Archived Posts from this Category
Archived Posts from this Category
Here in that other SF, this postage-stamp-sized espresso kiosk has a very outsized reputation, and why not? The husband and wife team of Bill and Helen Deutsch got their espresso start in Seattle back in the early 1990s era of ubiquitous coffee carts. They brought that same spirit to Santa Fe and have been operating here since 1993.
Which makes Holy Spirit Espresso akin to an archeological find designed to puzzle future anthropologists; it’s like finding 1990s Seattle espresso cart DNA in the middle of the New Mexico high desert. And like an origin story, its name is the English name for the town.
Out in front of the cart cubbyhole are four four metal chairs and two small tables along the sidewalk with a lone parasol above them. Inside is essentially a parked mobile cart dominated by a two-group Synesso machine (formerly a La Marzocco) — surrounded in a bizarro motif of various postcards, photographs, foreign money, and travel tchotchkes covering every one of the few square inches inside the tiny space.
There’s even St. Drogo, the patron saint of coffee. (He’s also the patron saint of ugly people, but we’re not going to infer anything from that.)
Using old Astoria grinders and very-Seattle Caffé d’Arte bags of coffee, Bill or Helen pulls a shot with a medium brown striped crema of modest thickness. The doppio ($2.25) is filled extra high in the cup. It has an old world Italian-leaning flavor profile of mild tobacco smokiness, spices, and some woodiness and is served in mismatched ceramic cups without saucers when you ask “for here”.
The milk-frothing is dense, not too airy, and with uneven microfoam bubbles. Posted as a “Best of Santa Fe 2012” winner, Bill was awarded for best local barista. No matter when, they’re still pretty good and you have to do something right for such a tiny business to remain in operation this long.
Read the review of Holy Spirit Espresso in Santa Fe, NM.
This central Santa Fe coffee house resides in the Santa Fe Arcade on the 2nd Floor. Opening in December 2015, it was developed as a new coffee house “concept” by an area restaurant group lead by Gerald Peters called Santa Fe Dining Inc.
Yes, apparently coffee has become a restaurant theme in America, with this concept being self-described as “full-service third wave coffee house”. Which only underscores how the term third wave has become the modern coffee equivalent of the hackneyed gourmet label from the 1980s.
We’ve been mocking the wannabe hipster use of third wave for a decade now, so most of you are probably glad we’ve largely given it a rest over the years. But ten years later and we’re still surprised that so many relative newbie coffee lovers come to its defense — and so much so that desperate marketers continue to use it.
For the many Millennials who were too young to know the 1980s, a little social history lesson about the term gourmet may provide context. As Wikipedia notes for the word:
In the United States, a 1980s gourmet food movement evolved from a long-term division between elitist (or “gourmet”) tastes and a populist aversion to fancy foods.
Sound anything like the many curmudgeons today who seem offended by the mere existence of “fancy coffee”? Also note that this transformation followed the establishment of supposed “second wave coffee” stalwarts such as Starbucks and Peet’s.
The 1980s saw the popularization of many otherwise commodity foodstuffs to an elevated status with an obligatory gourmet label. Orville Redenbacher became synonymous with gourmet popcorn. Jelly Belly popularized the concept of gourmet jelly beans. Lather, rinse, repeat. Thus at the time, the word gourmet became a sort of shorthand nudge-and-wink to let consumers know that this wasn’t your father’s foodstuff and that its distinguished quality commanded a higher price.
Compared to our coffee wave, your coffee wave is tough and chewy.
Problem was that the term gourmet wasn’t backed by any real definition, guarantee of quality, nor certification. This left the barn doors open for every profit-minded copycat and charlatan to rush in and lay claim to its meaning.
Thus today the term gourmet has since been relegated to downmarket product come-ons in the aisles at commodity goods stores such as Wal-Mart; meanwhile the premium quality/price vanguard has moved on to terms like artisan. Just this week at the ABQ Sunport (airport), I walked up to a Comida Buena with bold “gourmet deli” branding that served me a soggy croissant sandwich wrapped in tin foil and left under a heat lamp for who knows how long. What does gourmet really mean when this happens?
The same is true today of third wave coffee, which has become an unqualified label boasted by wannabes in an attempt to claim some sort of false legitimacy. Meanwhile, virtually all of the top-quality roasters and coffee shops in the world distance themselves from the term. What does third wave really mean when this happens?
