frozen wave

i've been enduring one of those runs where i just can't seem to make myself a decent cup of coffee. it happens to the best of us at times, i know. it's been happening to me this week. cup after cup, morning after morning for the last week have just been...blah. roasts are good. greens are good. proportions and other fundamentals are good. i just can't seem to get it together. chemex. press. hario. aeropress. melitta pour over. no matter. it's just...off.

i'll get it together and have a great cup soon, i'm sure. just tossing that out there to the wind/ether.

have you ever had a frozen wave of mediocre cups by your own hand?

you can't fight city hall

...or so the saying goes. i'm not sure the etymology of that saying, but the meaning is clearer to me these days in my long odyssey to become a law-abiding member of the san antonio business community.

mostly my frustrations come from what appears to me as a bunch of folks mired in thick bureaucracy of regulations and of mind. i guess you can get so stuck in a rut of how things have always been that it gets difficult to see past that.

the five regular readers of this blog are familiar with my journey to get my permits for our new roasterie. the good news is that we have not been asked to stop doing what we're (already) doing by the city until we come into compliance. the bad news is the list often seems to grow longer with each visit and concordant sign off by some city official, rather than shorter.

case in point: the health department. faithful readers of this blog will note some months back my complaint that caused me to have to spend $500 on a sink to wash a $5 scooping pitcher. another item on that list that the health department left with me that day was to have smooth drop ceiling tiles (i.e., impervious to moisture accumulation) over said sink area because of the possibility of moisture from the sink (that is used when i wash out that scoop once a week or whatever) creating mold spots overhead. no problem. some of the tiles in our place are actually already of the smooth variety of which they speak. i could simply trade out the ones over the sink and have done with it.

not so fast, say they of the department of health. when i arranged to have our final inspection with them, they (after two appointments, mind you, made by me and two no-shows, no-calls by them) said i need to replace ALL of the tiles overhead anywhere "food is being prepared," meaning basically over 3/4 of the roasterie. this is because, again, of the "moisture problem" as they were wont to call it. being the tightwad (and cynic) that i am, i naturally took it upon myself to gain some clarification from them as to exactly what moisture they considered to be a problem in a roasting business that has as one of its main necessities the consistent absence of excess moisture. i refrained from pointing out that the only real moisture in this place came from the item they insisted i purchase and install: the sink. further, i felt i needed some focus as to how moisture was such a problem in a roasting operation when roasters, by explicit design, are meant to eliminate what little moisture the food (in our case, coffee beans) have, on the way to a completely dry product. roasting, by definition, i explained, is the very process of going the opposite way of moist. "kind of like peanuts," i offered, which is more or less how i view my scenario, i explained, seeing how most of the time i feel as though i work for them (peanuts, that is). blank stare from behind glassy eyes. the inspector's sense of humor was about as dry as, well, about as dry as the atmosphere here in the roasterie, i guess. but no matter. off to the nearest home improvement store i would now have to go to buy the outrageously expensive, super-deluxe, ultra-dry, moisture fighting ceiling tiles. cha-ching. down the drain go a few hundred more bucks.

then the inspection wraps. the inspector writes up my to-do list (again with me getting the feeling of my list growing longer rather than shorter) and the bill at the bottom of the form to get my permits comes to an additional several hundred bucks. when i inquire as to the nature of these extra, unmentioned-until-now costs, the inspector blithely quipped, "oh, that's for your food permit."

me: [insert sound of needle screeching on vinyl] "my what?"

them: "your food permit...so you can serve coffee."

me: "er, but we...don't...serve 'coffee' here. we sell coffee beans here. no liquids."

them: "yes, but this is a coffeehouse and you'll need a food permit to serve coffee here."

me: "er, actually it's a coffee roasting company. we have no plans to serve any liquid coffee or any other foods at this place--only to roast coffee and sell whole bean coffee here."

them: "right. that's why you need a permit."

me: "why again?"

them: "because you're serving food."

