illy caffè North America has operated Espressamente cafés here as in Europe, but this example is modeled more after a truer café rather than coffee bar per se. As such, Illy has designated it with a different name (“illy caffè”).
However, that hasn’t stopped many confused locals who still insist on calling it “Espressamente.” (I dare anyone to find the word “Espressamente” written anywhere inside or out of this place.) The lesson here is to be careful how you brand yourself: once it starts working, the blinders come out and you may have a difficult time getting people to change.
Unlike Illy’s Espressamente coffee bars, the food menu here — while still designed by the famed Joyce Goldstein — is a bit more involved. The service levels are also just a touch higher.
It’s not too much of a surprise that Illy decided to pull off this subtle concept shift here in San Francisco. Back in 2011, the Espressamente on Battery St. opened as America’s first free-standing example of the chain (i.e., not linked to a hotel, etc.). Like SF’s other Illy locations, it’s run by Joe Gurdock and the Prima Cosa team. Joe is an SF native with local coffee roots dating back to managing Pasqua Coffee cafés here in the 1990s.
Earlier this month illy caffè North America invited me to a media brunch for this café’s opening, with much of their executive team flying in from New York and parts east. I’m not easily impressed by these sorts of events, but I came away from the event with an even greater appreciation for what Illy does and what they are as a company.
There’s a tendency in today’s self-described “craft” coffee community to claim credit for much of anything good about coffee these days — even if most of it consists of small modifications built upon a sizable foundation of older, established arts. There’s also a lot of fawning over anything that smells new — often much of which is just new to those who haven’t dug deep enough. Meanwhile, many might roll their eyes over a “coffee dinosaur” like Illy.
Case and point with the latest coffee roasting guide du jour. Now we very much enjoy’s Scott Rao’s practical, hands-on books, and his latest The Coffee Roaster’s Companion is a good reference. Yet we know a number of craft coffee types who regard it as highly technical manual, oblivious to some of its glaring predecessors.
Just take Chapter 4 of Andrea Illy‘s (editor and Illy chairman) Espresso Coffee: The Science of Quality. This chapter dedicated to coffee roasting introduces thermodynamic differential equations, diagrams of three-dimensional thermal gradients within roasting beans over time, tables of chemical compounds and their resulting odors from roasting, ion chromatography charts, structural formulas of the changing organic chemistry bonds in roasting coffee, and references to 91 scientific coffee papers. No disrespect to Mr. Rao, but by comparison on a technical scale you could call his book Coffee Roasting for Dummies.
As another example of this cognitive gap, media people and Illy reps sat around a large, shared table at this brunch event. One of the media invitees was a freelance writer for 7×7 and other food-friendly publications (who shall remain nameless). I had mentioned how most so-called Third Wave roasters were abject underachievers at the subtle art of coffee blending, and she interjected by saying she thought that the Third Wave was instead identified more by medium roast levels.
Forget for a moment that Dunkin’ Donuts has been medium roasting their coffee pretty much since the invention of the donut. While taking furious notes, she straight-face asked the Illy reps about how they were positioned with their darker roasts in this modern taste era of Third Wave medium roasting.
Illy has been selling coffees clearly labelled “Medium Roast” before many of these Third Wave roasters were even in diapers. Thus I thought her question was honestly a little offensive. But the Illy team, probably used to being perceived as playing catch-up rather than leading the charge in coffee these days, politely answered her question without any hint of judgement. (I probably would have had to restrain myself from punching her in the throat.)
Now Illy is hardly perfect, and this post isn’t intended as an Illy love-fest. Responding to commercial pressure, they’ve bowed to some regrettable-but-business-necessary fads, such as creating their own pod system coffee and promoting dubious home espresso machines. Their coffee here in the U.S. — while employing outstanding quality controls — has never measured up to the quality standards I’ve experienced at their cafés in Europe.