Which brings us back to the 35° North Coffee concept. Their slogan, coined by restaurant vet and manager Rob Rittmeyer, is “Find your latitude”. Its name refers to Santa Fe’s latitude as well as the number of grams of coffee used in their pour-overs.
As part of a concept restaurant chain, the food gets a bit more of the attention here. They serve beignets, a croque monsieur, and banh mi sandwiches as a sort of French-influenced theme — even if French is a poor choice for a coffee affiliation.
Accessed from inside the mall, there are five nicer faux marble café tables along a back booth and a marble rear counter with a half-dozen stools. There’s also a separate seating room (the “War Room”) with more and larger tables across of the main entrance. The kitchen, and its vent, are massive: these are clearly food people. And the food sensibilities don’t stop with edibles, as they even offer (as is creative coffee in New Mexico) an oatmeal latte: complete with actual oatmeal, brown sugar, and granola as influenced by Colorado ski bums.
They do roast their own coffee on-site with all the space they have, but any labeling of blend, coffee origin, or other pedigree is virtually absent from a supposed third wave coffee house. They offer drip, pour-overs (supposedly single origin, but how could you tell?), nitro coffee, and espresso service. And yes, they even offer something called a “Latitude Adjustment”: a nod to the Paleo snake oil types seeking a Bulletproof Coffee(tm) knock-off.
All said, they use the three-group La Marzocco Linea behind the counter on shots of their “dark roast blend” to produce an even, medium-to-darker-brown crema of decent thickness. Whatever wave they are supposed to belong to, I have had identical coffee experiences in the late 1990s. But to their credit the espresso body is good, and despite being served in a short paper cup the results are better than expected. It has a darker flavor profile of herbal pungency with some tobacco but no ashiness.
Read the review of 35° North Coffee in Santa Fe, NM.
Opening in August 2014, this independent coffee shop is a casual space located in the strip-mall avenues of NE Albuquerque. It’s in an odd part of town (like what isn’t odd in ABQ?) … located in something of a no-name neighborhood.
However, just a mile and a half further down Lomas Blvd. NE this weekend will be the sixth annual Southwest Coffee & Chocolate Fest at the New Mexico State Fairgrounds — a 135-vendor consumer coffee and chocolate event that has inspired more than a few New Mexico roasters and cafés. Yes, this is a true Southwestern coffee fest and not the grotesquely bloated, shark-jumped SXSW affair simultaneously going on in Austin, TX.
Driving eastbound on Lomas Blvd. NE, you can’t miss it for the dayglow orange painted building out front — a space (and a Web site) it shares with Baker Architecture + Design. Pull into any one of its five parking spots in the front lot, and you’ll notice a couple of café tables on the sidewalk out front. There are a few simple café tables inside for seating.
There is a turquoise-painted, weathered wood counter with a three-group UNIC Stella di Caffè machine for serving their espresso shots. No pour-overs here, folks, but they’re also known for their cold brew — as is required in these high desert parts. Bottles of which also make an appearance on their wall of coffee merchandising.
They promote their heavy use of local food and drink producers (e.g., Rasband Dairies for milk, etc.), and they’ve ventured into burritos and pastries such as the notorious “pie tart” — a sort of less unnatural version of the Pop Tart.
Their coffee — while private labeled as Honest Coffee — is roasted by Prosum Roasters in town. They also feature a guest roaster as an alternative, and on this visit it was Arizona’s Cartel Coffee Lab. (Speaking of artisan Pop Tarts…)
Pulling a shot of a three-bean Central American/Ethiopian blend with a darker roast on it, they served the shot a little hot with a modest body and multi-colored crema that thinned out. The flavor was a bit weaker on first sip but oddly strengthened with greater concentration towards the bottom of the cup — with chocolate, some caramel, some woodiness and a bit of cherry brightness for a darker roast espresso.
Served in a quadrilateral-cut wooden block with two holes for a sparkling water glass and the espresso shotglass. It’s particularly a New Mexico thing. Milk-frothing here can be a little uneven, but the quality is generally good.
It’s a good introduction to New Mexico’s newer breed of coffee shop, which we’ll review more over the coming weeks.
Read the review of Humble Coffee Company in Albuquerque, NM.
When it came to coffee in Sacramento during the 1990s, Java City ruled the earth. Starbucks made their imprint like every other market in America, but Sacramento was Java City. Even longtime Sacramento coffee institutions like The Weatherstone — now part of Old Soul — once fell under the Java City spell in the years since its 1974 opening.
