Archived Posts from this Category
Archived Posts from this Category
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.
Just when you thought I was ready to fawn over every old school coffeehouse in Seattle, here’s something to keep me honest.
Caffe Ladro has been around in Seattle since 1994, and this downtown spot has been one of their now 14 locations for at least what seems like a decade. It resides in a corner office building with a curved, glass surface. Upstairs from the sidewalk level there is some patio seating among tables and chairs and under parasols in front.
I entered on a weekday around 6pm, and it was dead save for a lone employee and a lot of disco music played on the sound system. What a difference a couple of hours makes. Once the regular office workers left the building, what remained was a Nighthawks-inspired scene where the only other patrons seemed to be shady locals who only came in to borrow cigarette lighters and the business phone.
But it would be unfair of me to characterize downtown Seattle after dark as being a little, say, dubious. Three days later I came upon a scene at the BART-level San Francisco Centre Starbucks where a woman, who was clearly out of her mind wearing only one shoe, saddled up to the condiment bar and tried to pour an entire pitcher of the free creamer into her empty 12.5-ounce plastic Coke bottle. I say “tried” because virtually all of the creamer wound up on her hands and on the floor. The poor Starbucks employee could only grab the pitcher from her hand and give one of these before mopping up:
Back to Caffe Ladro: despite the circumstances, the barista was exceptionally friendly. Though note that “ladro” means “thief” in Italian. It’s what you yell as a tourist on the #64 bus in Rome when some scugnizzo makes off with your purse or wallet out the back door. Credit to Caffe Ladro’s closing-hour patrons: I can attest to not leaving anything there unintentionally.
Inside, beneath the large, curved panes of glass overlooking the intersection, there are squat stools along a long, black countertop. In back there’s limited seating among leather chairs. The space has a high-ceilinged, loft-like feel with exposed dark wood on one wall, a darkly painted ceiling and vent ducts overhead, and some large orb-like light fixtures.
Using a three-group La Marzocco Linea, they pull shots with an even, medium brown crema that’s more typical of newer coffeehouses around the country. The body is a bit thin for its looks, and it tastes of spices, some pungency, some acidity, but a limited amount of sweetness or range in its flavor profile. In that sense, it reminded me of Flywheel Coffee Roasters in SF.
Served in classic black Nuova Point cups with a glass of sparkling water on the side. Signature drinks include the Medici, Gibraltar, and Shakerato. The resulting cup is surprisingly “modern” for the chain’s 1994 pedigree — though they have been roasting their own only since 2011. Note that my use of the word modern here isn’t necessarily a compliment.
Read the review of Caffe Ladro on Pine St. in downtown Seattle.
For over 8 years here, it’s been no secret that I’ve had to restrain my gag reflex every time some poseur/wannabe starts spouting off about coffee’s Third Wave. Because for every self-congratulatory, self-ordained Third Wave coffee shop that wishes to proclaim, “Oh, what a good boy am I. Look at what I just invented!,” there’s a place like Seattle’s Monorail Espresso that provides ample reason for them to shut up and sit down.
That Monorail even exists is a rubber glove slap across their face. A Pike Place Market, ice-packed, 15-pound sockeye salmon across the face. Monorail has not only been doing it longer than you, but they’ve been doing it before you were even born. And here’s the insult added to your injury: they also still do it better than you.
As not everyone is aware of America’s early espresso history, this humble but legendary espresso spot started Dec 1, 1980 as Chuck Beek’s espresso cart set up near the Westlake Center beneath the Seattle Center monorail — a 1962 construction for the World’s Fair to shuttle visitors from downtown to the iconic Space Needle in Seattle’s Lower Queen Anne district. Mr. Beek’s idea was to see if he could sell espresso on the streets rather than coffeehouses, making him something of a pioneer of Seattle’s espresso cart revolution of the 1980s.
By 1997, Monorail Espresso went from a cart service to its current (and relatively permanent) location: a 100-square-foot kiosk that’s today next to a Banana Republic. While it has changed little since then, other than former barista Aimee Peck taking over its ownership, it is a global espresso institution. Seattle locals and global travelers alike come here and celebrate its praises. And they deserve all they can get.
There’s a neon “Caffeine” sign, a chalkboard sidewalk sign advertising the latest specialty drink (e.g., maple latte), and a lot of bike messengers lounging nearby smoking cloves. From a sliding glass window, they’ve been serving espresso for eons made from a custom Monorail Blend produced by the small Whidbey Island roaster, Mukilteo (which has also remained strong-but-small over the eons).
Tourists bring their own demitasses from around the world to leave at this location, and the Monorail baristi often employ some of these mismatched, saucerless demitasses in service if you’re not getting it in paper. (For example, we were served with a Richard Ginori cup.)
