Sunday, February 08, 2009

Pittsburgh: Mid-Atlantic Regionals


Rich Westerfield's interpretation of a Primanti Brothers sandwich. Savory.

Barista competitions are strange, but interesting slices of a life in coffee. Gather a bunch of really geeky coffee people and let them do their thing for a couple of days. It's simple and relatively harmless fun that's usually done outside of the public eye.

When you really get into the competition scene, you invariably end up asking yourself, at some point in time, why? Why am I involved with this group of strange, odd and sometimes egotistical and selfish group of narcissists? Am I a self-loathing, egotistical and selfish narcissist as well?


The ingredients in Amber Sather's "a signature drink in two ways."

I was reminded why I got involved with this scene on Friday morning.

For the past couple of weeks, I've been helping Allie Caran, former Artifact Coffee slash former Spro and current Woodberry Kitchen barista, prepare for the Mid-Atlantic Regional Barista Competition. We didn't do heavy, hard-core trainings. Just casual, relaxed and brief sessions that were more about getting into the right mindset about competing (i.e. not like some former champions) and what she wanted to achieve.


Jeremy Sterner's winning Latte Art Throwdown pour.

Whenever I help someone prepare, it's less about my beliefs in competition and more about developing a method for the barista's personal philosophies. What is the goal? Is it win at all costs like some competitors and companies? If that's the case, I'm not the right person for that job. But if the message is to share knowledge and passion while performing at the best level possible then I'm interested. Hell, I'm downright excited. I'm tired of all the BS politics that goes on within the coffee business. I left the Hollywood system to get away from that.


Handmade wooden belt buckle.

Friday morning was the competitors meeting. After a quick (or not so quick) mile on the treadmill, I head down to the competition space to meet Allie and sit in on the meeting. Outside of the space is the "fourth machine", that extra espresso machine set up so that the public can get a taste for some of the coffees being made in the competition. Working on that machine is Allie, Nikolas and a couple of other first-time baristas. They're going over the Nuova Simonelli Aurelia espresso machine, comparing notes, sharing stories and sharing knowledge and the fact that this is their first time and they're scared shitless.

I hung back for a moment before approaching because I was savoring the moment. A new generation of competition-slash-barista professionals is upon us. These three were a sampling of the next generation in coffee. A new group of baristas who will spend the next few years making and building their reputations. It brought back good memories.


Oranges in the mist.

It was exactly five years ago that I started out in the competition-slash-Third Wave scene. 2004. Daryn Berlin and I shared a table in Atlanta during the USBC. Andy Newbom was some wild-haired blonde guy who kept babbling on about his latest coffee experiment. Sandy Hon busied herself trying to keep everyone from going in sixty different directions. Amber Sather seemed hell-bent on driving everywhere in Intelligentsia's VW Bug. Phuong Tran still had short hair (though it had a slight bob to it). Miguel Meza was that quirky guy from Prince's hometown. Bronwen was still the same. And there was that crazy Korean guy driving all over Atlanta in a yellow Mustang convertible.


A Fozzy-looking Daryn Berlin getting wild.

Those were good times and it's amazing how things have changed. As I watched Allie and her new friends, I realized that they were us just a few years ago and I wondered where they would all be in the coffee world in five years.

The competition itself was good. Once again, they worked it as a Mid-Atlantic/Northeast regional, holding both competitions concurrently, sharing the space. The host company, Kiva Han Coffee, did a great job staging the competition at the Marriott North hotel outside of Pittsburgh. Through advertising and developing a consumer coffee and food tasting event with the competition, they attracted a large group of regular (non-coffee professional) people attending the event and watching the competition. The crowds were larger than we've seen at the United States Barista Championships - at that one usually has a coffee trade show attached to it. Telling indeed.


The new Coffee Lord of Washington DC: Ryan Jensen.

