Archived Posts from this Category
Archived Posts from this Category
111 Minna has long been something of an art gallery space and night club, frequently packing long lines of SOMA patrons seeking out the DJ set. It’s what happens during the daytime that’s changed here.
They’ve closed up their previous efforts as an informal daytime bar and coffee shop (serving Illy beans from a Faema machine as a dubious coffee service). They have since reopened (by 2014) as a more formal daytime bar and coffee shop. Oh, sure, they’re still a gallery by day and a DJ-fueled disco bar for people far cooler than you by night. But the coffee service is now front-and-center during daylight hours rather than just an afterthought.
It’s a large space with tall ceilings, wood floors, wood benches, a front bar and a decorative rear bar towards the back with a more secluded space to studiously delve into laptop zombiehood beneath art installations. At the front bar they now use a two-group La Marzocco Linea, pulling shots of Four Barrel (also for sale).
Using the Friendo Blendo blend, it’s a significantly better shot than before — with a sharper edge of acidity on a mostly pungent flavor of herbs, spices, and a touch of sourness at the finish. Now served in notNeutral cups.
A worthy upgrade to the coffee standards here. You can see why they now expect to capitalize on those investments. (After all, they invested enough to give the coffee bar its own separate name here.)
This 1,200-square-foot retail space and small roasting operation of Sightglass opened in Feb. 2014. There’s outdoor sidewalk bench seating in front and a narrow wall of merchandising (coffee and brewing equipment) as you walk in the door.
While a much smaller space than the Sightglass mothership, it has a tall, airy ceiling — made with a bit of reclaimed wood, that trendy building material that costs more than Carrara marble. It has an old-style white-and-black tile floor, four mounted counter tables with a mix of booth and stool seating, and walls decorated with roasted coffee bags.
In one corner is a 1960’s-era 5-kg Probat they discovered in South Africa for exclusive roasts that they perform for this location only. They have a single origin bar here for that. Using dueling two-group La Marzocco Strada machines, they pull shots with an even medium brown crema with a little miniature speckling.
We reviewed the Jerboa’s Jump Espresso blend here — one of the location’s specialties — rather than the single origin of the day. It has a fruity aroma, but it lacks the strong acidity in the cup you come to expect from Sightglass‘ sledgehammer roasting and flavor profile style. Also unlike the typical Sightglass roast, it has a decent body, and the flavor is primarily centered around some herbal pungency with some woodiness.
Locals might whine about snooty service, but we had no such problem. Served with sparkling or still water on the side in Le Porcellane d’ANCAP logo cups.
The Interval is the bar, coffee shop, and meeting space at the headquarters of The Long Now Foundation, which publicly strives to think in terms of 10,000 year timeframes. So it’s a particularly rational thing that this isn’t a pop-up café given our current obsession with disposable culture. Which is a lot more than we can say for the regular Off The Grid food truck encampment, as it now has a permanent, very much on-the-grid sign for itself at the Ft. Mason Center. (Don’t get us started on the authenticity of food truck culture.)
The Interval is an engaging, well-designed space with a full service bar, curious machinery throughout the décor, and lots of bookcases with a spiral iron staircase up the middle of it all. There’s a long glass shared table over an extended metal block of gears.
It’s a great bar space above all. The ceiling also contains a collection of flasks — to be personally managed with the infusion of St. George spirits (for the small reservation fee of “just” $500). There’s also booth seating in the back towards the Bay plus a write-your-ideas community blackboard that reminded us of Origin Coffee Roasting in Cape Town.
Using a two-group La Marzocco Linea at the bar, they pull shots with a rich-looking, even, medium brown crema. It has a strong, potent flavor but doesn’t come across too sharp — which is rare for Sightglass coffee. It has the pungency of cloves, some honey-like edges, and a lot of cherry in its flavor. Served in green hand pottery thrown by the über-trendy folks at Atelier Dion.
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.
You may not have noticed it through most of the usual “coffee media” channels, but this past Saturday San Francisco hosted CoffeeCon‘s first-ever road tour. You might recall our coverage last year of CoffeeCon 2013, held at its Warrenville, IL mothership. In its fourth year, CoffeeCon has been enough of a success at addressing unmet coffee consumer interest to take the show nationally for the first time — with SF on July 26, NY on October 11, and finally in L.A. on November 8.
CoffeeCon is somewhat unique as a consumer-oriented coffee event, where layman coffee lovers and enthusiasts can participate without being overlooked for coffee professionals or shunned by trade show hucksters. We may have derided the widespread abuse of the term “Third Wave” as self-promotional marketing babble for some eight years now. But if there was ever an experience that epitomized coffee lovers “enjoying coffee for its own sake,” this has to rank right up there.