But besides Illy’s many great investments in quality and to the science of coffee, the company has won awards for its ethics. They’ve been actively invested in the economic and environmental sustainability of coffee far longer than any other coffee company I know. They essentially pioneered the Direct Trade model years before it was ever called that. And they’ve done all that without the modern sledgehammer-to-the-head, profit-from-consumer-guilt practice of publicly blowing their own horn over their commitment to Corporate Social Responsibility.
Was there espresso to be reviewed here again? Of course!
There’s an elaborate designer Illy coffee cup chandelier as you walk in — a hallmark of many other Espressamente shops, but different for the rarity of some of the limited edition art cups. Since 1992, Illy’s designer cup series is technically the longest running pop art project in the world. (Their continued investment in the arts is another cool aspect of the company.) There’s a tall table with stools, some window stool seating, central café tables, and black booth café seating around the edges.
Using a chrome, three-group La Cimbali, they pull moderately-sized shots with a healthy, mottled/swirled medium and darker brown crema. The crema isn’t as thick as you typically get in a European Espressamente, but it’s decent.
The flavor isn’t exactly the typical mild spaces and wood that you get at most American outlets serving Illy: there are extra notes in between in the flavor profile. So while still not up to European standards, this is one of their best attempts yet. Served in designer IPA logo cups, of course.
Milk-frothing here is decent: somewhat dense, even, and with little erratic touches here and there. They also offer signature drinks, including botanicals like their vanilla jasmine or lavender lattes — if you like that sort of thing.
Read the review of Illy Caffè on Union St. in Cow Hollow.
Taking its name from the 2013 hit single by Miley Cyrus…
OK, no, seriously.
While the dynamic duo of Trish Rothgeb’s roasting combined with Nick Cho’s barista and service know-how (and hopefully someone else’s tax accounting) has been in the Bay Area for quite a few years, tracking their coffee house openings and closings has been a bit like playing Whac-A-Mole. Seemingly married to the disposable, throwaway culture of pop-ups, you could be excused for mistaking Wrecking Ball for a roving coffee art exhibit meant to simulate the transience and vagrancy of America’s foster care system.
This latest location opened in August 2014 in a former That Takes the Cake. It appears as a converted in-law unit at the base of a Victorian home (or law office). In front there is some quaint yard furniture with miniature table and chair seating along the sidewalk — along with a sign to notify the staff for clean-up when you’re done.
Inside everything seems whitewashed as was vogue with San Francisco home interiors of the 1950s — save for the blue pineapple wallpaper at the entrance and black wood flooring. There are three chairs sitting at their Kalita pour over bar and long bench seating along the entryway.
They offer baked goods from Marla, they sport some antique brewing equipment along their shelves, and during the day they seem to be frequented by a disproportionate number of snobby expat Europeans wearing designer jeans and sportcoats that work in the neighborhood.
Using a white, two-group La Marzocco Strada behind the small counter, they pull shots of their 1UP blend with an even but richly textured medium brown crema. It has a balanced flavor of spices of cinnamon, a little allspice, some sharp acidity, and the suggestion — but not implementation — of deeper, richer body notes. As such, the flavor profile seemed a touch incomplete relative to the last pop-up shop that served us. However, it’s still distinctive as far as San Francisco espresso styles go. Served in a white Inker demitasse.
Visit now before it closes.
Yesterday’s New York Times surely went for a low-hanging-fruit holiday cheer story in covering the hackneyed caffè sospeso in Napoli: In Naples, Gift of Coffee to Strangers Never Seen – NYTimes.com.
However — unlike the untold copycat fluff stories over recent years that bought into Starbucks‘ corporate co-opting of the practice as their Pay-It-Forward viral marketing campaign — the Times did some actual research on the history, cultural context, and economic backdrop of the gesture. This is, of course, what we love about the New York Times. (Though certainly the comments on the Times article suggest that Starbucks’ campaign continues to strongly influence laymen coffee consumers.)