Using a two-group La Marzocco Linea, they pull shots with a splotchy dark and medium brown crema with old-school-quality looks. It has a creamy mouthfeel and has a robust flavor of chocolate, cloves, spice, and a great roundness in its taste profile. This is an espresso of thoughtful quality that’s unfortunately fallen out of vogue fashion among many newer coffee shops. I’d trade all the Sightglasses in SF for just one 100-square-foot Monorail. In downtown Seattle, corporate espresso is arguably the norm save for a wonderful exception such as this.
Served with a glass of sparkling water on the side. Cash only, because you can save that Apple Pay Touch ID for your proctologist.
Read the review of Monorail Espresso in Seattle.
In addition to my rather obsessive love of coffee and evaluating its various flavors and aromas, I’ve made no secret of my equally fond appreciation of good wine. How much the two are connected — though sometimes at arm’s length — has been a running topic on this blog over the years. That theme repeated itself again when earlier this month I attended a weekend course called Sensory Analysis of Wine at the Culinary Institute of America at Greystone, in Napa Valley’s St. Helena.
Coincidentally, this week’s new episode of the Esquire Network’s The Getaway featured the Napa Valley and was hosted by Twin Peaks “damn fine cup of coffee” legend, the actor and now winemaker Kyle MacLachlan. Here’s a spot where he visits Napa’s Oxbow Public Market with Carissa Mondavi for coffee at Ritual Coffee Roasters:
In the video short, Carissa mentions the aromatic descriptors in coffee that you also find for wine. Which brings us back to the CIA course further up-valley. Located in a beautiful campus built in the 1880s as a co-operative winery (and since handed down from the Christian Brothers on down), it was purchased by the CIA in 1993 for use as their West Coast campus.
The course was taught by John Beuchsenstein, a veteran winemaker and wine sensory evaluation expert of some 30 years. Perhaps most notably, he’s a co-author of the Standardized System of Wine Aroma Terminology, also known as the Wine Aroma Wheel. It inspired the familiar SCAA Coffee Flavor Wheel, and John remembers the time when his work influenced the Coffee Flavor Wheel’s creation.
The two-day course was both an intensive lesson on the organic chemistry behind wine aromas, flavors, and defects and a hands-on lab where students tested their skills at learning and detecting these components. Volatile organic compounds such as 4-VG, 4-EP, esters, phenols, and fusel alcohols all represent the sort of chemical cause-and-effect linkages that have been long established for wine. However coffee is only just now getting a handle on similar chemical markers and how they impact the flavors and aromas of coffee.
The good news for coffee is that the research is coming, but it will take time. As noted in the scientific paper on wine linked above, the wine industry has established standardized “recipes” for creating wine’s fundamental aromas and flavors. These form a foundation for a common sensory wine vocabulary. If you want a model for tobacco, there’s a base wine and an amount of off-the-shelf elements you can use to create that reference sensation, and you can dial it up or down in concentration to train your sensitivity to it.
Another parallel? Dr. Ann C. Noble at UC Davis had been using spider charts to model the sensory analysis of wines well over 30 years ago — something green bean buyers from SweetMaria’s would strongly identify with today. A major departure? Wine just doesn’t have coffee’s temperature-sensitive bands where different aspects of its flavor and aroma profile shift dramatically.
Also of note is that the CIA at Greystone is one of the homes of Illy‘s Università del Caffè — a fact that Illy Master Barista, Giorgio Milos, pointed out to me when I ran into him at an Illy Art in the Street event at The NwBlk in the Mission last month. (Do check out his semi-controversial article on the limited praises of pod coffee in last month’s Coffee Talk.)
Courses at the Università del Caffè are infrequent, but the CIA at Greystone has a permanent coffee outlet on exhibit in the form of The Bakery Cafe by Illy. Sure, many culinary students and staff drink watery Equator Estate Coffee from the Fetco brewers in the demonstration kitchens at the CIA. But this bakery/café opened in April 2012 as an outlet for where CIA students could serve lunch, baked goods, and café fare to the general public.
With heavy Illy branding near the De Baun Theater, it’s also next to a CIA counter behind glass walls that serves wine, charcuterie, and chocolate confections. They offer baked bread and cookies, sandwiches, soups, salads, side dishes (good French fries, btw), wines by the glass, and of course — coffee.
There are multiple indoor tables and chairs with table service (and ordering at the counter) and colorful hanging lights. Using a two-group La Cimbali XP1 chrome beauty behind the counter, fed by the big Illy can-o-beans, the same students pulled shots that varied wildly in the two times we visited for lunch over a weekend course here.
