Beginning Barista

I'll have the "five dollar bathroom break"

2011-10-10T18:39:00.000-07:00

I've recently been in conversation with a shop owner about transitioning from using a semi-automatic espresso machine to a fully-automatic one. For the lay-barista, a semi-automatic machine basically means that the machine has a pump on the inside that pushes water through it. Believe it or not, in the olden days of yor, espresso machines had big levers that pushed water through them and, subsequently, into your espresso cup. Nowadays, most machines are automated in some way. A fully-automatic machine does everything besides shine your shoes. The coffee is put into a hopper on top and the machine grinds the beans, doses the right amount, presses the grounds down evenly, and pushes hot water through said grounds.

On the surface it may seem as if the fully-automatic machine would be the most highly sought-after type by baristas, but baristas are a hipster bunch and the automatic is way too "in" to be cool. This is one of the few areas in which I totally agree with the hipsters (in case you were wondering). I cannot stomach the thought of using a "super-automatic" to serve real customers and, while I agree that electronics really clutter up the retro feel of an espresso machine, I have a few other reasons as well.

What if you went to your favorite bar with your buddies on a Friday night looking to have a good time. Well, maybe to hit on Jonny's hot friend, but you can't say that out loud because he's already made it clear that she is off-limits and, while you respect Jonny, you're planning on hitting on her after a few drinks and blaming the alcohol. The point being that you're at a bar. So you coolly stride over to the counter and order an Appletini (don't judge). Then the bartender turns toward a large machine, puts a glass under a spout at the bottom, presses a button, and a thick green liquid oozes into your glass. The bartender then turns to you and says, "that will be five dollars, please." If you felt a turn in your stomach just now, I can explain why. Number one, when I order my Appletini at a bar, I expect the bartender to take the time and energy necessary to convince me that they are performing a magical ritual to summon my drink into existence. Two, there is something about an automatic drink-making machine that says to me, "you just paid five dollars for an extended stay on the toilet in about three hours." These same principles are at work, believe it or not, every time somebody serves you or me from an automatic machine at an espresso bar.

The reason that a similar feeling of dread doesn't come over us when our barista employs the same "insert cup, press button" strategy of drink making is also two-fold. First, the shops that use these machines don't typically design them so customers can see how the drink is being made. Secondly (and probably more importantly), most people don't have any conception of how good it could and should be. Most of our collective experience with coffee revolves around grandma and grandpa's canned coffee or a chain store's version of a latte made of 80 percent sugar, 10 percent bad coffee, and 10 percent mystery ingredient. The fact of the matter is that there are coffee shops that not only have great coffee but employ baristas that create drink magic and make five dollars seem like a great deal. Bottom line: I don't like fully-automatic espresso machines and do yourself a favor: the next time you have to have a Caramel Macchiato, spend a little time finding a great shop that doesn't make you pay five dollars for a trip to the restroom.

porn, twilight, harry potter, justin bieber, star trek, star wars, manga

2011-09-15T08:07:00.000-07:00

Hello everyone,

Firstly, let me say sorry for not writing sooner. Second, let me say that I'm pretty sure it's your fault for not pressuring me to write. I'm not some sort of jovial writer that just loves to sit down and type one out. I need to be kicked in the butt before I'll even log back into my blog. On that note, I've decided that the best way to keep up on my writing is to get some creepy and obsessive fans. You know, the type that will have no ethical problems with hacking into my phone, leaving requests for more blog posts, and the occasional nude picture. The only problem with that approach is I'm not sure how to reach out to the tween-agers, D&D'rs, and Twilight moms that make up the seedy underbelly of groupie culture. Then I started to think, "what do these people love to do in their spare time?" The answer? Use the internet. Posting hate speech in forums, writing stalker mail, and taking revealing-yet-disturbing Myspace pictures are a staple of any creep's social lifestyle.

So, if you're one of the (I'm sure) many people to find my blog by searching Google for the missing piece of your soul, please subscribe! I think you'll find me very stalk-able. I have many public pictures on Myspace and Facebook, and you can leave all of the flaming internet comments you want! In return, I promise that I will submit to your constant badgering and continue to write; even if most of the writing is while filling out requests for restraining orders.

Coffee kills kittens

2011-08-23T09:14:00.000-07:00

When I was a kid, I was afraid of anything that might be the slightest bit good for my health. I avoided eating anything green, soy, or low-fat like it was poison, which was very difficult given my mother's persistence in buying food rich in vitamins and hiding it in my sugar. She would cook broccoli into my brownies and carrots into my cake! The nerve! In retaliation, I decided I would mask everything even remotely good for me in sugar. Every morning when I got a bowl of Chex, it was saturated in enough sugar that looking at it made one feel the onset of diabetes.
"Are we having corn tonight mother? Could you please pass the sugar? No...just give me the bag."