First there’s the context of coffee culture in Napoli, visiting a classic Napoli gran caffè in the Gran Caffè Grambrinus, interviewing the legendary Andrea Illy, and referencing La rete del caffè sospeso (the “Suspended Coffee Network”).
It’s a reminder of how much work it sometimes takes to get it right.
There are a few great things about the Seattle-Tacoma International Airport (or SeaTac). One is a SubPop retail shop that opened in May 2014. Another is a Beecher’s Cheese shop. And next door to Beecher’s is a full-on legitimate (not just for the airport-weary) Caffé Vita.
This ain’t your ordinary airport espresso. Ignore the Hall of Shame Starbucks alley of Concourse B and head for Concourse C, near Gate C3. Surprise!: no superautomated Schaerer machine with barely employable baristas under airport union contracts and under a licensed Caffé Vita brand name.
Here there are legit baristas and a three-group Synesso machine. They sell baked goods and coffee only here with stand-up kiosk service only — so keep a free hand while lugging your luggage.
They pull shots with a picture-perfect reddish brown tiger-striped crema of solid thickness and mouthfeel. The cup has a decent body and a great balance of some herbal pungency, citric brightness, and heavy body elements. Served in a white Caffé Vita logo Nuova Point cup. The milk-frothing can be a bit dry and airy, but it’s even and good — albeit only available in paper cups.
This is a coffee oasis for any airport in the world. While my intel has it that the Klatch Roasting at LAX can seriously compete for the title (and I have yet to visit), this is arguably the best airport espresso I’ve ever had to date.
This is that insufferable time of year where reading any sort of coffee news Web site or blog means dodging an onslaught of “gift ideas for coffee lovers” advertisements feigning to be articles. These cyclical (and cynical) bits of fake journalism are often accompanied by multi-page image galleries requiring you to click through each item — to maximize tedium while inflating Web site engagement metrics and advertising exposure.
So it was with a breath of fresh air this week that I received this article from a great friend in Canada: Gift Guide: Think twice before buying a Keurig coffee maker – The Globe and Mail. The topic was simple and one we’ve long contended: if you’re thinking of buying someone a Keurig machine, here’s why not. And it inspired the subject of today’s post here: the anti-gift guide article, or what not to buy this holiday season for that special coffee lover in your life.
OK, sure, I’m a fan of Reverend Billy and the Church of Stop Shopping and Buy Nothing Day (aka “#OccupyXmas”). And it seems irresponsible to further stir up the consumer feeding frenzy that inspires maiming and even deaths at Black Friday Wal-Marts just to save $20 on a TV.
But if you’re going to be purchasing holiday gifts anyway, what should you avoid wasting your money on? Well, you’ve come to the right place. With coffee’s Fourth Wave — the gadgetization of coffee — in high gear, today the consumer coffee gear marketplace is flush with stoopid money. So much so that even classic coffee equipment designs — such as the moka pot and the Chemex — are (rightfully) looking to cash in on stacks of some of dat mad cheddar with new premium gadget introductions just in time for the holidays.
So without further ado, let the dishonor roll begin…
Either spend the $25 on a stovetop moka pot or hold off until you can hit that magical $800+ mark. Everything in-between really just isn’t worth it. All those Krups, Jura, and DeLonghi machines that litter the shelves at Sur La Table are just disappointment bombs ready to explode like IEDs on their hapless new owners. And before you point out that a moka pot technically does not brew espresso, it’s no worse than what you get out of a device made by one of these vacuum cleaner and toaster oven manufacturers.
If you recall the Island of Misfit Toys from the classic 1964 Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer animated Christmas special, I fully believe that there’s an Island of Misfit Coffee Appliances where cheap, dysfunctional, and abandoned espresso machines like these pile up like a Staten Island garbage barge.
As for simple camping devices like the Handpresso, you may as well drive your car on four donut emergency spare tires. And if you can’t afford the extra $200 for a decent burr grinder, you may as well purchase a Lamborghini mounted on donuts.