Since it was her first time, Allie was nervous. Down right scared, to be honest. But she's a skilled barista with a great personality and a passion for the craft. The hard part was getting her over the nerves and the unknown having never competed before.

In the end, I think she performed brilliantly. She was nervous. She was scared. She let it show. She was visibly intimidated by the judges and the experience. During our practice session, I remember thinking that she's either going to perform brilliantly or go down in a ball of flames. There would be no middle ground. It wouldn't be one of those boring, droll presentations featuring memorized and recited lines. It would be dynamic, fun and interesting - or a complete and utter disaster.


Working the hotel room meth lab.

While I'm typically a blunt and straightforward kind of person, I almost never tip my hand when I'm thinking thoughts like these. I don't want to place the cloud of question in anyones' mind. We keep moving forward. We keep working towards our goal. For me, the goal isn't to win. It's to show and show well. Share the knowledge of the ingredients and share the passion for our craft. I think Allie's goals are aligned with my own in many ways, which makes it wholly rewarding to work with her.

All barista competitors are nervous when they take the stage. I know I am. The moment she started, it was full speed ahead. Great enthusiasm, great passion and great personality. It just shows. It comes through. And it's not something you can teach or coach - it has to be there naturally. It's so common to watch a barista competition and all of it sounds scripted and rehearsed.


The last moments before the Finals.

During her presentation, she dove right in. Then the nervousness built to a crescendo and she had to take a moment to compose herself, commenting "I can do this" before pulling herself together and pushing forward. It's surprising. It's unexpected. It's honest - and that's endearing to both the judges and the audience. It's also the sphincter moment because you really don't know if she's going to make it or if this is her last stand - and we're only a minute and twenty seconds into the presentation!


MARBC Finalists await their fate.

But she did fine. She pulled through and performed brilliantly.

And in the end, she made it into the finals and took fifth place against the most seasoned and experienced competitors in the region. Not bad for your first outing.



Cascara-infused pop rocks wrapped in edible cascara film.



The wait.



Showtime. Allie describes the components of the signature drink.



Explaining the signature drink to a record audience.



Post performance glow.

Friday, February 06, 2009

Lobster Du Jour, Part Two


Pouring the new mix into the espresso.

The pursuit of lobster continues. This time without the drama of death and destruction.

At Alex's suggestion, I'm adding white chocolate to the base mix in low percentages to smoothen out the flavors. Ran four variants, all with surprising results. By doing so, I'm noticing really wonderful cocoa butter aromatics mingling with the lobster and coffee. The flavors are definitely smoothening out and are better defined on the palate. The lobster is lingering and pleasant and the bitterness of the coffee is muted.

I think we're definitely headed in the right direction. Next to find the right garnishes and service ware.


Pulling the espresso into a mix variant.


A sampling in an oval service piece.

Thursday, February 05, 2009

Not As Hot



As I sit here plugging away at all of the things that need to be finished before I head off to Pittsburgh in the morning, I decided to bust out a jar of Sadie's Salsa. While I was in Albuquerque, Maria called (a different one) asking if I would bring some jars of Sadie's Hot Salsa home for her. Sure, why not?

In addition to Maria's jars of salsa, I bought a couple extra for myself. A jar of "Hot" and a jar of "Not As Hot." I opened the "Not As Hot" today.

Now, I don't know what these New Mexico people consider "Hot" because this "Not As Hot" salsa is tearing me to shreds.

I've never thought of myself as a sissy but this is some hot stuff. So much so that I'm now scared of opening the "Hot" version. Even though I'm sweating, my mouth is ablaze in a hellish fury and I'm in no condition to drive, this stuff tastes darn good. It's delicious - in a burning in hell kinda way.

Here's to hoping the pain subsides.

Tuesday, February 03, 2009

Thinking Ketchup


A Bottle Of Ketchup For The Winter.

Even though I hardly ever eat it, the refrigerator was getting suspiciously low on ketchup this past week. Instead of running out to the store to buy another bottle of Heinz, why not make it myself? Why rely on the corn syrupy sweetness of commercial ketchup when I've got some fantastic ingredients around the house ready to go?