The staff wear “Illy-approved” fashionable shoes with the men sporting skinny ties like wannabe metro Europeans. With their service model carrying drinks to your table when they are ready, this clearly contributes to a lot of the variance. (Coincidentally, Giorgio Milos frequently talks about about the challenges of consistency with table service.)
On Saturday’s class day it had no crema beyond a tinge of cloudiness on the surface of what seemed like drip coffee crossed with a weak hot chocolate. It had a flat flavor with little brightness, a surprisingly decent body, but little to excite beyond that: a stale-seeming shot with no Illy woodiness, etc.: a shot that scored well on some properties but completely failed on others.
Then on Sunday the shot came with a darkly speckled brown crema, a solid aroma, and a warming flavor of mild spices and wood in balance that you come to expect of Illy. Nothing at the quality level of their European cafés (it’s always a much better product there for some reason), but an all-around shot of decent quality. So it’s very hard to tell you what you will get here, other than an erratic performance by students and a seeming lack of quality control intervening. Other than it’s served in Illy logo IPA cups.
Read the review of The Bakery Cafe by Illy in the CIA at Greystone, St. Helena, CA.
This downtown Mountain View coffee bar has been around for what seems like ages. While they’ve upped their roasted coffee pedigree in recent years (Four Barrel in SF) and improved their barista training as well, the place suffers a bit because of what it offers.
As a non-profit space, they promote a lot of good community events. There’s a whiteboard at the entrance listing all of the live musical events held there. It also serves as a little of a community arts center — particularly on the second floor above, they showcase a number of visual art pieces on exhibit.
The downside is that they offer free WiFi, which actually attracts the worst kind of customer here: laptop zombies intent on camping out and exploiting a free community resource as much as possible. Fortunately there’s enough seating to accommodate others who are here to drink coffee and socialize, but the upstairs in particular is a zombie apocalypse.
Its interior is a bit worn-down, dusty, and dark — with a red and black color scheme, red hanging lights, and a number of smaller café tables and chairs downstairs with more, larger tables upstairs. Since this is located in an historic stone-exterior building with wide windows overlooking the Villa St., some light does get in.
They have a bar marked “Single Origin Bar” (note the sign with the big finger) that serves single origin coffees with a dedicated three-group Synesso machine. They mostly use a three-group La Marzocco FB/80 at the corner of the bar to serve most drinks. The default blend is Friendo Blendo, but they also typically offer a single origin espresso.
The shot comes with an even, medium brown crema that’s a bit thin on structure. It’s served short for a double shot, and it’s a complete Four Barrel brightness bomb: bright herbal notes of citrus and apples and some molasses and some modest body underneath it. Served in black classic Nuova Point cups.
This is not your every-day espresso, and it’s almost obnoxious as some of the generally disaffected baristi who work here.
Read the review of Red Rock in Mountain View, CA.
This bakery/café has been around for over 20 years. It may get mixed reviews for its service and some of its pastries, but they deserve special mention for sometimes making the most out of Equator Estate coffee where many other locations have struggled with the product. They offer sidewalk seating out front among parasols for all those grand sunny days in Half Moon Bay (OK, that’s a joke for you tourists). There are two tiny tables inside and an indoor rear patio with a lot more café tables and chairs in the back — inside the Courtyard Shops warehouse space.
The key to the quality of the shot, which they make from a two-group La Marzocco Linea at the back, is in its shortness: a mere two sips for a single when it’s excellent, three or more sips when it’s just pretty good.
When pulled short, they leave a thin layer of a chocolatey, dark brown crema — which isn’t very impressive save for its color. But when it almost looks like two sips of hot chocolate, the body is dense and the shot is robust, potent, full-bodied, with a flavor of cinnamon, chocolate, and very few bright notes. Normally on longer shots (three or more sips) the crema is an even, medium brown. As a longer shot, the flavor is more typical: herbal pungency with some woodiness, a minimal chocolate edge, and few bright notes.
The milk-frothing here can be firm but not too stiff, creamy without being dry, and served in regular coffee mugs. While it can be one of the best Equator shots around when it’s short, it’s not consistently so. Sigh.
Read the review of the Moonside Bakery and Cafe in Half Moon Bay, CA.
Rustic Bakery has earned awards for its baked goods, but its espresso service is surprisingly good. This location sits at the end of the Larkspur Landing for the incoming ferries, in the Marin Country Mart.
They have extensive outdoor space with white-painted wooden picnic tables under parasols at multiple zones around the building. Inside they have some stool seating among shared, long tables. They serve many baked goods in addition to salads, sandwiches, and wines.
