The Internet is hardly known as a medium for civil discussion and debate. There are exceptions, of course, but today only the Internet historians will remember when flame wars and childish insults may have briefly raised eyebrows before they became too commonplace to notice anymore. What still raises eyebrows is when there actually is civil discourse online — and especially when it is abruptly shut down and censored.Last week we exhumed the old why-is-restaurant-coffee-so-bad yarn, invoking recent social media gossip about high-end restaurants that either raised the Nespresso white flag or developed serious coffee program, such as Copenhagen’s infamous Noma — the running #1 ranked restaurant in the world. Then earlier this week, a famous coffee blog we enjoy — Dear Coffee, I Love You — posted a review of their recent meal and coffee service at Noma: Coffee at Noma, The World’s Best Restaurant « Dear Coffee, I Love You. | A Coffee Blog for Caffeinated Inspiration..
My reaction to the post split in two opposite directions. First, on the positive side, I always appreciate a good story of where someone is proving that you can make decent coffee at a restaurant. But on the negative side, I couldn’t get over the fact that here was the #1 ranked restaurant in the world that was essentially reinventing flavors and food, and yet the most thoughtful coffee service they could come up with is serving manual pour-over coffee from a Hario V60. Something you could quite readily do at home yourself, no imagination nor creativity required.So I commented on the post, using one of my throwaway Facebook accounts that so many lame Web sites require to comment these days. (As socially loaded as it is these days to say, “I don’t own a TV”, I prefer the more modern variant, “I don’t have a legitimate Facebook account.”) In my comments, I noted how Noma’s rather pedestrian pour-over service was a bit of a let down — given everything else for which the place is known.
Sir Brian W. Jones (posting on Facebook as DCILY) and a certain Devon Nullz (a Facebook-allowed variant of /dev/null) held a brief, but civil, exchange in Facebook comments. But just before I was able to respond to Mr. Jones’ last reply, something very odd happened: all the Facebook-hosted comments on the post disappeared. Not just my and/or his comments, all the Facebook comments on the post.
Yes, the nuclear option.
Fortunately, through the magic of Google caching, I’ve exhumed the discussion here because it is blog-topic-worthy. Bonus for the chance to perhaps continue to discussion … since Dear Coffee, I Love You pretty much abruptly announced last call at 9pm and threw everyone out of the bar.
The Noma Coffee Service Discussion That’s Too Hot For DCILY
This article kind of made me sad. As if high cuisine has fallen for the pour-over coffee fad rather than trying to chart its own course.
Wednesday at 7:24pm
The Melitta pour over cone is 105 years old. The Chemex is 72 years old. How exactly is pour over a fad?
Yesterday at 2:42pm
Consumption and popular culture create fads, not the inventions themselves. The caffè sospeso has been around for generations in Southern Italy, but it’s a complete fad right now. GPS has been around since the 1970s, but today we have TV shows and blogs branding themselves with “GPS” in the name as if it were futuristic alien technology that just fell from the skies last year.
Now we know we’re talking about how low the bar is set for coffee among all great restaurants. But this is a restaurant that’s making bite-explosions of flavor with fried reindeer moss, fermented crickets, etc. Normal conceptions of food have been turned inside-out, cryogenically transformed, and re-presented as something totally new.
So when the coffee service comes, what do they offer to live up to those heights? What amazing boundaries of the culinary world do they bend to the point of breaking? We get a V60 pour-over that every wannabe third wave coffee shop has been pumping on every street corner in every coffee-aware city in the world for the past several years. Something you can essentially make yourself at home with a scale and a blog post.
Pour-over coffee in a V60 is the culinary equivalent of East-meets-West fusion cuisine from a food truck. If coffee service has to live up to the new frontiers promised by a $260/head dinner, food truck cuisine isn’t how to do that.
Yesterday at 5:23pm
You’re right, for $420 a head, I should get a space age über-technologically advanced Nespresso capsule instead. They also pour wine from bottles—how boring of them.
7 hours ago
And then it ended. Poof.
Of course, the Internet is all about the conversation that refuses to die…
To Mr. Jones’ credit, perhaps he quickly realized he was dealing with a complete nut job (on the Internet? Really?!) and thus he didn’t want to continue to the discussion any further. I can’t say that I blame him. But in doing so, a legitimate point has been completely whitewashed and dismissed: we readily give restaurants a pass for their coffee when it doesn’t live up to the standards set by their food. The #1 restaurant in the world serving pour-over V60 coffee might not be as bad as Nespresso, but it is still a culinary cop-out.
And when it comes to pouring wine from bottles, Sir Brian, might I remind you that coffee service isn’t merely the act of pulling a cork. Brewing coffee quite literally is cooking.
And there’s a deliberate reason why Noma’s wine list is curated for rare and special occasion wines — and not just what can be found on the shelves of any Bilka hypermarket in Denmark. Compared to a V60 pour-over, ironically a Clover brewer suddenly seems exotic again by today’s standards. Is it too much to ask to at least syphon brew for something just a little out of the ordinary?
Now we’re not saying that Korean tacos aren’t quite tasty, because they are. But they’re really not that special. (Well, at least here in California.)
Given the more recent comment update history on this post, and this piece today from Sprudge, this topic is worthy of an update. Noma is currently experimenting with espresso service — which they’ve held off doing to date for all the right reasons. Furthermore, their coffee service has had a little time to mature “in the wild.” But one of the good things the aforementioned article surfaces is this talk from last year’s Nordic Barista Cup, recorded about five months after we published this original post.
The title of the presentation, “Milk and Sugar, Please!,” refers to a lesson René and his team have learned about serving highly specialized coffee to restaurant patrons with the highest expectations. They first tried the coffee Nazi route: serving it without cream or sugar and suggesting that it is best without them. Patrons revolted — perhaps out of habit, but perhaps also out of a sense of control in this I-apply-filters-to-someone-else’s-photos-on-Instagram-therefore-I’m-an-artist world we now live in. René discovered that by standing down and placing the cream and sugar at the table for just comfort alone, customers happily consumed their coffee without additives and without resistance.
The presentation opens with René saying that Noma’s head sommelier, Mads Kleppe, is the guy to give the presentation as his dedicated man to coffee — much as Noma has staff dedicated to things like berries, foraging, and moss. (This affirms what we suggested in another post.) And yet René went on for the next 47 minutes unequivocally monopolizing the microphone, spouting out the word “fuck” about every 30 seconds along the way.
The claim is that the coffee is as good as at Tim Wendelboe’s — and arguably the best restaurant coffee you can get in the world. Or at least that’s the aim. To back that claim up, René notes that preparation took eight months, 40 staff, precise bean choices, custom equipment and installation, and a repeated claim to spending tens of thousands of dollars.
Not having actually had the coffee, we can’t comment on its quality. But there’s no reason to think it isn’t great. What we still don’t understand is why some of the best coffee bars in the world do not require eight months, 40 staff, and five flights in from Tim Wendelboe to establish a stellar pour-over brewing service. It makes us wonder: just where is all that time, money, and labor going?
Despite perhaps the supposed uniqueness of new Nordic brewing to light-bodied, lightly roasted pedigree coffees for some less-traveled patrons, it’s still just a V60 pour-over bar. At that, the coffee is not exactly served to personal order: it is brewed in one-liter batches in kettles from a back room public lounge, served in custom-designed 500ml glass containers. For all the creativity and uniqueness that patrons come to expect from Chef Redzepi’s stellar food, the most inventive part of their coffee service should not be the serviceware.
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