You may be wondering to yourself, "Joshua, dear sir, what does this have to do with coffee?" Well, I've noticed a growing trend in the coffee industry that harkens back to my days as a kid cracked out on sugar. I believe that many people think coffee is good for them. So, in keeping with their childhood rebellions, they want to cover the nasty coffee up with large amounts of unhealthy stuff. A large, extra-sweet, carmel, vanilla, hazelnut, and white-chocolate mocha isn't a drink; it's unresolved childhood angst.

The obvious solution to this pandemic is to conduct a massive campaign aimed at helping coffee drinkers confront their personal aversion to eating healthy food, but I think there is a subtle solution that should not be ignored. We should just make everyone think that coffee is really unhealthy. Think about it. Cigarette boxes have pictures of black lungs on the front that tell you "beware of the smokey death contained in this package" and people love them. Humans are actually very self destructive. If the front of every coffee shop in America had a picture of a cracked-out hobo with brown teeth that read, "this is your life on coffee and -plus- coffee kills kittens," we would be fighting the customers off with a stick. So the next time you're in a coffee shop, don't cover up the taste of your coffee with sugar or excessive amounts of milk. Just remember that coffee kills kittens and I promise it will satisfy your sadistic craving for sugary death. Heck, it's so bad for you that you might even want to quit smoking just to balance things out.

OMG! They're dead!

2011-08-19T09:38:00.000-07:00

A few days ago, I made a latte with dead shots. They weren't even old shots. They weren't on their last legs, in need of a transfusion, or on life support in critical condition. They were dead. For those of you who aren't cued into coffee lingo, a dead shot has supposedly become gross and decomposition-y after having been made and let to sit. Some people say they go dead after 30 seconds and some say a minute. The point is that apparently shots of espresso have the life span of a mayfly, but back to my original point. I made a drink with dead-as-a-mayfly shots and it tasted suprisingly similar to the ones I had made with fresh shots. Actually it tasted the exact same. This got me thinking about what actually makes a shot "die."

In reality, there are only a couple of things that happen to espresso over the course of a few minutes. First, the crema or foam that sits on top of the espresso reintegrates with the liquid. Crema, on its own, contains some of the best flavors and aromatic qualities of the espresso in high concentrations. Drinking it straight can be overwhelming but, it stands to reason, that having the crema reintegrate might actually be a good thing. Second, the espresso cools down. The temperature of espresso has a lot to do with how we taste the various flavors contained within it and, in fact, our taste buds have many microscopic channels called TRPM5 that increase the bud's sensitivity at higher temperatures. If, however, espresso passes a certain temperature (the exact temperature being unique to every person) it will burn our tongues and greatly decrease our ability to taste. Given that espresso typically comes out of the machine at about 200 degrees Fahrenheit, a fresh shot can easily burn off our ability to taste its liquid-y goodness or numb us to its heave-worthy horrible-ness. In essence, a shot that has sat for about a minute may actually be a better representation of the espresso than a fresh one.

I don't know how the rumor of "dead shots" got started but I do know if you work at a shop that serves poor coffee (or poorly serves great coffee) it would be advantageous to let people drink the shots hot. That way their burnt taste buds won't be able to tell them that they're drinking something awful.

Screaming vision

2011-08-16T19:00:00.000-07:00

I recently went to an official Stumptown Coffee Roaster location in downtown Portland, OR. Now, I've been to a couple of shops in my day that served Stumptown coffee but I had never previously been into the belly of the beast. I loved this place. The atmosphere and people screamed "Portland" to me. It was like walking into an episode of Portlandia (if you've never seen Portlandia, look it up on Hulu. It's fantastic). It was a huge space with an understated bar and loud music blaring from ... you guessed it, an honest-to-God vinyl record player. The menu was entirely coffee with a few baked items labeled with prices, in a case. Every barista was sporting gauged ears, hipster looks, and a really chill attitude. There was a line to get a drink for the duration of my visit. This place was busy and it was a coffee lover's paradise; it got me thinking about the business of running a coffee shop.

I haven't been around the coffee industry long but I have already seen several quality shops like this go out of business for lack of customers. It seems like so much of the success in the food and hospitality business is based in dumb luck; nothing, however, could be further from the truth. I think the potential success of any coffee shop can be summed up in three words: location, vision, and location. I've heard the marketplace talk about location a lot. As a matter of fact many -- no -- most articles on starting your own business will come back to location, location, location! but location is one of, in my opinion, two major factors in determining a coffee shop's likelihood of success.