Surprisingly, making ketchup is relatively simple. Just some fresh tomatoes, peppers, onion and spices. Toss them all together, simmer for an hour, blend et viola! You've got ketchup.

Being the middle of winter, I'm suspicious of any tomatoes I find at the markets. Luckily, I processed and vac bagged a bunch of tomatoes from Martin's Farm at the end of summer. While they're not the most vibrant color of red, they're big on sweet, delicious flavor. We'll need two pounds of tomatoes.

The recipe I have calls for Anaheim Chiles, but why go out and search for them when I still have those beautiful roasted Hatch Green Chiles I brought back from New Mexico? I'll use those.

Rough chop the tomatoes, chiles and a medium sized onion and toss it all into a sauce pan. Add a crushed garlic clove and a sachet of "Secret Ketchup Spice" and simmer for an hour. Season with salt and pepper to taste.

Once you've simmered the lot for an hour (and softened the onions in the process) transfer everything to a blender and puree until smooth and creamy. On my VitaMix, it takes about three minutes. Think about the consistency of ketchup - that's what you want.

After you've pureed everything together, you can strain it through a mesh strainer. I prefer a thicker ketchup and leave it as-is. Transfer the puree back into the saucepan and simmer again for another hour. This time you're thickening ketchup and evaporating moisture. It will also slightly brown the ketchup but if you want a deeper red then don't be afraid to add some tomato paste to add color and flavor.

When the puree has reached the desired consistency, allow it to cool before storing it in a clean glass jar (or other non-reactive container). I cleaned and saved my old Heinz bottle for posterity. Stored in the fridge, your ketchup should last up to three months. Longer if you can the ketchup.



The Secrets of "Secret Ketchup Spice": bay leaf, whole cloves, whole allspice, stick cinnamon, crushed red peppers and celery seeds (I ran out and used dried celery leaves instead).

Monday, February 02, 2009

Ice Cream PollyAnna


300 grams of Malted Milk powder.

Whenever I visit Los Angeles at least one day is spent with Polly and Anna touring around the city's gastronomic delights. From French to coffee to farm to table to Thai to Japanese to Mexican and, eventually, to ice cream. During these travels, one ice cream has stood out amongst all others: the Brown Bread Ice Cream from that small and fabulous ice cream shop on Heliotrope known as Scoops.

Since our first sample of that ice cream two years ago, we've been fanatical about it. Today, I decided that we were going to attempt to break the DaVinci Code and copy that flavor.


Blend malt into flavoring base.

The one major component (besides the obvious Grape Nuts cereal) was the lively malt flavor of the ice cream. Originally, I thought about malting a vanilla based ice cream but Isaiah guided us towards using the plain base mixed with a lightly malted flavoring base to make the final mix.

Since Isaiah normally keeps an ice cream base of egg yolks, sugar, whole milk, heavy cream and atomized glucose always in stock, we just needed to create a flavoring base to add to the ice cream base. It's a relatively simple concoction of cream, sugar and whatever flavor you're creating. In this case, we're adding 300g of Carnation Malted Milk Powder.


Isaiah loads the ice cream mix into the batch freezer for spinning.

The powder is a bit of a pain to work with and requires a blender to cut the powder in and fully hydrate it. While any blender could do, it's probably best to use a VitaPrep blender with the variable speed control. Start at a slow speed and cut the malt powder into the blend. Too high a speed and you'll end up with malted sweet whipped cream.

Next up, combine the flavoring with the base and mix thoroughly. From there the mix is ready to be spun in an ice cream batch freezer for about ten minutes and until it reaches the desired consistency.


Mix in 250g of Grape Nuts into spun ice cream.


Our ice cream test ready for hardening.