me: [in my quiet but firm voice, trying to crack the syllogism] "ma'am, i'm not trying to be insolent here, but i just want to understand and to be understood. we're not actually serving food. we're selling food people take home to serve themselves. the whole reason you don't see any tables and chairs and local art on the walls and cups and lids, or hear jazz playing in the background and stuff like that is because, as per the state guidelines, whole bean coffee is not considered a food because you can't immediately consume it on the premises after purchase. we purposely are not a coffeehouse because we wanted to avoid these very detailed and unnecessary (and expensive) food inspections. however, i hear you saying that i need to get a food permit anyway despite what the state tells me, and honestly, that's a little bit perplexing to me because it seems to countermand the explicit state descriptions on what is and is not considered a food, let alone add an exceeding amount of frustration to my whole business planning process. we've been very purposeful in our plans and frankly all of this stuff turns it on its ear."

them: "well, sir, i can see your frustration and i'm sorry for that. but rules are rules. don't shoot the messenger. i'm just doing my job."

me: "i can see that. well, alright, hit me with the to-do list and the bill, i guess."


and that was that. you. can't. fight. city. hall.

i guess i'll head down there soon, pay for my permits, arrange to have my new space shuttle ceiling tiles inspected, and, whilst i'm there, invite everyone down there to come visit us and get a drink at the grand opening of our new coffeehouse. i mean, if you can't beat 'em...make lemonade [?] or some such saying like that.

post-it to self: you love coffee

i'm not a caffeine addict. i drink and sell coffee for the love of it--for its taste and for its ability to floor me with beauty.

so it has been a difficult several days here with (what has come to be known as) the phoenix project and the attempt to maintain operations at their normal pace.

and in the frenzy i realized . . . i haven't had a cup of coffee in over three days. now seriously, i know what you may be thinking when i announce i'm not caffeine-enslaved: "DE-nial." but three days and no adverse effects and no, "gee, i'd like a cup of coffee"? proof positive, at least, that i was one distracted fellow.

and so this morning as i dusted off my chemex and went through my ritual steps for a morning coffee i began to realize my hiatus.

and the coffee . . . maybe it had been too long; but my cup was the sweetest, most insanely clear fruit i can recall having in, well, a long time. a great reminder of the sunshine coffee brings to the lives of so many. for the taste of it, not the drug of it. a great reminder of what it's really all about, what i got into this business for in the first place.

"FIRE IN THE HOLE!", or, skyrocketing roasting profile comes to an abrupt and powdery end

they say it happens to everyone, that there are only two kinds of roasters--those who have had a fire, and those who will.

last night at approximately 1900 hours we joined the ranks of the former group in what was a minor but still disappointing episode of pyrotechnics.

as the regular seven or eight readers of this blog know, we have been building a 20-25 lb capacity roaster for some months. said roaster has been in the roasterie for the last couple months getting some of her final tweaks and touch ups put in place. i have also been consuming the 300+ lbs of "practice greens" i had purchased some time ago in order to help break in the machine and to learn its mechanics at differing volumes of coffee, as well as to continue to troubleshoot certain areas during simulated live batch runs. (this practice coffee is not getting sold, or even tasted really. it's simply fodder for learning.) last night i was in the roasterie for a quiet night of more work on the machine when the meltdown occurred.

i won't bore you with all the gory details of what went wrong when and where. suffice it to say that our technical design, while a very good one, will continue to need some tightening and adjusting as the machine continues to "break in." i am thankful, though, that my nigh unto religious equipment cleaning and maintenance schedule--in that, "take care of the goose that lays the golden eggs" kind of way--has meant no crazy fires in odd nether regions of ducting, and i hope this is the worst it ever gets.

naturally, this all happens a week after my engineer has left for the summer.

meantime, last night was a mixture of disappointment, frustration and, in a strange sense, excitement at experiencing something i've never yet experienced. unlike many roaster fires i've heard of that happen very quickly and leave the roast-person in a state of flux as events unfold fast and furious, i was well aware of the potential for the fire from an early stage and was even able to observe it for a couple minutes before finally deciding to snuff it out when it became obvious it wouldn't simply expend itself. i was lucid, to wit, even wide-eyed at "my first fire" until i realized the fire probably was going to go on for a bit if i didn't intervene. enter...the fire extinguisher. (i hate that white powder. it seems like such a failure, even though, as in our case, a couple tiny bursts on the trigger really, really get the job done.) i have heard from other roasters that it isn't so much the fire--which in this case was completely contained in the burn chamber space below the drum and in no danger of spreading--as the ancillary damage the fire's excess heat begins to cause. this was true in our case as well and this morning's task is to disassemble the parts of the roaster that were affected by the heat last night and to observe firsthand what damage the heat did and, hopefully, repair and improve them.