If there is one thing that I can really appreciate about this Stumptown above everything else, it's their distinct and compelling vision. It's not displayed on any of the walls or written on the menu but from the moment you enter their shop you know exactly what they are about. Art and coffee. Maybe an even simpler version would be creativity. Everything in this shop and about this shop just screams creativity. It screams so loud that you cannot shut it out, even with headphones. This distinct vision is what makes this Stumptown Coffee Roasters distinct.

The location of a shop can either amplify or muffle a vision and a vision can do the same for a location. Stumptown's location in downtown Portland puts it at the center of an eclectic metropolis and, in doing so, the town amplifies their vision while the shop reinforces the nature of downtown Portland. The best way to describe how a vision and community can help each other is to think of a chorus of voices, the coffee shop being one voice. If the vision doesn't match what the rest of the voices are saying, it will either have to get much louder, to be heard above the chorus, or be drowned out. If, however, the shop starts joining voices with the community then both will be heard and amplified. The vision will be joined by hundreds or thousands of other voices until it seems to scream out.

In short, to stack the cards in favor of success for a coffee shop one should consider their vision and location. If they do not compliment each other, then one should be altered to fit. In doing this, an owner of a coffee shop can magnify his or her voice in the community by joining with the voices already speaking to create a vision that screams.

Quality on vinyl

2011-08-14T17:25:00.000-07:00

Okay, so I'm at Stumptown in Portland right now and I order an espresso, latte, and scone. Am I a worse person for the fact that I, one, see a man behind the bar with about a day's worth of growth and think "he must be new" and, two, hope that the person pulling my shots has a proper "barista" level beard? There was, however, a person working behind the bar with no facial hair whose gender was in question (turned out it was a girl) so I automatically felt that he or she was more qualified to make coffee than the guy without a beard. Is that bad? I hope not because I'm pretty sure that, every time I go into a new coffee shop, I judge whether or not to get an espresso based on my barista having ears with two or more piercings or at least one piercing gauged 12 or larger. It doesn't stop there. If I walk into a shop that doesn't have eclectic artwork or old/retro furniture but does have a very clean and sterile atmosphere, I feel like bolting for the door.

I don't know if this judgement comes from the specialty coffee industry in the United States having grown up with the grunge movement or from the twenty-somethings that seem to populate most barista positions. All I know is that the oddity of a barista or shop is directly related to their perceived quality. I also know that I am probably vastly limiting myself in my perception of a quality coffee shop. So I promise from here on out to not blow off a coffee place, whether it be a shop or drive-through, based on the Hollister shirt that the barista is wearing. I'll blow them off for having bad coffee. I will say, though, that when I noticed that Stumptown was playing their music on a vinyl record player I also noticed a significant improvement in their espresso.

Seed to cup

2011-08-10T18:38:00.000-07:00

It fascinates me how coffee is brought from being a tiny seed into being in my venti vanilla mocha. It's an unnatural fascination, really. I'm so incredibly fascinated by it that I'm planning on taking a trip to see coffee farms in other countries. I'm so incredibly, dauntingly, fantastically bewitched by the process that I can hardly think of anything else. My job is suffering and that's saying something coming from a barista. Alright, maybe I'm not that fascinated with it, but I do find it interesting. I find it interesting enough to think that you and I (as coffee drinkers) should at least know the basics of what happens from seed to cup. I also hope that by knowing a little more, we can start to appreciate our drinks for what they are. So read on dear Sir or Madame and consider yourself educated.

The coffee bean starts its journey as a shrub in a coffee farm. The typical coffee tree will take about three to five years to start producing cherries and end up being about 10 feet tall, depending on the species. When it does start producing cherries, they are harvested one of two ways. Much like regular cherries, coffee cherries ripen at different times and are often handpicked throughout the season as they ripen. They can also be "stripped" or harvested all at once, either by hand or by machine; the ripe cherries being separated post-harvest. This method typically wastes about a quarter of the cherries.

After they are harvested, the cherries go through a process to remove the pulp from the the seeds or "beans" on the inside. Two common methods of accomplishing this involve leaving the cherries out to dry in the sun or washing the pulp off with water. There is also a thin shell around the beans that must be removed separately during the processing of the cherries. After having been processed, the highest quality beans are typically roasted and brewed by a group of elite, certified, and quality graders. They rate the coffee on a scale of 1-100. Only the highest quality beans end up in a specialty coffee shop. After, the beans are shipped to the roaster. The roaster typically does his or her own evaluation of the coffee upon its arrival. The beans are then roasted into the dark, aromatic beans we think of when we buy coffee. I try to roast my own coffee at home and, trust me, roasting is easy to do but very difficult to do right. If you have ever had a great cup of coffee that came from great beans, the amount of time and dedication that it took to get that into your hand might boggle your mind.