They held it in SOMA’s Terra Galleries art gallery/event space, which operated with a surprisingly heavy security detail. A great number of area coffee purveyors came to show off their goods to attendees — including roast-to-order Artís in Berkeley, Blue Bottle, Chromatic, De La Paz, Equator, Flywheel, Four Barrel, George Howell (from MA), Henry’s House of Coffee, Mr. Espresso, Old Soul Co. (a gem from Sacramento), Peerless, Ritual Roasters, Sightglass, and Verve. A favorite overheard non-sequitur of the day reflected the variety on display: “Oh, there’s Blue Bottle… but I can get that anywhere.”
Besides sampling a lot of coffee, attendees could also take courses, experience hands-on demonstrations of consumer equipment, hear talks from professionals (CoffeeCon has contractually locked up much of George Howell‘s speaking tours), and even check out home roasting equipment in the outdoor space.
We caught Mr. Espresso’s Luigi di Ruocco‘s “Italian Espresso” talk and even had an epiphany or two. For example, the Italian art of balance in espresso blends makes all the more sense when you think of how many each Italian sips in a given day. Punchy, overbearing brightness bomb shots would create more palate fatigue if experienced multiple times daily. It also dawned on us how important a rounded espresso flavor profile is to end a meal on as a complement, rather than competitor, to the food you’ve just eaten.
KitchenAid was one of the event’s key sponsors, and they announced a new home coffee brewer currently in factory production. It attempts to automate manual pour-over coffeemaking with an enclosed system of water-pulsing that follows a programmable pour-vs.-steep algorithm. In that sense, it seems a little like a consumer version of Clover‘s Precision Pour Over concept, which has seemingly gone dark over the past couple of years.
While KitchenAid has been long known for its mixers, it first got into the coffee business with the A-9 and A-10 coffee mills back in 1937. They still do amateurish things, such as exclusives with Williams-Sonoma (who notoriously offer some of the most overpriced and most substandard/landfill-bound consumer coffee appliances on the market). But in recent years KitchenAid has introduced decent-for-the-price-point Pro-line Burr grinders and other worthy consumer coffee products targeting what they now, unfortunately, call the craft coffee market.
Side note: the term “craft coffee”, appropriated from the beer world, is really just a pound-for-pound stupidity surrogate for the ever-more-embarrassing “Third Wave” term these days. Use of the term is made all the worse by the decades-old homonym, “Kraft coffee“: i.e., the Big Four coffee purveyor more commonly known as “Maxwell House.” This is akin to the craft beer market calling itself the “blue ribbon beer market”. *Facepalm*
So it’s with curious irony, lost on KitchenAid, that they’re now offering an appliance that push-button automates a manual pour-over in the name of craft coffee. (And not an Alanis Morissette “irony” either.)
As a home-grown event with little professional event staffing, CoffeeCon seemed to experience a bit of chaos outside of its mothership confines for the first time: running out of badge-holders, a lack of pre-event press, some improv when an occasional speaker didn’t show on time, and a couple of classrooms separated only by a hospital-room-like thin cloth barrier. The last one generated audible cacophony when the class next door would roar with coffee grinders. But all in all, the event was anything but disappointing.
We even reconnected with Aleco Chigounis, whose coffee sourcing we’ve long been big fans of. He’s since established Red Fox Coffee Merchants. (No relation, however, to “This is the Big One. Elizabeth, I’m coming to join you, honey!“.)
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.
Gary Rulli apparently wasn’t quite satisfied by operating the Emporio Rulli café along the Stockton St. side of Union Square. He expanded to the Powell Street side of the square around the holidays of 2012 with this addition, branded distinctly separate from the rest of the Emporio Rulli chain. Bancarella means “stand” in Italian — as in a coffee stand. But it’s much more than that, located in a pleasant, almost exclusively outdoor space next to the discount theater ticket outlet, across of the Westin St. Francis hotel.
There’s outdoor sidewalk patio seating under canvas parasols in the Union Square courtyard, enclosing the handful of tourists here (typically) by short plexiglass barriers. Everything is branded Bancarella here, down to their bags of La Piazza Blend coffee, so it’s almost as if they’re hiding any Rulli connections here. But the quality is pretty good regardless.
Inside the small service area there’s a small counter offering desserts, sandwiches, salads, and Italian wines. Behind the counter is a three-group, white La Marzocco Strada and a Mahlkönig K30 twin grinder — next to a service window that hands out orders like an ice cream truck.
They pull modestly sized shots with an even, medium brown crema. It has a well-blended flavor that’s smooth, carries some wood, but is mostly spices and light pepper. There was a somewhat foul or off aftertaste when we sampled it, which is probably not something we presume as consistent. It seemed like a coffee defect — like a squonky bean or two made it past sorting and into our shot. But the effect was mild, and our ratings only accounted for that a little bit. Otherwise, the body is a touch weaker than it should be, but the cup overall is made pretty well.