After spinning, pump it out, mix with Grape Nuts cereal, smoothen it out and place in a freezer to harden overnight. A couple of quick tests later (read: several spoonfuls), and it tastes like we're on the right track.

Twenty-four hours later, I go in to check on the progress. It's hardened nicely but I think the malt flavor is a bit too intense and there's too much texture from the Grape Nuts. For those of you who are familiar with Grape Nuts' hard and crunchy texture, the ice cream softens the cereal without making it soggy. It's got a nice softness with a little crunch. Just right.


24 hours later, it's hard.

The only problem is that there's too much in each bite that it's all texture at the sacrifice of ice cream creaminess. Ideally, there should be a balance between the creamy and the crunch. Perhaps less cereal and an uneven swirl distribution.

Otherwise, I think we're close to the flavor profile I'm looking for. Soften the intensity and even out the creaminess and we should be there. I'll report back.


A quick serving of Ice Cream PollyAnna.

Saturday, January 31, 2009

Smoking Cascara



Been thinking about ways to permeate the air with the aroma of Cascara tea - that oddly fruity tea that's made from the dried husks of coffee cherries. This cascara comes from the friendly folks at Finca Mauritania in El Salvador.

It's true, the blowtorch and inverted glass is a bit obvious now. I like the aromatics but there's a slight acridity from the burning that's a little off-putting - even though I like it. I'd like to go with the vapor from a Volcano but I haven't earmarked the $650 for one yet.

There's always the PolyScience Smoking Gun I have in storage somewhere around here...

Friday, January 30, 2009

Collection 2009 - Lobster Du Jour


Our celebration of lobster and coffee begins.

While many of my barista contemporaries were off playing with chocolate, cardamom and martini glasses, I've always been drawn to the stranger and darker side of coffee. A playground where coffee tries to meet cuisine in a venue other than simply dessert or eggs benedict. And while my friends were occupied theorizing and proving the number of stirs to be performed during a brew cycle (certainly important work for our craft), I've spent a lot of time trying to get out there and tasting as many flavors and textures as possible.

The one thing I have discovered through all of this is that nothing is truly original and that everything is based on basics. Culinary wizards like Ferran Adria, Heston Blumenthal and Grant Achatz would not have been able to achieve what they have accomplished had it not been for a thorough grounding in basics. I've tried to spend as much time as possible this past year going back, learning and shoring up my basic barista and cooking skills.

Like everything, what I'm going to discuss here is a work in progress. No matter the recipe, there's always a different and sometimes better approach. Several years ago, we developed a drink called "Coffee and a Cigarette." It became one of our most widely talked about developments and even the approach for that drink has changed over the years.

I've always been fascinated about bringing coffee together with savory flavors. But coffee tends to be quite difficult to work with. It's flavors tend to clash with many of the savory flavors out there. It needs to be tamed and it's so easy to screw up a shot of espresso that adding it to a dish utterly destroys it.

Then there's the color. Brown. It's quite unfortunate really. The brown color of coffee is so strong and so concentrated that it permeates everything and anything it comes into contact. So many ideas of presenting coffee with ingredients that offer an exciting and vibrant palette of color, but once it mixes with the coffee it turns brown. An ugly brown. A detestable brown. A brown that mucks up any and all colors. It's quite frustrating.

World Barista Champion James Hoffmann once reported attempting to separate coffee from its' color. A "clear coffee" if you will. A noble cause if you ask me. The complex flavors of coffee in an orange liquid? Exciting. While I don't remember the details, it had something to do with a centrifuge that separated the color from the liquid but also separated some important flavor components as well. Unfortunate, and I'm not ready to spend the multi-thousands of dollars for a large centrifuge.

In spite of my busy schedule, I try to get some seat time in my library to browse and read through my ever-growing collection of books on business, cooking, coffee and food. It helps to frame the mind, generate ideas and develop menus. For the most part, I think of recipes as guidelines. Suggestions on ingredients. The reality is that you might not have all the ingredients at hand, or in the quantity specified. How do you make do? For me, recipes are a springboard for experimentation. I see one chef/barista using a certain combination and I'm fascinated. How do those flavors go together and what about these flavors?