I don't know of many foods that have been cared for, inspected, and selected with the same level of dedication that coffee beans have been. If I were to try to explain the whole process in detail, it would probably fill a decent-sized book. Maybe not a bible or dictionary sized book but probably at least a "first-harry-potter" sized one. So, the next time you go into your favorite coffee shop and order a large vanilla mocha, remember the painstaking process it took to get that coffee into your hand. Maybe then we can start to appreciate coffee for what it really is: fascinating.

I'd like my coffee venti-sized

2011-08-09T09:43:00.000-07:00

Memo to all coffee shops: please decide what drinks are what. I already have to remember the difference between an "Annihilator" and a "Kahlua Kicker" and I don't like having to figure out if your cappuccino is the same as the one across the street. Don't even get me started on a Macchiato. Do you really need your names to be in Italian? Sure, I know venti means 20 but this is the United States and I only speak English!

Okay, maybe I'm being a little harsh. I know that coffee is obviously not something any one company invented and that drinks and terminology evolve with different shops and different cultures. I also know that if somebody wants to call a latte a cappuccino and a hot chocolate a mud pie then that is his or her prerogative. But if I went into a steak house, ordered a rare steak, and they came back with roast duck, I would be somewhat upset. Why can nobody seem to get this right?

I think that, as a barista, I can help to resolve this question. There are, despite what much of our experience says, accepted standards for most coffee drinks. The problem is not the lack of standards. The problem is a lack of knowledge on the part of many baristas. The sad thing is that it's not even their fault. Think about the coffee shops in your area. I'm willing to bet that many of them employ high school and college-aged kids who are trying to pay for school or their winter formal tux. I'd also bet that the extent of their training in coffee was three or four hours of manager-shadowing as they're flung into a bar shift with little preparation. Given all this, I'm impressed that they know a latte from a strawberry smoothie. Would you expect that the chef at your favorite dining establishment to be trained from scratch in three to four hours? Unless your favorite dining establishment lets you "supersize" your dinner, then you're probably glad the chef has an education or a sizable amount of experience to draw from.

If you order your hamburger done "medium well" and the person behind the counter says "we can't do that" or asks "what does that mean?" then you are probably at a fast food restaurant. If your barista can't tell a macchiato from a mocha then you might consider finding a coffee shop with properly trained baristas or, if you don't mind the confusion, you might consider drastically lowering your expectations. All that said, I'm still upset about the venti thing.

Tasting coffee

2011-08-09T09:34:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I received a response to my post on why you should drink straight espresso shots. The response in question commented that I should do a blog on how to tell a good shot from a bad one and what to look for as far as taste in espresso. I have to admit, I'm embarrassed that I didn't think to include that information within the post and decided to correct the error. Here it goes:

There are five things that we can taste on our tongue. Bitterness, saltiness, sour-ness, and sweetness are the ones that most people are familiar with. The one you may not be familiar with is called umami, though, you have most-likely tasted it. This taste can best be described as savory or meaty such as you would taste in soy sauce or cheese. This taste is commonly associated with aged or fermented foods. Along with these five tastes, we can also feel body and acidity on our tongues. When it comes to body, think about the difference between 2% milk and half and half. One feels thicker or heavier on your tongue because one has more body. Acidity is essentially the sensation of dryness that the coffee leaves under the edges of your tongue and on the back of your palate. If you drink wine, think about how a pinot gris enters your mouth, and, while the tastes in your mouth absorb, you'll be able to understand a high acidity.

These five different tastes plus body are going to be the main basis for evaluating a shot of espresso for quality. A good shot should have a balance of all five tastes. Some espresso may taste sweeter or heavier than others but you should still be able to taste all five. In a bad shot of espresso, one of these tastes will drastically overpower the others. The most common example is a shot that tastes very sour. If it tastes so sour that you cannot taste any sweetness, then the shot was not pulled correctly. As a side note, the creamy, brown stuff on top of your shot is called "crema;" which a good shot should have, but it will maintain a sour taste to it. The crema adds substance, or body, to your shot of espresso. You may want to swish the coffee a little in your cup or sip under the crema to avoid having a lot of it in your mouth without much of the espresso. You can also use these principles to evaluate regular coffee. The next time you have a cup, think about what you are tasting in the coffee, how the five tastes work with each other, and what kind of body and acidity you feel in your mouth.