Java City eventually closed all of their retail locations by 2012 to focus on wholesale bean distribution. As local coffee entrepreneur, Sean Kohmescher, put it: “Java City’s lack of focus on its retail end hurt its café location(s)”.
Who is Mr. Kohmescher? The founder and original barista of Temple Coffee Roasters, which was established in 2005 in Midtown Sacramento. Exemplifying Sacramento’s newer generation of independent coffee roasters that first came to prominence in the mid-2000s, Temple has since expanded to several Sacramento area shops (including one in nearby Davis, CA) and a nationally recognized roastery.
This downtown location opened in early 2006. Located between the homeless encampments/tents in Cesar E. Chavez Memorial Plaza and the random screams of doorway-dwelling street people along the K Street Mall (an area that has always been a little sketchy), this shop attracts a decidedly student-oriented clientele.
Out front there’s fenced-in sidewalk seating, consisting of a long wooden counter and chairs under parasols along 9th St. Inside they painted the ceiling ducts black, left crude cement slab floors, with a painted coffee menu on the cement block rear wall espousing espresso, French press, and pour-over options (using clear Hario V60s).
They have two long, live-edge wood tables for shared seating plus a side bench with various students plugged in to earbuds and laptops. On the opposite wall is a significant wall o’ merch (pots, drippers, brewers, T-shirts, beanies, mugs). They offer a plethora of roasts for sale, and for their espresso at the time of our visit they offered their Dharma Blend, Ethiopia Limmu Burka Gudina, and a Colombia San Jose decaf in different grinders.
Ordering an espresso with their Dharma Blend, they served it from a four-group La Marzocco Linea PB. Despite the stripped-down environment, they brought the espresso to our seat with a small wooden tray containing the espresso in a white notNeutral demitasse and a small glass beaker of sparkling water. Thoughtful and classy. It came with a mottled darker and medium brown crema with a good coagulation and thickness.
The flavor is “dark” with a full-bodied mouthfeel: there’s molasses, chocolate, and caramel. As an espresso I didn’t get much of the stated cherry, but as a macchiato the cherry comes through more. This is a robust, untrendy espresso that still believes in dark, body-driven complexity — a well-blended coffee that’s just about as good as you can get anywhere. Their milk-frothing is dense and quite good also.
Read the review of Temple Coffee Roasters in Downtown Sacramento, CA.
With the National Felon League coming to town for
SuperBloat SuperBore SuperBowl 50, and the entire Bay Area overrun with corporate sponsorship, it’s a good time to shelter in place with some good coffee, right?
Thankfully the folks over at Allann Bros. Coffee in Albany, OR shipped us a pound of their Maestro’s Blend for evaluation. Founded in 1972 by their Roast Master, Allan Stuart, Allann Bros. Coffee opened a chain of eight coffee houses beginning in Ashland, Oregon — ye of the Shakespeare Festival fame.
When it comes to bean stocks, they claim to have developed Direct Trade partnerships and use of only high-altitude grown varietals. They fire-roast their coffee in a 1939 Jabez Burns Roaster and apply post-roast blending. Allann Bros. notes that the Maestro’s Blend is their most popular, signature espresso blend, describing it with a “dark, smoky flavor, coupled with a buttery crema and nutty flavor”.
Visually, it’s a seriously scary dark roast with what seems like enough surface oil to comb your hair in the reflection. It probably has an Agtron reading in the 25-30 range, which is akin to a Peet’s Major Dickason’s blend. This ain’t your conformist Third Wave coffee roasted with a brief puff of hot air just this side of grassy.
As such, it will elicit knee-jerk reactions much in the same way a light New England roast did for many Berkeley coffee fiends in the 1980s. But being a long-time believer in the versatility of coffee among its various roasting styles and brewing methods, I wanted to check out any of its merits.
Brewing it many times as an espresso with my usual Mazzer Mini and Gaggia G106 Factory lever machine, it produced a rather healthy crema: generous, albeit not too coagulated. The resulting cup had a crema with a swirl of darker and medium brown crema. Buttery? Perhaps.
It had a decent but not remarkable body, and one would expect more body from coffees roasted in this style. Flavorwise, there wasn’t any ashiness or even bitterness. However there was a notably dryness to the palate — a kind of astringency. As expected, sweetness was mostly an afterthought with barely discernible caramelization of sugar starches of a molasses-like quality. It’s a pungent cup with a flavor dominated by tobacco and smoke, and I couldn’t pick up much of their nuttier flavor descriptors.
|Blend||Aroma [info]||Brightness [info]||Body [info]||Crema [info]||Flavor [info]||Overall|
Ultimately as a pulled shot it looks much better than it tastes. Which isn’t a bad taste by any means, but it isn’t very flavorful either. And while there’s some balance for the flavors that are actually present in the cup, it lacked large parts of coffee’s flavor spectrum.