Speaking of coffee and camping, stay away from those custom coffee travel kits. You barely see your friend long enough away from the Xbox in his basement. Like when’s the next time he’s really crossing the Andes Mountains on foot like some sort of airline crash survivor?
The latest “Look, there goes Elvis!” technique from the modern coffee machine marketing playbook is to appeal to technophiles through seemingly advanced technology, such as iPhone or Android application controls. Yet we know just from their price tags that whatever WiFi and electronic investments they put into these machines, none of it went to the one thing all coffee brewing equipment must achieve to avoid complete failure: holding an accurate and consistent brewing temperature.
Your basic Technivorm can barely pull that much off without any smartphone gimmicks. Thus what you’re really buying is the equivalent of a baby busy box app — just designed for easily duped adults who somehow need more excuses to keep staring at their smartphones. And good luck when Apple releases iOS9 next year and you discover you can’t upgrade your coffee machine’s operating system.
Seriously, if you’re going to buy one of these, just stick a wad of your cash directly into a landfill. The inevitable result will be the same, just that you’ll achieve your goal much sooner and you’ll be much more environmentally friendly in the process.
This is an oldie, but it still applies today. I know there are a lot of coffee fans whose favorite coffee style or flavor profile is simply “hot”. But since making coffee is cooking, the concept of using a hot plate is essentially the same as putting your meal under a fast food heat lamp. Sure, you might keep the desired serving temperature longer. But you evaporate out many of coffee’s water-soluble flavor components, thus leeching out a lot of its good flavors while concentrating the remaining stale dreck in its place.
While attending CoffeeCON in SF this year, Kitchen Aid sent me their new “SCAA-approved” Pour Over brewer. The one thing I don’t like about it? Its ridiculous hot plate that I have to work around to avoid.
This is going to be a controversial one, as there are a lot of great roasts to be had by mail these days. But that’s precisely the point.
There are a lot of new coffee middlemen who operate subscription services. While they ship with regularity so you have the convenience of not having to think about it, most of them pretty much ship whatever inventory they want to unload. It changes from month to month.
This is fine if you’re a newbie coffee lover and you want every coffee experience to be a new discovery. But playing coffee roulette gets old quickly once you learn more about what you like. With just a couple of clicks on a roaster’s Web site, what you really want is on your doorstep within 48 hours: no subscription required.
There’s a reason why most people don’t stick with a wine-of-the-month club for a full year.
This is another controversial one. Because despite identifying the few reasons you should — and the many reasons you should not — roast your own some five years ago here, I’ve been home roasting about every other day for more than a year now. I can’t even remember the last time I purchased retail roasted coffee. After nearly a decade of declining use, a combination of newer equipment, outstanding green lots from Rwanda, and changes in home coffee drinking habits have me in something of a home roasting revival these days.
That said, I still have to say that it’s a hassle that’s not worth it for most people. It’s even one of the few times I wholly agree with Nick Cho.
Perhaps your gift recipient loves to make their own kombucha. Though if that’s the case, any suggestions for making flavorful coffee are probably pointless. Who can trust the taste buds of anybody who willingly drinks tea made from soiled diapers?
We’ve said it before, we’ll say it again. If it needs a recipe, it’s not coffee.
Would a serious, legit book on wine cram itself with recipes for kir royales and beef bourguignon?
Just as state lotteries are often called a tax on people who can’t do math, I’ve called crowdfunding services like Kickstarter a tax on people who don’t understand business loans or venture investing. If you can’t secure a decent business loan with your brilliant product idea, then throwing it out to the unwashed masses of the Internet for charitable donations doesn’t exactly make it that much more viable.
On the other hand, maybe you as the inventor could secure the bank loans, and you could establish a business that could support the product well after its first prototypes ship. But why? Especially when you can simply take the money of gullible Internet users with virtually no strings attached.