From there, we're off and running attempting what, hopefully, will be something exciting. Many times, the tests end in failure. Hmmm, perhaps there's a reason why we haven't had certain combinations (let's say chocolate, liver and coffee, for example) before.

Then other times, you stumble upon something fun and interesting, like rhubarb shave ice or thyme cotton candy.

This time, I was perusing a book by Eric Ripert, On The Line and his take on celery and lobster. Normally, lobster wouldn't be an ideal candidate for coffee but the celeriac? I bet that would blend nicely with coffee. And from there it started.



Fresh celeriac.


THE CELERIAC BASE

Mainly a winter vegetable, Celeriac (Apium graveolens Rapaceum Group) is also known as "celery root" and is grown as a root vegetable. It's a pretty darn ugly-looking vegetable with a thick, knobby outer skin that needs to be cut off rather than peeled. Unfortunately, Martin Farm had already gone through their harvest of celeriac so I was left with visiting the local Wegman's for a big, three pound knob of celeriac.

Making the base is pretty straightforward. Melt some butter in a casserole (this time my trusty Le Creuset oval in yellow) and lightly soften the diced celeriac. Add salt and white pepper to taste then fill with water. Simmer until the celeriac is tender then transfer celeriac dice to a blender, saving the cooking liquid.

Puree celeriac in blender, adding the cooking water to achieve the desired consistency. Adjust seasoning. Done.


Diced celeriac in a pan with butter.

For my purposes, I ended up with a slightly thick base that wasn't too viscous. I wanted a thicker base because I knew the espresso would loosen the mix. I also took it easy on the salt, not bringing it to the level I would normally if I were making a soup. The flavor can easily be adjusted once the drink is finished.

If you're not working with it straightaway, the celeriac base will keep for at least seven days in refrigeration and up to 4 months in the freezer. I expect it should thaw with very little affect from freezing.


PREPARING THE LOBSTER

For just about all occasions, I prefer Maine lobsters (Homarus Americanus) over other species, such as spiny lobsters or slipper lobsters. Those are fine in other parts of the world but nothing matches the rich and springy flesh of a proper Americanus.

I've never killed a lobster before. Usually when it's time to cook lobster, I drop them in boiling water or hit them with a boiling combination of water and vinegar. I've never made the mistake of placing them in a steamer and then turning on the heat, where they die a long, slow and agonizing death as the water heats to steam and slowly burns them to death as they, literally, scream in horror as they slowly die. It sounds horrible and my friends who've made that mistake tell me that it is horrible.


Our lobster awaiting his fate.

This time, I wanted to separate the raw meat from the shells for poaching and roasting, which meant I had to do that which I had never done before: dispatch the lobster with a knife. I've been party to death before: the shooting of cows, the evisceration of pigs, the slicing of chickens and the (accidental) running over of cats, but no matter how many times I've been a party to death, it never sits well with me.

I think it's a good thing that we learn how to kill our own food. It's a good thing to be reticent about the act. It's a good thing to suffer some level of remorse after doing the deed. It builds respect and recognition about our food that doesn't exist when it comes wrapped in shrink-wrapped plastic in the refrigerated aisle at the grocery store.

I had been told that the most humane way of dispatching a lobster is to place the tip of your chef's knife in the center of the head right at the first shell crease behind the eyes, with the blade facing the front of the lobster. Plunge the knife tip quickly into and through the head and rotate the blade downward, slicing the head in half. I expected it to be clean and sterile. It was anything but.


Aftermath.

Like a chicken whose neck has been severed whose body flails about as death overcomes it, the lobster too has a similar, if less violent, reaction. It moves. It doesn't stop moving. The antennae move. The eyes move. Shit, did I not kill this thing??? Is it writhing in agony? Jesus Christ, I can't to anything more. The small arms move. Fuck, I don't know what to do. No one told me about any of this.