Served in Barcarella-logo Le Porcellane d’ANCAP cups. They also offer good latte art and higher-quality milk frothing. There is little to distinguish Bancarella much from its Emporio Rulli brethren, but who cares about branding when the coffee is good.
This small café on Geary Blvd. opened in early 2013 with the most unlikely of ambitions: serving quality coffee in this part of town, where value is normally prized heavily over quality. It’s hardly unique in this regard, as that’s also something that’s been attempted years before — e.g., Velo Rouge Cafe (and its now hackneyed bicycle theme). Even so, it’s been years since we’ve seen someone successfully repeated it.
It’s a bright, quiet space indoors with white walls and tall windows along Geary Blvd. In front there’s window counter seating, and along Spruce St. there are three smaller tables — often occupied by laptop zombies. Thus seating in this small place is at a premium. Besides coffee, they also offer Dynamo Donuts (on weekends only) and baked goods from Devil’s Teeth Baking Co.
In addition to pour-overs of some Ritual single origins, they serve espresso from a two-group La Marzocco Strada at the bar with an even, textured medium brown crema over a shorter two-sip shot. Using Ritual’s seasonal The Golden Bough blend (nice Virgil reference, btw) on our visit, the shot has a modest body with a bright flavor of apple and roasted hazelnut.
There’s a sharp acidity with some midrange but little offered at the low end of the flavor spectrum. Served in Le Porcellane d’ANCAP cups with a small Ball jar of tap water on the side.
They also offer good, even milk frothing with rosetta latte art: it runs a bit milky for a cappuccino, but it’s hard to complain when it’s made well otherwise. The small crew of attentive baristas help make the place stand out.
This café is the brainchild of former middle school teacher and Ritual Coffee barista, Kevin “Tex” Bohlin. Starting as a pop-up in SF’s South Park (which has since closed in Dec. 2013), this over-designed flagship café opened in Oct. 2013 to a considerable amount of gushing praise.
It took over the former Teashi spa, and the spirit of past mani/pedis and Brazilian waxings still sort of haunts the place. On the sidewalk out front there’s limited wooden café table seating. Inside in front there’s window counter seating for four on stools right next to shelves of coffee merchandising, just shy of the long service counter.
It’s a long space that is deceptively airier than its limited seating would suggest. There’s an array of a few café tables against a shared wall bench; these are typically the domain of laptop zombie squatters. Further back there’s an upstairs under bright skylights that offers two larger, semi-private tables.
Here there is an overwhelming sense of someone’s idyllic vision that a café should be more like an Apple Store. There are stark, plain walls and wood grain paneling plus a wannabe kanketsu “service philosophy” of removing as many barriers as possible between barista and customer.
This is exemplified by their unique, Modbar-like espresso machine: a two-group, under-the-counter job either called the Jepy Minim (per the engineer/designer John Ermacoff, aka Jepy) or the Ghost (per project designer Ben Kaminsky). It’s the guts of a perfectly acceptable Synesso Sabre, but Frankensteined beyond recognition as a sacrifice to form. This worship at the Holy Church of Makerdom might promise greater temperature control, etc., but what only matters to us as coffee lovers is what it produces in the cup.
They specially source limited coffees and roast them through Ritual Coffee Roasters for their own private label, and our review here is of their Little Brother Espresso — which comes at a whopping $3. (They also served a Costa Rica Los Crestones for $4.) It’s served slightly full with an even, medium brown crema. There’s a balance to the flavor with hints of bright fruit, but there’s primarily a mid-palate of herbal pungency.
In short: it’s a very good shot. But for all the pomp, technology, design, and the price, it doesn’t measure up to expectations — failing to rank in the Top 35 of SF coffee shops. We need to revisit to ensure we didn’t catch them on an off moment, but that would be surprising given they’ve been open for eight months and their machine has dialed down espresso shots to a push-button level. The good news for Saint Frank is that there are clear opportunities to improve. (That might also include banning all employees here from openly calling it “spro”, dude.)
This will read like an attack on Kevin when he’s done some very interesting things with unique coffees, and he’s certainly trying things. Yet Saint Frank is also symptomatic and emblematic of what seems so very lost and misguided with what the industry holds as the new standard of coffee shop today. Among all the toys and distractions of late, coffee quality in the cup seems to have again taken a back seat.
If you’re going to charge $3 for an espresso, it should at least break the Top 35 in the city. Among the 700 active espresso purveyors currently surveyed in SF, Saint Frank’s standard espresso shot is the most expensive in the city that’s served outside of a restaurant setting. (Presuming the Nespresso Boutique & Bar qualifies more as a restaurant, where you’re paying more for white tablecloth service and a global smoke & mirrors marketing campaign.)