It’s unfortunate when the best things I can say about a coffee are more about the negative qualities it lacks rather than the positive qualities it possesses. Unsurprisingly, the coffee serves better as a complement to steamed milk than straight on its own — and there’s a place for that among coffee styles. But I couldn’t find enough qualities that distinguished it from most other dark roasted blends, which is always a challenge.
Although it has one thing going for it: compared with Peet’s Major Dickason’s Blend, it costs about a third less.
Founded in 2009, Asado Coffee Company first opened in Chicago’s Lakeview neighborhood — the same neighborhood that served as Intelligentsia’s birthplace some 20 years ago. Founder Kevin Ashtari started the business by roasting his own with a makeshift roaster: a rotisserie motor rotated a drum over a barbecue grill.
Things blew up in 2010 when Chicago Magazine named theirs the city’s best cup of coffee, and the independent weekly Chicago Reader named them best coffee roaster. Kevin later took on a partner, Jeff Liberman, upgraded to a 12-kilo roaster, and they’ve since expanded with roasting operations in each of three Chicago area cafés. However, they still focus on somewhat unusual, small coffee farms around the world and only roast two days worth of coffee at a time.
One of their newer locations is this historic Loop building, though you might say it’s more of an anachronism than an actual Loop building. Called the Pickwick Stable, it is located in a tight, private alley once called Pickwick Place. This tiny (19 ft x 19 ft) building sits nestled and recessed between two skyscrapers, the Gibbons Building and the Steigler Building. It survived the 1871 Great Chicago Fire — serving as a horse stable and restaurant at various periods throughout its lifetime. It remains one of downtown Chicago’s oldest and smallest buildings.
The long passageway leads up to rather large sign exclaiming “COFFEE”. There is outdoor seating among metal tables and chairs in the alleyway, which would be a great urban respite if not for visiting during the sleet storm of Winter Storm Goliath (and the typical Chicago weather between November and April). The only sheltered seating was a lone chair inside the building next to the service counter.
Have I mentioned that the place is tiny? Like Spella Caffé in Portland tiny. Their chalkboard menu displays their offerings of drip, pour-over (no batch-brewed here, folks), coldbrew (trendboys be trendboys even in a winter blizzard), and espresso drinks — plus scones, alfajores, and other pastries. They also offer some of their limited roasts for direct retail sale.
Using a three-group spring-lever driven Mirage Idrocompresso (their standard among all outlets), they pull shots of their Especiales blend with a lightly speckled medium brown crema with lighter thickness but decent density. It’s a long cup. Too long, actually, but it still manages not to be runny.
The Especiales is Asado’s lone blend: a mix of their two Mt. Meru Tanzania coffees (one a peaberry), each roasted at a medium and at a cliché-busting dark level. The result creates a body-forward, almost Brazil-like taste which is refreshingly distinctive, a little retro, but of unquestionable quality. Asado prides itself on seeking out unusual small lot coffee farms to work with. Combined with their roasting styles, they thankfully ignore many of the monolithic Third Wave clichés.
The milk-frothing here is velvety, but beyond excessive. Their cappuccino comes in what’s arguably a serving bowl that’s nearly the size of your head, suggestive of 1980s wannabe French cafés that focused more on bladder-busting than flavor. Or at least coffee flavor; I never understood why some coffee shops see to adding a sprinkle of coffee flavor to their cappuccino as they would nutmeg or cocoa.
It’s an awesome, historic location with great coffee and a solid espresso. But for milk-based drinks, the resulting coffee flavor is washed out in a sea of milk — so we recommend avoiding those.
Read the review of Asado Coffee Roasters Pickwick in downtown Chicago, IL.
One of the greatest espresso blends on the planet has remained something of a Bay Area secret for the past 23 years. It is almost certain to remain such, as popular tastes have moved on to single origin espresso shots to the pour-over-device-of-the-month to today’s quality-regressive fads being heralded as the forefront of coffee: cold brew (hello, 17th century Kyoto, Japan), nitro coffee, and bored mixologists treating coffee as if it were merely a Torani syrup flavor.
