, one of my greatest delights is pulling out some Harrar, letting the roasting smells infiltrate my apartment, and then partake in its smooth, rich and reliable flavor. And if you think it's just coffee snobbery, a report once stated that Harrar was "the single most requested coffee from our customers and partners" at Starbucks.
But the whole rich and diverse world of Ethiopian coffee might be in danger.
As The New York Times reports, the Ethiopian government has suspended the licenses of the largest coffee exporters, meaning that for the time being, no coffee is leaving Ethiopia. But there's a little more to it. See, the government thinks that exporters are keeping coffee off the market to get the prices to rise. So, to make sure all beans get an adequate price, the government mandated that growers sell their crops through the Ethiopian Commodity Exchange.
While great in theory, it has one big flaw -- roasters outside of Ethiopia wouldn't be able to buy beans from a specific, beloved farmer. The prevalent fear: This means the end of location-specific Ethiopian purchases -- so buying Yirgacheffe coffee wouldn't be the bean we've come to know, but rather a sort of all-round brand.
The ordeal is still playing out, but popular stores like The Green Beanery are already selling out some Ethiopian brands, so if you have a deep love for a specific, tasty region, you might want to to pick up some extra.
As I previously mentioned, I am in the process of trying to determine the best inexpensive, pre-ground, mass-produced coffee on the market. A few weeks ago, when I reviewed Cafe Bustelo, my post generated a fair bit of commentary, from both Bustelo's supporters and its detractors. As ever, the incredibly generous Slashfood community was quick to weigh in with its suggestions for the best bargain-priced coffee on the market. While I might not get to all the brands that my readers proposed, I'm definitely going to give it a try.
I should point out, in the interests of total disclosure, that I am not a true beanhead. To begin with, I take my morning brew with milk and sugar, which counts as a major faux pas among the coffee cognoscenti. Additionally, while my palate is pretty solid, I am not one of those people who sips a cup of coffee, makes a pinched face and notes that "Fernando wasn't wearing his shoes when he mashed these ones." I don't detect notes of sunshine in my morning joe, and I'm not inclined to get effusive about the rich, rounded tones and terroir of this or that organic Hawaiian blend.
Then again, those people don't drink preground drip coffee. Let's face it, the quest for the best cheap coffee is the kind of thing that self-selects for a guy who is willing to put price on a par with flavor. That having been said, I can tell a good cup of coffee from a bad one, and I am willing to drink a lot of bad coffee in my quest for the ultimate morning brew.
We can change the way we make eggs -- scrambled, poached, fried -- but what about changing the eggs themselves? Mix up your scrambling routine with quail eggs.