You may be thinking to yourself, "Hey Josh, I've heard people refer to coffee as tasting nutty or floral. Where does that come in?" First of all, stop interrupting me when I'm writing. Secondly, the taste buds on our tongues are not the only things interacting with the coffee when we're tilting back that cup of joe. Our sense of smell is what gives us a nutty or fruity sensation. So, along with taste, the next time you're in your favorite coffee shop, take a good whiff of the coffee before you drink it. You can also help amplify this sensation by making really annoying sipping noises. As you sip, the coffee turns to a kind of mist which spreads it across your whole tongue and sends some fragrances up your nose. I recommend this method because it makes people stare at you at which point you can explain how you're tasting the coffee and impress everyone with your extensive knowledge.

Before I go, I'd also like to address a concern I commonly hear as a working barista. The concern has to do with how the perfect shot of espresso is pulled or how the perfect cup of coffee can be brewed. You see, there are all sorts of industry standards that try to address this question. Some say that you should use "so much coffee" or the shots should come out in "this" much time. However, at the end of the day, taste is what really matters. If you brew me a cup of coffee in a butter churn and it has good balance and flavor then more power to you. I'm not against standards but if you're the kind of person who goes into a coffee shop and complains because the shots took 30 seconds instead of 26, then you should taste the shots and, if they aren't balanced, go ahead and complain. But if your shots are balanced and full of flavor then shut up and enjoy your coffee. To everybody else: have fun with your new-found knowledge and try lots of coffee!

Straight. No chaser.

2011-08-08T08:49:00.000-07:00

I think that you should try drinking a straight shot of espresso. Well, correction, you should try drinking a good shot of espresso. I'd like to make something clear about myself right away: I do not drink espresso for pleasure. I'm not a person that generally enjoys how espresso tastes. I would even go so far as to say that most people (including most baristas) don't generally drink espresso for fun. I think there is a common myth that people who drink espresso are in a class of coffee drinker that makes them akin to Buddhist monks in their dedication to coffee. They spend their entire day recycling, eating tofu, and drinking espresso. This, however, is not the case. These people don't enjoy drinking espresso but they do like good espresso and, believe me, there is a distinct difference. I remember trying espresso for the first time a few years ago. I cringed and griped and whined. It tasted like drinking a moldy Gusher but, since I was about to become a barista, I felt unnaturally obligated to continue drinking it. Every time that I went to a new coffee shop, I would order an espresso and squint through at least two sips before I threw it away and waterlogged myself. I also remember the first time that I tried a good shot of espresso. I went through my usual pre-espresso routine. I loosened up my muscles, smelled the drink to warn my stomach that it was not going to like what was about to happen, and then plugged my nose while I sipped. The difference that time was the distinct lack of sour-ness and bitterness. It tasted sweet and spicy at the same time. It was an intense taste experience and I loved it.

A person that loves espresso is a little like a person that loves to go wine tasting. They may not enjoy guzzling box wine but they do enjoy the depth of flavor contained in an exquisitely prepared wine. Did you know that a good wine can contain up to 400 distinct flavors in every sip? Did you also know that a good espresso can contain up to 600 distinct flavors? When you drink a well prepared espresso, it should taste like an explosion of flavors in your mouth and not a literal explosion. That is why almost nobody that drinks espresso enjoys just any couple of shots thrown their way. So you should try to drink espresso; not just any espresso. You should try really good espresso.

An introduction to me and beards

2011-08-06T18:47:00.000-07:00

I have wanted to start a coffee blog for about three years now. The problem is that every time I've started down this trail, I'd start second-guessing my motives and experience. It feels like, while I do really enjoy coffee, there are so many people out there who "get it" and who "know more about it" than I do. A great example of this being my coffee-mentor Marcus. He has traveled to coffee farms, roasted coffee in all manner of machines, and can observe and taste coffee in a way that simultaneously makes me admire and despise him. He even has a sweet beard that gives off the "I don't trim my beard because I've been too busy driving my Volvo into the jungles of Costa Rica" vibe. I think, to be a true barista, one needs to have a sizable amount of facial hair. I may be off-base on that point but most of the baristas I've met have had them and, while I don't want to get into the debate of whether the chicken or egg came first, I do know that great baristas tend to have beards. That's all I'm saying, and having said that I should point out that I do not own either a Volvo (anymore) or an unkempt beard and for these reasons have felt grossly unprepared to start a coffee blog.

I'm just an average-looking white guy who loves the art of coffee. I am not a guy that you would pick out of a crowd as somebody qualified to discuss the finer aspects of ristretto shots. I am just a person that loves learning and this blog is a place for the person that goes to their local coffee shop, orders a grande, and doesn't understand why the barista gives them the "hate stare."