roaster fire. check. done it. hopefully i can tick that off the list now for good as i now go in today to work on eliminating by design that flaw i knew was there but didn't know was there in that quantitative way.

blah, blah, blah. we had a fire at HQ last night. we're all safe and sound, but now we've got cleanup and fixin' to do.

guilt by association, or, "can i get a venti clover, please?"

hard to quantify it exactly, but seeing this...


feels a little like the first time i saw this:
note the binders around his wrists.

let it ride

just a quick post to say THANK YOU to all the people i know directly who have donated to the carlos and edwin garcia martin memorial fund through brown. so far you have donated close to $750 to help juana and her remaining family move through life without their husband, father, brother, son.

naturally, money does not make the world go round. and it can never keep the bed beside you warm, nor recreate the laugh of a high schooler. but thank the good Lord above that so many of you have given a little bit from your pocketbooks (something relatively easy for us rich nortenos to do) to smooth out some of the rocky roads ahead for this widow and family.

peace be on you.

post meeting

there's been a lot of talk lately about the moves starbucks has been making since the re-succession to the throne of mr howard schultz. my friend-in-coffee sarah wrote a nice piece the other day about starbucks move to close its stores this week for three hours in order to retrain its employees ("partners") about the importance of good espresso beverage making technique.

after reading tonight over on the texas coffee people site a letter from "the inside" about the general contents of the meeting i got excited and began craving one of my favorite beverages from the siren while i was still working there: the double short cappuccino.

cast your mind. it's 9pm and your humble bloggerspondent finishes reading mr schultz's part about how the company has lost its focus by focusing too much on money, how the espresso is all-important and the three things every barista was going to promise to do to right the ship. customer is always right. check. espresso recalibrated to 19 seconds. okay, a definite move in the right direction. check. milk steamed to exacting standards to produce perfect microfoam every time, for each and every drink. check. i grabbed my keys and told my beautiful wife i'd be back. it was time for a little field experiment. what better time to try to get as good a drink as possible than in the immediate days after every north american starbucks store completely closed for three hours to focus on one thing and one thing only--the quality of their espresso beverages?

off to my nearest starbucks i went. as i approached the door and surveyed the static cling signage greeting my eyes i immediately felt the pangs of possible regret: on both doors was a cling displaying the words, "the neighborhood's best espresso." okay, maybe it was more eye-rollage than regret; but at any rate i figured that's what i was there to determine for myself, so in i went.

now, i have long been an advocate of the not-so-well-known-anymore cup size at starbucks known as "short." time was that the sizes went, "short," "tall" and "grande." along came "venti" (tm), and off went "short" from the menu. you could still get 'em if you asked. only you had to ask, and no one asks any questions at starbucks--probably out of fear that it might slow down the mile long line at 7:34am. still, those blessed eight ounces were often the exact size of liquid i was craving, especially when i was craving a morning cappuccino. since starbucks espresso is not really known for being interesting or even assertive aside from having a very bitey characteristic to it, i would most often buttress my short cappuccino to a double short to help at least bring the espresso to milk to foam ratio a little more into balance.

being the perfectionist that i was/am, when i was at the helm of my own starbucks store i trained and retrained my staff on the perfect way to create velvety microfoam; on the importance of steaming milk only to order; on how to free pour the perfect cappuccino, latte or mocha to within two one-hundredths of a pound by the scale every time; on the necessity of tasting the shots at least once per shift and recalibrating the espresso machine as needed to get a full 19 seconds from first visual out of each shot. (back then i had no idea about rich, sweet and intense espresso--i only knew the starbucks way, which was 13-17 seconds...which we promptly ignored to get a touch more umph out of our shots.)