Or to paraphrase Nick Cho: “Second Wave wolves in Third Wave sheep’s clothing“.
All of which makes Josuma Coffee Company and their flagship Malabar Gold blend seem like dinosaurs of a lost age. But if you enjoy an espresso of balance and technical precision, Malabar Gold is a tall order that few American espresso purveyors have been able to match.
Disappointed by virtually all pre-blended green coffee supplies designed for espresso, I first encountered Malabar Gold about a dozen years ago as a home roaster. Buying from off-beat green sources such as Hollywood, CA’s The Coffee Project, the proprietary nature of the Malabar Gold blend strikes you as a false industry secret. For example, purchasing from The Coffee Project requires you to claim your status as a home roaster and not an industry professional.
This makes more sense when you understand Josuma Coffee’s business. Founded by Dr. Joseph John in 1992, they company pioneered the Direct Trade model with India coffee growers a good decade before Intelligentsia came up with the term (and two decades before Intelligentsia became Peet’s Coffee & Tea). They promote themselves largely through industry trade shows and today walk an even balance (i.e., 50/50) between their roasted and unroasted greens coffee businesses.
Over the summer Dr. John’s son, Melind John, invited me down to Josuma’s modest “headquarters” in a Redwood City office park. They had been importing approximately 6 to 7 containers of green coffee from India each year — which most recently has grown to about 9. They store their green coffee in some three different Bay Area warehouses (mostly in the East Bay) and roast in South San Francisco on Mondays.
Their coffee continues to be almost exclusively sourced from India, and most of their blends consist of 3-4 sources. However, Josuma has more recently started seeking out some coffee sources outside of India to aid the flavor consistency of some of their blends and to help round out their offerings to customers — many of them cafés — to provide them with a complete coffee sourcing “solution” as it were.
I’ve found knowledge about India’s coffee to be staggeringly poor in the West. For one, there’s often a presumption that India is purely a British-inspired tea-drinking nation. In South India, there are at least as many, if not more, coffee drinkers than tea drinkers — plus a tradition of it dating back to the 17th century. In 1670, India became the first location in the world outside of Arabia (i.e., Ethiopia, Yemen) to cultivate coffee when the Indian Muslim saint, Baba Budan, smuggled coffee beans from Mocha, Yemen to Mysore, India in what was then considered a religious act.
I joked with Melind that I had encountered the name “Malabar Gold” on multiple occasions around Mysore (officially Mysuru today). But instead of finding the mythical coffee blend, I only encountered locations of a popular chain of jewelry stores.
The great majority of coffee consumption in India isn’t of the “specialty” variety, but that’s also true of the rest of the world. Even so, India — with the Coffee Board of India — have invested heavily in growing and testing quality coffee. That includes wet- and dry-processed arabicas, the unique Monsooned coffee, and some of the highest quality robusta in the world (something you learn as a home roaster if you like a little quality robusta in your espresso blends). And 98% of India’s approximately 250,000 coffee growers remain small growers.
Melind demonstrated some of their own roasts with the two-group La Marzocco FB80 they crate over to trade shows, complete with naked portafilters. Whether straight up espresso shots or Melind’s favorite cortado option, the shot quality was unmistakable.
As quality espresso pioneer and “dinosaur” David Schomer (of Espresso Vivace fame) said at the recent Portland Coffee Fest about Malabar Gold: “This is the only other espresso I’ll drink. And you can quote me on that.” So we will.
Cameron Davies started this small roaster/café in 2013, and it has changed the face of Monterey’s coffee culture ever since. It’s a small café co-located in the artful Lilify shop along busy Lighthouse Ave. — a few blocks down from Happy Girl Kitchen.
Inside the café takes up one side of the building. The Lilify retail space dominates the remainder. There’s a lot of exposed wood, found-art-like wall hangings, and for seating there’s two thick wooden café tables and a lone stool.
While they used to roast locally with a Deidrich IR-7, fights with the local zoning codes have resulted in endless frustration. To work around that, Cameron is now setting up their roasting in Longview, WA (not far from Portland, OR) to be run by her parents. Until then she’s working with select West Coast roasters, such as Seattle’s Kuma Coffee, that don’t require too much equipment adjustment for her roast profile style.
Their two-group lever La San Marco Leva is a find from Phoenix, AZ that was artfully refurbished by her partner, Mike Zimmerer, into something far more decorative. It still operates like a tank — one of the reasons it remains the de facto machine in espresso-obsessed Napoli, Italy.
