In which our blogger gets oddly riled up about nothing important

Look, you guys -- I'm not a coffee snob. I'm really not. I figure if I can enjoy a burger from Sonic as much as I enjoy a burger from Shake Shack, or a Bud Light on game day as much as a craft beer at a brew house with good friends, then there's no reason I can't admit to occasionally savoring a road-trip coffee from Dunkin' Donuts as much as a handcrafted, manual-brew microlot coffee at an incredible coffee shop. And that's really how I feel.

But really? Isn't this going just a bit too far?



To add insult to injury ("injury" in this case being that this is an artificial ingredient designed to simulate a drink that has done nothing but drive the average consumer that much farther afield from truly good coffee), the website for this stuff includes a recipe that calls for 1 tbs of chocolate syrup in addition to the 1/4 cup of Caramel Macchiato creamer. AND SPRINKLES.

That isn't coffee -- it's a 6-year-old's birthday party.

Why do I care about this? I don't actually know: I'm usually pretty live-and-let-live (or "Live and Let Die") about all things food and drink related, and this is such a silly thing to get in a bunch about. So what's up with the sudden ire, Meister?

Should I calm down and let flavored creamers lie? What do you think?

Is there an Ecco in here?

I know this has already been announced by more fun, more compelling and more regularly updated sources, but I'd like to also pipe up and say that my alma mater, Joe, has made a big change today.

Not a big change like, "Whoops that balloon thing was a hoax," a big change like, "Whoopee, new coffee!"



There hasn't been much of an opportunity to experience Ecco's beautiful coffees in New York City until now, and I highly recommend you jump at the chance to raise your demitasse today and celebrate the new partnership. I know I plan on getting cup after cup of it all day until I'm full to my eyeballs with caffeinated goodness. Maybe I'll see you there!

Nature, nurture, bartending school?

(Photo of Ed Kaufmann from two years ago—wowza!)

This interesting-slash–maybe kind of sad piece about whether or not bartending school is a waste of time, from today's Serious Eats, got me to thinking about my own job, and about people all over who do similar work in coffee (not because I think it's a waste of time, though—just keep reading).

How is a really good barista made? Can someone truly be taught to be good at this? What makes a good barista good?

It's a blessing and a curse to have the opportunity to think about these things all the time, not only when dealing with brand-new baristas but also when dealing with brand-new or prospective café owners. How do you take someone's (sometimes cursory) interest in coffee and help them mold it into a genuine dedication to a craft and a culinary art? I always tell employers to hire on personality and teach the rest, but is that really true?

These thoughts were compounded by the fact that today one of my trainees turned to me after I pulled a shot and asked, "Has anyone you've ever trained become as good as you are?"

At first, I didn't know how to answer—partially because I know it was likely just a little bit of teacher worship, partially because I am very shy, and partially because I was almost afraid of what my response might be. But after I thought about it for an awkward 20 seconds, I finally said, "I wasn't trained to be this good, per se; but I have been and am currently being trained very well and I wanted to learn even more, so I do everything in my power to accomplish that, all the time. I can probably teach you more than you know right now, but I can't necessarily teach you to want to learn and do more. And that's what makes somebody really good at this."

I think that's the G-d's truth. I want the baristas I work with to come away from our time with a more specific and more in-depth understanding of what they're doing. I want them to walk out of the training center knowing how to taste coffee, and how tiny pre-extraction details affect the finished cup. I can teach somebody how to do this, strictly speaking, but I can't teach someone how to feel the coffee in their bones, and that's the heart of the matter (to quote the poet Don Henley).

It's true that nothing shows you to work quickly and efficiently behind a bar better than simply working quickly and efficiently behind a bar—or, better yet, working slowly and inefficiently and realizing over time (and hopefully with some guidance) what needs to be improved on and how.

In this sense, I believe in working in real bar environments as often as possible if you're going to train people to be in coffee, because I think it makes one a better barista, which in turn makes one a better teacher (perhaps I got this idea from my alma mater?). Actually occasionally working at a busy café puts you on the same level as the folks you're responsible for training; it lets you speak their body language a little more and, and lets them feel like you're in the trenches alongside them; it lets you explain the real-time trials and tribulations they'll face (e.g. burning the same hand about a hundred times in a row, like I always do as soon as I step back behind an espresso machine for service for the first time in a while).