While most Americans might complain about the scant volume — a sign advertises a 4-oz pour that’s closer to 1-oz — the result is potent and yet balanced. It has a potent aroma, and it provides a single sip with good (not overly extensive) body and potency. There’s some molasses and modest spices in the flavor mix, and it’s surprisingly lacking the Stumptown brightness bomb acidity.
Read the review of Rustic Bakery Café in Larkspur Landing, Larkspur, CA.
We managed to review this café a few hours before, and again a few hours after, the Napa earthquake that struck early yesterday morning. Staying overnight with friends in St. Helena on Saturday, some 20 miles from the epicenter, we experienced it as a moderately strong, somewhat lengthy shake.
Many in the house — half-awake at 3:30am after the shaking subsided — exclaimed, “That was a big one!” Tragic damages and injuries aside, it was not very big. Despite it being the largest earthquake in Northern California in 25 years and causing an up to $1 billion in damages, it was a minor jolt in comparison to the 1989 Loma Prieta quake. That one I experienced from the ground floor of UC Berkeley’s then-brand-new LSA building. Whereas yesterday’s quake was rather silent, the Loma Prieta quake came with an unmistakably monstrous roar that sounded like a large truck was slowly scraping a 10-ton Dumpster across a nearby parking lot.
Hopefully this weekend’s quake will serve as a good emergency preparedness opportunity for the many Bay Area residents whom have experienced nothing like that in at least a generation. But my guess is most have no idea what’s coming.
For all of today’s protests over tech workers driving up housing costs and bringing giant buses to their neighborhoods, few could probably fathom 1989’s mass exodus of “undesirables” from that era — then colloquially called yuppies. Within a few months after the 1989 quake, many sold their homes at a loss, fleeing in fear for states like Arizona and Nevada because they could no longer trust the ground they stood upon here.
After reviewing Sogni di Dolci on Saturday afternoon, we had intended to check out the St. Helena edition of Model Bakery Sunday morning. That plan was thwarted when the western half of St. Helena’s Main Street was left without power. Model Bakery may have been open for business — and still had lines for their baked goods — but there were no working cash registers, no working credit card systems, and certainly no working espresso machines.
Sogni di Dolci was more fortunate, with power long since restored to the east side of the street. The lines were longer, given how the power outage limited options for downtown’s morning coffee zombies, and they processed the queue quite slowly.
Opening in May 2010, this Italian-themed espresso bar/gelato shop/panini bar/booze bar expanded into the next door space at 1144 Main St. in 2012 to grow from 17 to 47 seats. The growth plan included an expanded menu to also cover dinner items, but the place still functions better as a full-service bar & café than as a full-service restaurant. Behind the 1144 doorway is their new full bar, with its long counter of upholstered stools and a variety of unique beers on tap and in bottles (in addition to wine).
At the center as you enter is their three-group, red La Marzocco FB/80, so they’re making the right coffee investments — even if they’re using Lavazza beans (which, btw, we surprisingly like). Above that is an HDTV often showing soccer matches (e.g., a Ligue 1 match between Saint-Étienne and Rennes on our last visit). There’s also a short, stand-up piano, a number of dining tables in back in addition to their café tables in front plus an enclosed outdoor sidewalk patio with metal café tables under parasols. At the service counter they have a good selection of gelato.
The interior décor is aspirationally upscale: with mirrored walls, dark-painted wood, Italian light fixtures hanging from the ceiling, and darkly painted wood bench seating lining the entire entrance perimeter. But despite the owner’s wife studying art in Florence, the hallway of black & white photos she brought from all over Italy combined with a patchwork of sometimes-incongruous Italian-themed décor makes it a bit like Italy by way of suburban New Jersey. For example, we may love Amalfi, but the big illuminated postcard photo is a bit much. (Having started watching the great new Italian TV series Gomorra, adapted from the 2008 movie Gomorrah, I was subtly reminded of the decorations within Immacolata Savastano’s home.)
For espresso, they pull surprisingly (and pleasantly) short shots with an even, medium brown crema. It’s potent with a good body: one area where the owners wisely decided to buck the New Jersey Italian stereotypes. It has a blend of traditional Lavazza flavors of mild spice and herbal pungency and is served in Lavazza-logo IPA cups. Their milk-frothing tends to be light and airy but consistent. Overall, a worthy espresso.
Read the review of Sogni di Dolci in St. Helena, CA.
Taylor Maid Farms has been a Sonoma County coffee institution since 1993. When the overused term “third wave coffee” was first coined by Wrecking Ball‘s Trish Rothgeb (née Skeie) many years ago, she was roasting here at the time. With locations in “downtown” Sebastopol and inside Copperfield’s Books in San Rafael, in 2013 they moved their Sebastopol flagship café and roasting operations to The Barlow as part of its reinvention and reopening.
