The Cup of Excellence: The Oscars of the Coffee World
Posted by TheShot on 15 Feb 2011 | Tagged as: Beans, Quality Issues
Ecco Caffè founder and fellow South Side Chicago homie, Andrew Barnett, posted a little background about the Cup of Excellence program on SFGate yesterday: Inside Scoop SF » The Cup of Excellence: The Oscars of the Coffee World.
Thankfully he compared CoE to the Oscars and not the Grammys — the latter of which have been, hands-down, the least credible and least relevant artist awards going. (As evidenced by the many album-of-the-year winners named at least a decade after the artist is either over the hill or dead, plus occasional jems like naming Jethro Tull “best heavy metal band”.)
As one reader pointed out to us over email, there is some irony in that George Howell — someone whom many in the industry look down upon as a sort of “second wave” coffee dinosaur — is at the roots of the modern single-origin coffee explosion.
10 Comments »
Wow – I’ve never heard George described as anything but a living legend…
I agree with Mike — I’m not sure where you got the idea that GH is anything but revered and admired.
What? And allow Slayer to claim a monopoly on bombast?!
Yep. Mike & Anon are right. You’ve built yourself a nice straw-man there.
That last paragraph is nonsense.
Yo, Zac! How’s it be?
But we gotta ask: what gives? Futures contracts on senses of humor break 14-year highs over at Sprudge? Hyperbole die a gruesome death after the Sweat-pants-and-Starbucks incident?
And when did you guys decide to go from being coffee’s Tiger Beat to its National Review anyway? We can only imagine how much Shoffee must be riding you guys like a Mexican donkey show with K-cups for tassles.
Or are you just slumming it here because you’re as tired as we are of the recycled 1970s coffee advert YouTube videos you’ve been pushing lately? Can’t say that we blame you.
Be sure to say “hi” to the missus and the other sprudgesicles.
You lost me.
I’M NOT A MISSUS, I’M A MAN
…and your thinly veiled homophobic quip doesn’t help you out much.
Like yer spilling secrets there that, say, male bikini barista plans didn’t already betray? Hence we used “missus” vs. Mrs., though we really don’t need to know who has the family pants fetish.
What does that even mean? “Family pants fetish”? Are you kidding me?