my point with that last two paragraphs was to establish my own credworthiness on knowing what a starbucks double short cappuccino should look, smell and taste like.

so how did i fare on my trip down the street? in three words: not super well. i walked in, was greeted by two baristas laughing with each other about whatever inside joke they were both in on, waited about thirty seconds for them to stop joking and acknowledge my existence on this earth as a paying customer, and greeted the barista with my order: one double short cappuccino with milk steamed to 150F, please.

after another 10 seconds of laughing--i'm not sure whether at me or still toward this inside joke i came in on the fumes of--the barista rang up my beverage, still snickering, and handed my cup to the barista at the espresso machine.

this is where things really went south, for not only must this cappuccino probably now hold some sort of land speed record for quickest prep time, it was all-wrong on a number of levels. level one: the shots must've pulled about as long as it took barack obama to endorse president bush's doctrine of preemption in his debate the other day in ohio. level two: there was no steaming of milk. it had already happened. my guess is that when i asked for milk at 150F the barista on bar simply read the thermometer in the milk leftover from the previous drink and thought, "voila! this one will be easy. no work involved." no work, that is, if you exclude the work of actually scooping a heaping helping of milk foam with her spoon into my cup and handing it to me. level three: the look of the milk was just so wroooong. fish eyeballs. atlaspheres. whatever you want to call 'em, they were there in abundance on the top of my drink. huge bubbles that can only come from aerating milk to within an inch of its life. level four: the smell of the milk. argh! resteamed milk has its own unique smell. maybe it's reconstituted scaldation, but the burnt pudding aroma is not to be desired upon your worst enemy. and yet here i was, $3.24 (plus a $1 tip, i might add) lighter, having to endure this pain, this unbearable pain. and that was before i actually even took the first sip.

about that sip. i cannot here in the interest of keeping this a family-friendly blog describe the sensory experience that passed over my personhood as i got into my vehicle, removed the lid and took my first taste of this "cappuccino." even the thought of the thought is nigh unto unbearable. suffice it to say that the starbucks espresso profile has a mighty grip on what it means to be "deep roasted."

i'm not a complainer. i have never been able to get comfortable around the prospect of myself actually walking a drink back in, telling the barista the why's and werefore's of what's wrong with my drink and demanding another in its stead. i've always simply prefered to suck it up, upper lip stiffened, accepting the outcome whatever it may be as a learning experience. disappointed within myself, i thought i should at least give starbucks a second chance. ironically enough, i knew from experience that this company that has made its name on consistency would almost surely provide me with a diametrically different cappuccino experience in a store not but a few short miles away.

i was right. as i walked into the second store on my evening jaunt i was greeted not with exclusionary inside jeers but with a genuine smile and a courteous greeting. having been to both these stores on several occasions i knew that this second store, while being a little more friendly, was often inferior in production quality. and since every problem is a management problem, i chalked it up to the district manager's decision to stock this second store with a less-experienced, less customer service savvy manager, someone who could fill the post in a sort of starter role as he/she gained experience before being moved into a higher volume, higher profile store, such as the first store i visited. well, somebody forgot to inform me that the managers at these two stores must have either a) switched places, or b) switched skill levels; because the second store had hustling baristas who took my order speedily and took care to obviously follow the standards outlined in the meeting they had just had.

as an aside, i thought it a nice touch that the second store had chosen for its coffee of the day board design to write in bold letters, "OUR PROMISE: TO MAKE YOUR DRINK PERFECTLY OR TO REMAKE IT UNTIL YOU TELL US IT'S RIGHT." the board was then signed by the dozen or so baristas that worked there. bravo.

