Archived Posts from this Category
Archived Posts from this Category
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.
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.
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.
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.
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!“.)
A project of husband & wife team Lauren Crabbe (former Blue Bottle lead barista) and mixologist Michael McCrory, the couple followed the well-travelled “free money” route of Kickstarter to open this this neighborhood café and roastery in March 2014.
It’s located in a corner shop with a small storefront but long interior that extends well back to their converted 5-lb Probat LE5 roaster. In front as you enter, there’s communal seating at a larger wooden table just behind their large glass windows overlooking the street corner. There are also a few stool seats along the long wall beneath wide white shelving of retail coffee merchandising, across from the service counter.
Overall, the store can only handle a limited number of simultaneous customers: it feels deceptively large, but large swaths of the floorspace are dedicated to the service counter. But of the few seats available inside, almost none of them laptop zombies — which helps create more of a communal feel for the space.
The highlight of the service counter is the impressive three-group, manual Kees van der Westen Mirage Idrocompresso Triplette espresso machine secured from Blue Bottle’s SFMOMA location (since under much reconstruction). They use Mazzer and Astoria grinders, and for their espresso they pulled shots of their Short Strand blend: a combination of washed Ethiopia Yirgacheffe and natural Brazil from Daterra Farms (sourced as greens via InterAmerican). Michael was roasting some of the Daterra Brazil at the time of our visit, noting its lack of “peanut” character typical of its brethren.
They pull shots with a mottled medium brown crema of good thickness. It comes with a pungent aroma and possesses a fruity brightness with sharp acidity, but yet it’s backed up with a solid body from its Brazilian base. It’s a vibrant and lively shot, which is quite excellent even if it’s lacking a little balance. Served in hand-fashioned ceramic cups created by SF-based Douglas Dowers and served on a wooden plank with a glass of mineral water on the side.
It’s a seriously solid espresso, and its enjoyed within an authentic experience that seems delightfully ignorant of many of the new coffee shop trends and expectations from the more fashionable parts of the city.
In fact, it wasn’t until we tallied up our scores after the fact that we noted our ratings tied it for the best espresso shot in San Francisco. It’s an excellent shot, but it definitely warrants a revisit to ensure consistency. Or at least I need to ensure I wasn’t just in a giddy coffee mood at the time.
Long before there was Coffee Bar, Mr. Espresso continually wrestled with the “last mile” of retail coffee delivery. All their quality efforts sourcing, roasting, and blending coffee could be undone by poor storage, an inexperienced barista, or a poorly maintained espresso machine. By opening Coffee Bar, Mr. Espresso could take more direct control of that last mile and better showcase their coffee.
Equator Estate Coffees is another local roaster that hasn’t quite yet had the retail coffee outlet to truly show them off. This was a particularly nagging issue for us on CoffeeRatings.com, where over the years we noted their industry accolades but were continually challenged to find just one among dozens of example outlets where their roasts didn’t underwhelm us.
Equator co-founder and master roaster, Brooke McDonnell, sometimes took to the comments on our blog posts to debate the variances in personal tastes. She was right that personal tastes vary, and none are necessarily more “right” or “wrong” than others.
Sure, we’ve been known to pause over the likes of Stumptown Coffee Roasters — who while clearly in the upper echelon of coffee quality always seemed to rank in the lower end of that class. Someone certainly has to, so why not them?
But if Stumptown marked a natural statistical outcome when forced to jockey for rankings within subjective personal tastes, Equator represented nothing short of an anomaly for us. Ultimately, we had more or less come to the conclusion that our perception-of-quality disparity had less to do with our own coffee palate and more with their relatively loose controls over the supply and delivery chain at the retail end.
Opening in June 2013, Equator Coffees at Proof Lab Surf Shop represents a joint venture where the roaster finally got their own “reference quality” coffee bar. Located at one of the main divides in Mill Valley between traffic into “downtown” and traffic towards Muir Woods and the California Highway 1 beaches, this red-painted wooden shack at the head of a part-gravel parking lot beckons surfers and coffee lovers alike. It seems like an odd place for a surf shop (Proof Lab, in back): sandwiched between the Bothin Marsh and Coyote Creek with no sign of sand for miles. But the surfers (and boarders) come.
There’s a cement patio in front, enclosed from the highway by standing surfboards and a surf-board-inspired outdoor table. The rear entrance to the building has seating among white-painted metal café tables and chairs — and a surfboard table. Inside there are several small wooden café tables set against a wall of Hurley surf advertising. (With surfboards in the rear.) One wall is dedicated to retail sale of various coffees and home brewing equipment.
Using a red, two-group La Marzocco Strada machine, they pull shots with a mottled, textured crema of a medium and darker brown. It looks robust and organic, has a decent body, a full aroma, and a well-blended flavor of herbal pungency mixed with some spices, heavy cherry-like fruit (perhaps just a touch too much fruit for my tastes), and some honey-like edges. Served in white logo Espresso Parts cups with very necessary sparkling water on the side.
It’s a solid cup. It has great visual appeal and seems like it has all the ingredients for excellence. However, you might say the enigma continues a little: as good as it is, it still falls on the weaker side of excellence with still some room for improvement.
Haight Street has taken decades to emerge from its Summer of Love bender. Despite locals declaring “the Death of the Hippie” and the end of an idealized Haight-Ashbury by October 1967, runaway teens and drug addicts continued to flock to the neighborhood seeking social escape while lacking any support networks.
By the time I first visited the area in the late 1980s, the stories of wars between drug dealers, crime epidemics, and kids on LSD falling to their deaths out of Victorian windows had long since vanished. But the chronic problems of homelessness and drug addiction remained. Other than seeing live music at the I-Beam or experiencing the camp of Rock & Bowl (now Amoeba Records), this part of the neighborhood was something you generally avoided after dark.
Today, things are very different. In place of the sketchy Cala Foods (whose closing was celebrated by locals), there’s now a Whole Foods. Gentrification hasn’t scrubbed everything clean, but at least the Golden Gate Park area across the street no longer looks like a refugee camp from a condemned methadone clinic.
And located in a large, tall space adjacent to the Whole Foods parking lot — at what used to be the San Francisco Cyclery — is Flywheel Coffee Roasters, opening in April 2012. They have added to the growing coffee legitimacy of the Upper Haight by roasting their own beans — using a Portuguese Joper Roaster in the back.
The space has a sunny entrance with tall windows facing west over Stanyan St. Inside there is counter seating along the windows, simple stool seating at taller tables, and several other tables indoors. Out back there’s something of an enclosed deck that’s exposed to a little bit of the occasional outdoor breeze. Up wooden stairs is a low-ceiling space with a bit of coffee roasting supply storage.
The laptop zombie quotient is on the high side here (ah, the price of gentrification). This gives it a rather cavernous, library-like feel. They offer cold brew drippers ($4), syphon-brewed coffee ($5), Hario V60 pour-overs, and a new three-group Faema Enova for espresso drinks.
They pull shots with a mottled medium brown crema of some coagulated thickness. It tastes of cloves and other, deeper herbal pungency without much spice nor tobacco: it’s actually a rather narrow, limited flavor profile with little roundedness. This perhaps reflects their usual choice of single origin coffees from Colombia, Kenya, Ethiopia, etc. Served in black Espresso Parts cups with a short glass of mineral water on the side.
It may be far from the better espresso shots in town. However, that a decent coffee house serving decent coffee could exist here was difficult to imagine 25 years ago. At least that much is progress, and we always have a soft spot for truly independent cafés.