One important part of this is having humility—especially on the teacher's part. If a teacher can't realize that theirs isn't the only way to do something he or she is doing everybody a disservice. But the teacher can only teach; they can't force the student to look outside that box.

Do I think that the classroom environment is inappropriate for training? Heck no!(!!!!) I see the lessons and the education I have the chance to provide in the CCC NYC training center every day as an incredibly valuable part of the professional relationship I have with all my customers, and I see baristas who go through our programs get better and better every day because of it. But I also think there's no replacement for being challenged in an environment that comes with a little pressure, and for being forced to keep an open mind and realize that this is an adaptable and practical craft as much as an artistic and culinary one—that the classroom is one thing and the floor is quite another, but quality is quality and good taste is good taste no matter what the situation.

The element of pressure is absolutely pivotal for advancement, and that's what seems to be lacking in something like bartending school. That and, apparently, fresh lime juice.



But does it taste good??

PDXcellent

Normally, when one of a person's best friends plans a wedding clear across the country, one's mind doesn't entertain notions of doing work-related travel during the trip to the ceremony. But when one's a coffee person and the wedding is in the Portland area--where one's never been!--you know what's going to happen.


Croissant and Americano at Stumptown in the Ace Hotel

Actually, I have to admit that my better half and I didn't make it to all that many coffee places during this trip, partially because we were on a tight time budget, and partially because come on, you gotta work with it when your husband is more interested in finding high-waisted 1940s trousers than analysing the aroma and mouthfeel of a masterfully crafted coffee. Not that he can't appreciate a masterfully crafted coffee, but marriage is a compromise!

(And I really had to compromise when I found like four stunning vintage dresses, a great cookbook and a 1960s airline carry-on bag during our shopping trips. Woe is me.)


Billy Wilson makes a vac pot of 49th Parallel's Wondo Worka for us at Barista

The best part of the coffee leg of our Portland trip was the chance to meet a whole new set of professionals in a whole new environment. It's not that I'm tired of the New York coffee scene, because I love the Big Apple and I love its Big Coffee Geeks. I love walking into any great cafe in town and running into no fewer than three industry colleagues there, just ready to catch up over a macchiato. But I love new people and new perspectives. I love new perspectives.

I always feel tremendously nervous walking into a coffee shop I've never been in before. Always. I'm a pretty naturally nervous person as it is (obviously), and I get even more nervous when I'm able to put myself in the shoes of whomever I'm dealing with. Having dealt with the occasional frustrating customer myself (I mean, let's call a spade a spade here), I have a totally irrepressible fear of becoming that person when I go someplace for a coffee. And then because I'm so nervous, I inevitably do something stupid or order something wrong or act so polite as to almost be unnervingly cloying. This compounded by the fact that the chances are pretty good that I know the barista I'm dealing with in New York City and would be mortified to do something ridiculous in front of them makes me even worse. EVEN WORSE!

In Portland, though, I knew almost nobody. I could go into a coffee shop and act stupid and nobody would even know the difference. G-d, that is so refreshing for the nervous! Add that to the fact that the coffee was great and man, you've got yourself a real treat, Meister.

So we had a great time in a great city. The vintage shopping was exceptional, the food was awesome, and the coffee we've already discussed. The drive up the coast to the ceremony location was winding and rocky and lush green, on long quiet roads bordered by roadside fruit stands.

But all that considered, I still have to say that the best part of the trip was seeing these two amazing people hold each other's hands and say "I do."


The perfect first dance

A new crop of blog posts… elsewhere

There's been a lot of blogging going on lately, but sadly, none of it has been here. Hopefully that will change before too long.

In the meantime, tell me what you're drinking these days!

I've been enjoying our own beautiful new crop Finca El Puente from the Herrera-Caballero family farm in La Paz, Honduras, and I've enjoyed a couple rounds of Intelligentsia's lovely Los Inmortales out of Santa Ana, El Salvador. Seriously, delicious.