I'm worried that I didn't kill the lobster properly and feel utterly horrible. Not only have I killed a creature but I killed it with pain. I pray that the lobster truly is dead because my next action won't ease any pain it may be feeling. I rip the claws off with a twist.

But I don't stop there.

Next, I grab the body and the tail, juices steam out of the body cavity into the counter and run down my arm. I twist the body and tail in opposing directions. Snaaaap! The tail separates from the body and I'm horrified as two long, black sacks dangle from the body. Are those excrement sacs? Maybe their roe sacks? Shit, I don't know. I just want to get this over with as quickly as possible. I still have a second lobster to dispatch and I'm not enjoying this first task.

Now, I need to get the meat out of the tail. I grab it and try to break the fins off, no luck. Grab the knife, put it to the fins and, suddenly, Holy Craaap! The tail seizes into a ball. It's sudden, unexpected and I'm freaked out! I drop it to the counter and after recomposing myself, I straighten it out and try again. It snaps tight and I'm freaked again. Shit, this sucks.

Using the back of the knife, I crack open one of the claws but the meat is sticking to the inside of the shell. It's not coming out easily or whole. There's no way around it, I'm gonna have to blanch the lobster.

Right there I decide that I'm gonna blanch the other lobster as well. I'm really not in the mood to kill the second one with a knife and quickly heat a pot of water with just a little vinegar. Once it hits the boil, I'm just gonna dump the liquid over the lobster and it will be dead.

Thinking that it would be cruel and unusual punishment, I decide to put the second live lobster in a separate pot than the dismembered pieces of his now dead brother. Maybe the lobster isn't intelligent enough to know the difference but I would think it was torture if I were placed in a stainless tank with pieces of one of my friends scattered around me. I'm just not that cruel.

The idea behind blanching lobsters is to kill them quickly and loosen the meat without actually cooking it. Once the liquid reaches a boil, I pour it over the lobster. There's no struggle and the lobster is killed quickly. Leave in blanching liquid for two minutes and then plunge the lobster into an ice water bath to chill and stop the heat from cooking the meat.

From there, it's easy peasy. Separate the tail and claw meat from the shells and save the shells. We'll use those to create the cream.


COOKING THE LOBSTER MEAT

I've been thinking that I want to add some of the meat to the drink as a garnish, either in the vessel or off to the side, maybe on top. Whatever happens in the end, we need to cook the meat. One of the best ways I've discovered is by poaching the meat in a Beurre Monte sauce.

To make the sauce, simply cut butter into tablespoon sized chunks and heat a couple ounces of water in a sauce pan until boiling. Slowly add the butter, one pat at a time, while combining with the water using a whisk. You're creating an emulsion with the water that prevents the milk solids from separating from the fat in butter (as you would do when clarifying butter).


Bathing the lobster meat in Beurre Monte at 59.5C.

Continue to add and whisk in butter until you've reached the volume of Beurre Monte you desire. In our case, I needed enough to poach the lobster meat in a small metal pan that I would hold at temperature in a sous vide water bath at 59.5C.

If using a controlled device, set the temperature to 59.5C. You can either float the Beurre Monte in a pan in the bath or make enough Beurre Monte to fill an entire deep hotel pan and use the immersion circulator directly in the Beurre Monte. I don't have the need for such a large bath so I just floated the pan in the bath.

Note: if you float the Beurre Monte in the bath, give it a good hour with lots of stirring to bring the Beurre Monte to the proper temperature.


The finished meat ready to eat and wonderfully tender.

Once at temperature, poach lobster meat in Beurre Monte at 59.5C for fifteen minutes. The meat will be cooked through and still very tender. It will be perfect. In fact, it will be so perfect that your family and friends may be unnerved by it. Having been so used to tough and rubbery overcooked lobster, they may be a little skittish about soft and perfectly cooked lobster meat, mistakenly thinking that it's undercooked. It's not undercooked, it's just that most people have only eaten overcooked lobster all their lives.