We should all be paying more for coffee — but for better coffee. Based on our ratings, it’s not better. For the reported pedigree of their sourced coffees, it doesn’t even have a different or unique flavor profile. So what exactly am I paying extra for?
First, there’s the promising lure of shiny new equipment and it’s empirically consistent failure to deliver better coffee. In the past we’ve noted the likes of Sightglass who have been guilty of this for years. In Saint Frank’s case, it’s not even so much a “better brewing” sales come-on than superficial aesthetics: i.e., a low-profile workspace primarily conceived to address the First World coffee problem where my barista doesn’t get to see more of my crotch.
Fortunately the Modbar isn’t weighed down by outrageous costs — you can get a full system for under $10k. Hopefully Saint Frank’s custom lookalike (the Jepy Minim or Ghost, depending upon whom you ask) follows suit in that department. But with new, “revolutionary” ways to brew coffee even more perfectly being announced every week, we’ve often wondered if any of the takers ever get the chance to dial-in on them, with a serious dose of experience, before they roll on to the next big thing — looking to technology to bail them out from substandard practices.
This is a little of what former USBC champ Kyle Glanville recently called the “fancy equipment arms race”: “People are spending shit tons on machines to brew coffee when they should be investing in their own palates and understandings of flavor, and the knowledge of how coffee brewing actually works”
So what about making your café look like an Apple Store? Blue Bottle Coffee has been compared to the Apple of coffee shops, and they’re even sporting Apple-inspired service table designs. And CoffeeRatings.com has had plenty of good things to say about Blue Bottle.
Except Blue Bottle’s resulting coffee quality is noticeably better than Saint Frank’s. Now any café owner is entitled to invest hundreds of thousands of dollars in a custom espresso machine, killer grinders, and a Zenlike service design experience. But if it doesn’t translate to a better cup of coffee, those costs are being passed on to me to satisfy completely different concerns. You’d be better off having your baristas selling me $400 sweaters.
What results is a place that seems enamored with all the trappings of what’s expected of a wannabe Fourth Wave coffee place, but with no improvement in the coffee itself. Which suggests more of our cynical definition of a Fourth Wave coffee shop from four years ago. We then joked that if the Third Wave was about letting the coffee speak for itself and enjoying coffee for its own sake, the Fourth Wave was about appreciating so much of the gadgetry and trappings surrounding coffee service that any actual coffee was no longer required.
But can any of us blame Kevin? The status quo of the industry’s most popular coffee media encourage this focus. For example, a Dear Coffee, I Love You seems to care more about subway tiles than coffee roasting. While Sprudge heavily promotes their “Buildouts of the Summer” promotional series as if coffee were a construction project. And in professing “we would never grade coffee shops”, Sprudge seems too terrified to lift a judgmental finger to critique any of the coffee and potentially hurt someone’s feelings.
This leaves a massive void of any popular critical thought about retail coffee quality. Instead of learned coffee professionals, this gap is filled instead by the arbitrary standards of “top 20 coffee shops in America” lists on popular news and travel web sites — often written and compiled by interns most enamored by double-tall, four-pump vanilla caramel macchiatos in paper to-go tubs, whose understanding of coffee quality extends little beyond the MSRP price tags of the commercial coffee machine fad of the month.
Or worse: the void is left to the whims of the “man in the street” on review sites like Yelp!: where electrical outlets for laptops, cute baristas who flirt, and cheap extra large muffins count for more than any coffee quality.
Imagine a perverse wine world where the like likes of Wine Spectator or Wine Enthusiast gave everything identical 90-point scores while devoting the bulk of their writing to the wood and fixtures used to build their tasting rooms and the designers of their high-tech wine openers. It’s of little surprise that we have ended up with coffee writing that reads more like an interior design arms race sponsored by Home Depot®. Meanwhile any actual quality judgement on coffee is suppressed to the level of American youth soccer: everybody is recognized with a trophy just for participating. Why even bother with the farce of barista competitions if “everyone is a winner”?
Over a decade ago, one of the major inspirations for creating CoffeeRatings.com was our immense frustration with all the existing books and online reviews of coffee houses at the time: it was impossible to find any critical reviews of coffee places that critiqued any actual coffee. Most of the attention was spent on ambiance: the style of the clientele who hung out there, what novels they read, and how good the bagels were. With all the attention now given to new machines, service counter layouts, and who makes the wooden countertops, we seem to have relapsed to those more ignorant days.
I never thought I’d miss what six years ago I called the Malaysian street food experience. Then the environmental design slight-of-hand was in making you feel like a hipster for sipping your espresso while sitting on a cinder block in an alley filled with spent heroin needles. Even so, at least the quality of the coffee still ran as the headline. Today I’m not so sure anymore. Maybe it’s time to go back to those days.