Cameron, like myself, doesn’t get the point of coffee shops dropping $20,000 on the latest overly-gadgetized espresso machine. Sure, they make great conversation pieces. They can also offer a crutch for new coffee shop owners seeking a fast track towards Third Wave credibility — sort of a Viagra for those seeking out coffee-related dick-measuring contests.
The trouble is that virtually every place employing pressure profiling with these new high-tech machines doesn’t know how to do it right, resulting in shots that we’ve invariably found don’t taste any better. This is something Cameron independently observed herself, and she’d rather pour that additional money into her staff and keeping her business afloat. And with the Leva, she not only finds it cheaper but also much easier to maintain.
As someone who has lived near and worked within the Portland coffee scene for some time, she’s also a fan of Heart and Sterling roasters — which are known for they’re very light (almost overly light) roasting treatments. Where she differs is that she also likes to let roasts gas out for far longer than most — sometimes finding that roasts are optimal several weeks after roasting. 2013 WBC champ Pete Licata recently wrote similar thoughts on this.
The result here with Kuma Ethiopia Aricha espresso (their Red Bear Espresso) is a cherry bomb brightness heavy on fruit but is surprisingly not your typical acid bath. There’s some honey, leather, pepper, a pungent aroma, and a dark, dark crema of short coverage and modest thickness. Served in handmade ceramic cups with water on the side. The milk-frothing here is just OK: a little on the light side.
Read the review of Bright Coffee in Monterey, CA.
This downtown Oakland coffee house sits at the base of the historic Oakland Tribune Building. It’s a small space with ceiling fans and windows that open, a large front window for people-watching over the 13th St. sidewalk at window counter stools, and a few indoor café tables and chairs/benches with a wall of merchandising in the back. In front, there’s also some red sidewalk café table seating.
Inside there are many wooden surfaces, large stone tiles on the floor, and a white, two-group La Marzocco FB/80 with Mazzer grinders. They offer pour-over and Chemex coffee as well.
This alone makes Modern a bit of a novelty for anyone from the U.S. East Coast — where Counter Culture’s combined service and supply deals have been known for their financial strong-arm tactics to achieve distribution exclusivity at most cafés.
Here they pulled their shots three-sips-short with a mottled medium-brown crema and a rather broad flavor of spices, some herbs, and brightness with a bigger kick at the end — but still lacking much heavy acidity. It’s a relatively lively cup, but with a flavor profile that isn’t terribly too distinctive. Served in white notNeutral cups.
Read the review of Modern Coffee at the Tribune Tower in Oakland, CA.
In the 26 years I’ve lived in the Bay Area, I’d never been to Calistoga. Sure, I knew about the touristy mud baths and summer temperatures more conducive for copper smelting than for outdoor barbecues. What I didn’t quite expect was a laid back town that still wears a lot of its history, located in a rather wooded valley.
While the Napa Valley wine culture certainly encroaches on its doorstep, Calistoga has a decidedly different feel than the rest of the Napa Valley vibe — with its food fetishes, wine farming monoculture, lifestyle and housewares boutiques, faux Italian villas, and preponderance of German and Japanese luxury cars. It’s a little closer to a Lake Tahoe mountain town than the quaintly packaged lifestyle branding of a Yountville or St. Helena.
The coffee here can also hold its own. This small café, first opened in 2008, is located just off of Calistoga’s Lincoln Ave. “main street”.
Outside there are metal café table for seating along the sidewalk. Inside there is window stool seating and a few chairs and café tables with a Diedrich roaster smack in the middle; they roast organic, single origin coffees in-house.
Baked goods come from ABC, and they offer a variety of coffee options from cold brew to pour-overs with Clever drippers.
Using a two-group manual lever Astoria machine, they offered an espresso shot from a single origin organic Sumatran — which is a little bit of a bold choice for a smaller town like Calistoga. For example, we could not find such a thing offered retail in Portland, OR, given their obsession with Ethiopian shots supplemented by the occasional Guatemalan or Colombian origin.
The shot had a limited aroma, some strong smoke that hits the olfactory palate quickly, and a medium brown crema of decent heft but still scant on quantity. There was a sharp brightness to the cup with some molasses sweetness and a flavor of dark baking chocolate and spices.
Although the flavors were not in balance and it was clearly a single origin, it emphasized multiple bands of the flavor spectrum. Interesting and good, to say the least. Served in colorful China ceramic cups.
Read the review of Yo el Rey Roasting in Calistoga, CA.