so i ordered my drink, a double tall cappuccino with milk steamed to 150F. the barista kindly acknowledged my drink and attempted to finish quickly the last bit of espresso machine maintenance he was absorbed with when i approached the counter before getting on with my drink. no problem. he was already in the middle of it, i thought. seconds later he asked me, "you said double tall, right?" no, i politely corrected: double short. no problem quoth he and went to wash out the milk pitcher. again he stopped to ask me a question, "milk to 150, right?" yup, i nodded, and off he went. carefully he steamed the milk, creating the appealing whisper of milk as it is first aerated, then submerged to finish steaming. with a careful eye on his milk thermometer, he turned off the steam wand at precisely the right temperature, perfect for immediate consumption. next was time for shots. 13 seconds from first visual. not so great. had he not been paying attention to that part of the meeting? no, in actuality, he had, for no sooner did the shots finish than he dumped those shots, rinsed the shot glasses and tried again. this time, 17 seconds. still not as long as i would've liked but survivable, especially considering all else thus far in this second store had been most pleasant. i even noticed the conspicuous absence of the "neighborhood's best espresso" stickers on the doors. surely they must've just not arrived yet at this store. after all, this is standardizationstarbucks.

the verdict on the second drink? much, much better. a world of improvement in visuals, olfactoryness and in the overall atmosphere of the store. and then came the clincher. when it came time to pay the barista actually just shook his head slightly, waved his hand in a sort of half-stop manner and said, "don't worry about it. i asked you way too many questions about your drink. i should've been paying better attention to you as a customer." what?!? what was this? i was taken aback. the look on my face must've surely been one of shock and awe. i was...genuinely surprised and delighted by the actions of this barista. my only recourse was to dump the money i was going to use to pay for the drink directly into the tip jar. and even THEN i was pleasantly surprised as he said, "hey man, that's not really necessary. i appreciate it a lot. thanks." whoah.

at this point i had to say something. while i felt ridiculous about revealing details of my evening's field experiment i knew some sort of compliment was in order if for no other reason than to solidly accept and reinforce the good vibe i was getting from what so many now call the cold call of the sterile siren. i took one sip of my velvety foam and said to the barista, "i just have to say thank you. this is the best double short cappuccino i have received at a starbucks in a long time." he acknowledged the compliment, thanked me once more and bade me farewell for the evening. as i began to turn for the door the only other thing i could muster in praise went something like, "looks like the little meeting worked, eh" and immediately upon the sound leaving my vocal cords i had almost wished it hadn't been uttered for fear of sounding condescending. yet to my surprise my hirsute compliment was met with a gracious and genuine smile and a, "you bet. thanks again for coming in. have a great night, sir." wow. surprise and delight is back in business at big green.

back in the vehicle i now had my two cappuccinos side by side to compare and, well, let's just say that once i got a really good drink of my second cappuccino, not even the amazing vibe and perfect milk foam was enough to overcome the vampire bite of such dark roasted espresso, leading me back to the maxim that a house is only as sturdy as its foundation. as both drinks cooled to about the same level on my drive back home, i could scarcely tell the difference between the first and second, save for the lingering remnants of the first drink's scalded milk peeking out from the shriekingly bitter double shots of espresso i called for. alas, this was starbucks after all, i reminded myself. and while i did catch a glimpse of the former days of the old gray mare's now faded coffee and customer service glory, it was as fleeting as, well, probably as fleeting as was the espresso's crema itself.

in conclusion i would have to say that although mr schultz is to be highly commended for his demonstrative retaking of the reigns into a radically public and different direction than his company has been earning its recent reputation for, starbucks will have to be equally singular about pursuing quality roasting profiles to go along with the other changes. simply lengthening the shot times is not going to cut it, although cut through my mouth with their bitterness they did--right to the gums. barring a radical change in actual espresso taste, no amount of training or retraining is going to get me back into the doors of a starbucks again, no matter how nice the barista is. and it's certainly no enticement back through the doors for the three minute, lingering inside joke sneers i would almost certainly have at least a 50/50 chance of enduring at any starbucks within driving distance.

field experiment now complete, i walked in the door, climbed the stairs and glided into the room where my wife was to have her opportunity for drink inspection. the differences in drinks were obvious upon the first eyeballing: the first drink was still visibly marred with globe bubbles while the second still had remnants of what was once glorious microfoam. [see drinks pics above, in order of appearance.] she nodded her approval of the second's foam. and then...the sip. it was like reading the directions on a shampoo bottle. view. smell. sip. find disappointment in the espresso. repeat.

repeat.

repeat.

and repeat a million times tomorrow and every day hereafter for big green.

i guess somehow despite all the store closings and promises made to make changes for the better, the more things change, the more they stay the same.