Either way, the formula isn’t so attractive on the consumer end of this equation.
The Wilfa Precision Coffee Maker… the Canadiano… the Ratio Eight … Enter the Dragon… These days an endless parade of “new, revolutionary, and even better!” coffee brewer come-ons bombard home coffee lovers seemingly every other week, suddenly relegating last week’s revolutionary brewer to the Salvation Army donation pile.
Do you have the disposable income to keep replacing your home setup every other week for the promise of a potential 0.002% quality improvement in your cup? Are you starting a collection of forgotten coffee brewing devices for the Fifteen-Minutes-of-Fame Coffee Trivia History Museum?
If your answer to both of these questions is “no”, then the $20 Bonmac dripper you’ve been knocking around with for the past several years will continue to do just fine. And it will continue to do so for years to come. If your intended gift recipient is starting from scratch, it’s worth a look at these new gadgets. But just once — and not again for probably many years.
Downtown Seattle is something of an espresso wasteland compared to most other city downtowns, especially around the touristy Pike Place Market. Which is ironic, given that it is the birthplace of the biggest coffee quality movement America has ever experienced (i.e., Starbucks).
However, that’s also part of the problem: independent specialty coffee retailers grew successful because of their craft, attracted investment, attracted expectations of scale and reach, and now many of them have evolved to become corporate coffee giants — which is now what dominates downtown Seattle. This evolution differs from most downtowns where the “corporate” part of the local coffee scene invaded from afar rather than transformed in place.
When Seattle’s coffee quality pioneers turned corporate, I fully believe that their quality has declined with that scale, as the quality bar was lowered each time with every additional 100 jobs they needed to fill and each process automation they had to adopt to meet the demand. (I still contend that the individual barista makes up 50% of the end quality in a retail espresso beverage.) Others might argue that newer independents have simply stepped in, stood on the shoulders of their predecessors, raised the quality bar further, and became the new standard-bearers of their time.
All of which sets an interesting stage for Seattle Coffee Works — a small company established several years ago by California expats. Their story suggests an arrival amidst Pike Place Market’s coffee scene with big expectations, only to encounter serious disappointment. A long story short, the team eventually opened this location right in the shadow of Pike Place Market as an expression of quality coffee, more direct relationships with farmers (they post photos of farmers on the walls and a “Coffee Manifesto” beneath the front counter/register), and trendier (i.e., post-Seattle-espresso) brew bar offerings from a “Slowbar” that offers Chemex, Hario pour-over, Aeropress, and syphon brewing.
With a Diedrich roaster in back for their on-site roasting, they produce mostly single origin roasts for retail use and retail sale. They offer an outdoor seating patio sectioned off from the sidewalk traffic. Inside it’s a wider but spare space with a bare, darker concrete slab floor, worn wooden tables and chairs, and a rear wooden bench for seating. There are shelves of antique coffee brewing equipment, which is a nice touch, and near their Slowbar there are shelves of merchandising: Aeropress, Baratza grinders, kettles, French presses, etc.
For espresso they offer their “award-winning” Seattle Space blend along with a single origin option from their two-group Synesso. With the Space Blend, rated here, they pull a shot with a very even, non-descript medium brown crema. It’s filled rather high in their Espresso Supply Cremaware demitasses from China.
As a result, the body — like the crema — is a bit thin. It has a pungent flavor with some sharper acidity of apples, some cinnamon, and other spices. It’s a classically redundant Third Wave stereotype espresso lacking much body, richness, or breadth of flavor. Served with sparking water (what the locals call “soda water”) on the side.
I had a surprisingly better shot with their single origin Panama Carmen: richer in flavor depth with more rounded, body-friendly notes. Perhaps the Slowbar is the way to go here — if not the single origin shots. The Space Blend here, despite its claimed awards, tastes a little too much like “California Third Wave” as far as my taste preferences go.