The Barlow is a grand attempt at rural renewal. Originally opened in the 1940s as the extensive Barlow apple factory and processing plant, the fortunes of Sebastapol — and its apples — changed with the times. As apples yielded merely a fraction of the crop value when compared to grapes for Sonoma County wines, the apple industry (and the Barlow apple factory) all but perished in the region.
For example, Sebastopol’s infamous Gravenstein apple — a flavorful but not the most supermarket-shelf-friendly apple — had to be rescued from extinction by one of the few Slow Food presidia in the country, an annual apple fair, and other public awareness measures to shore up the county’s agricultural biodiversity.
Meanwhile, the economic changes to the region also created something of a jobs crisis. One solution to the problem arose in the 2013 construction and opening of the nearby Graton Resort & Casino — a nearly $1 billion investment that brought some 1,600 new local jobs. A stark contrast to this approach, and one perhaps much more fitting for the area, was the reinvention of The Barlow.
Inspired by the opening of San Francisco’s Ferry Building Marketplace and Napa’s Oxbow Public Market, The Barlow was reopened in 2013 as a consumer-friendly home to artisinal food, wine, and even coffee production. It’s a vast campus with an extensive network of modernized warehouses, dwarfing the Ferry Building and Oxbow markets. And word from the locals has it that anything served on its grounds carries a number of local production requirements.
In front of the shop along McKinley St., Taylor Maid Farms offers some rather extensive front patio seating. Inside there are two levels of café tables and chairs, a wall of coffee and equipment for retail, and a lot of counter and stool seating near open glass garage “delivery” doors. There’s a lot of rough, reclaimed wood paneling, concrete floors, and a large rear space dedicated to their coffee greens and roasting operations.
They cover the electrical outlets here, and the environment responds in social kind by being a somewhat vibrant community space where locals and tourists alike tend to talk to each other instead of zoning out in front of screens. Given the region’s many denizens who look like a Phish tour bus just crashed down the road and scattered the occupants everywhere, this should not come as a surprise.
For retail coffee equipment, they sell everything from a Rancilio Silvia, Aeropress, Clever and Hario drippers, Baratza grinders, and their own trademark cans of roasted coffee (but they also sell it to measure in bags). They offer five different pour-over menu coffees to choose from for either “Brew Bar Hot” (five methods at different prices) and “Brew Bar Cold” (two methods).
Using a two-group La Marzocco Strada (and three Mazzer grinders), they pull shots with a darker-to-medium brown, even crema and a flavor that blends in bright notes but is otherwise dominated by molasses and chocolate tones. The thinner body is about the only complaint.
Served in black Cremaware cups with a glass of still water on the side. Their milk-frothing can be a little crude, and their drinks tend to run wet/milky rather than dry/foamy. While the macchiato might be a little heavy on milk, the 6-oz cups for their cappuccino keeps it balanced.
Read the review of Taylor Maid Farms in Sebastopol, CA.
Originally opened as Caffe Sportivo circa 2008 with a strange homage to a fitness joint (due to a physical trainer who ran the place), this independent coffeehouse introduced better coffee standards to Redwood City — a Peninsula town that locals often jokingly call “Deadwood City.” (…If you must compete with “Shallow Alto” — i.e., Palo Alto.)
In 2012 the same owner changed the name and the vibe of this place to something closer what it is today: a darker corner coffeehouse with a focus on coffee, wine & beer (and minimalist food items), and live music nights. Perhaps in this game of perpetuating bad puns, this place could carry the nickname “Black Yard Coffee Co.” Basic black is sort of the theme here.
The focus here on coffee now is oddly fortuitous given its address (Brewster Ave.). While there is some token outdoor café table seating under parasols along two sides of the building with limited parking in the rear, the vibe is really inside this place. It’s dark: the interior has long sofas and counter seating beneath tinted windows. And black everything: tables, floors, chairs, painted wall sections, etc. The laptop zombie presence is noticeable without being overwhelming — perhaps due to the emphasis on live and recorded music.
They emphasize their Stumptown Coffee supplies, using multiple roasts for their V60 pour-over service. For espresso they use a highly customized three-group Synesso machine at the bar, pulling shots with an even, medium brown crema. It has the expected Stumptown brightness and a flavor of apples, spices, herbal pungency, and some molasses with a potent body as well. Served in black (of course) classic ACF cups with no saucer.
This is solid coffee for an area where that can be still a bit hard to find.
Read the review of Back Yard Coffee Co. in Redwood City, CA.