After fifteen minutes, pull from the Beurre Monte and hold until needed. Meat can be wrapped and refrigerated for at least three days.


LOBSTER CREAM

Now that you have your lobster shells, rinse and clean them in cold water. Remove the gills, tomalley and guts. Save the roe.

Heat olive oil in a casserole and once hot, add lobster shells and roast for a few minutes until the shells are bright red.

Note: Break or chop the shells into pieces much smaller than in the photos. After starting to roast them, I discovered that they were still too big, making the whole roasting thing unwieldy.


Sizzling the lobster shells in brandy and tomato.

Add a couple tablespoons of tomato paste and coat the shells.

Add a couple ounces of brandy and reduce to dry.

After the brandy has reduced, cover the shells in heavy cream and simmer until the sauce has reduced by one fourth.


Adding the cream to simmer and finish.

Strain the now flavored cream through a china cap or chinois to remove shells. Strain sauce through a chinois as many time as you can stand to remove matter from the sauce, cleaning the chinois between each pass. The more times you pass the sauce through the chinois, the silkier the texture.

When ready, chill the cream in the refrigerator until cold.


Containers of Lobster Cream and Celeriac Base ready for transport.




ASSEMBLY

Since our space at The Spro is limited, I end up doing most of the development work in my home kitchen or at Woodberry Kitchen's kitchen. The task is to develop the product and then drill it down for line production, i.e. how do we break it down to its' components to be reproduced in an environment that may not have all the necessary equipment (like burners and ovens). How to break it down to work in an espresso bar?

Of course, it would be ideal to build a studio kitchen where all development can be done but The Spro unfortunately isn't El Bulli or The Fat Duck, so we make do. One of the challenges is that I don't maintain an operational espresso machine at home. Sure, I've got a La Marzocco Linea 4EE in the garage and a E61 type La Valentina in the basement but none of them are installed since I hate cleaning up after myself and I'm a messy barista.

As such, all tests with espresso have to be done at The Spro where we have a fresh supply of coffee and a rip=roaring Linea 3AV and three grinders at our disposal.


Celeriac Base in a mini latte bowl.

Our tests took on several approaches and combinations. Do we add the celeriac base first? Or the espresso? Maybe eliminate the celeriac altogether and let the espresso and lobster cream stand on their own? Lots of questions and lots of possible variations.

After a few tries, it's obvious that the celeriac needs to go first. It's pretty thick compared to the espresso and needs to be mixed by hand. This means that if we took the time to add the celeriac base after the shot then we would lose some of the crema and its' volatile aromatics and flavors. By having the celeriac base in the cup during the shot we can combine the two immediately.


Pulling a shot over the celeriac base.

We also tried eliminating the celeriac, going with just the espresso and lobster cream. Immediately we realized this was the wrong direction. Like I had suspected early on, the celeriac balances the acidity of the espresso, smoothening it out. The base had to remain. Otherwise, it was just offensive.

Straightaway, we noticed a critical error in preparation. In an effort to infuse as much lobster flavor into the cream as possible, we heated it to a simmer. This heating changes the structure of the milk enzymes, preventing us from achieving a silky, velvet texture while steaming the lobster cream with the espresso machine. For the next attempt, I think a cold infusion will serve our needs better and allow us to achieve the silky texture without sacrificing flavor.


Mixing the espresso with the base and testing serving vessels.

Different ratios demonstrated wild swings in flavor balance. Some needed the enhancement of salt. Others did not. We were looking for a balance of the coffee and celeriac with an undercurrent of lobster. Or, more accurately, the structure of espresso, solidified with the celeriac, topped by the a lingering high note of creamy lobster.

Part of the solution is the serving vessel itself. How to present the drink gracefully while ensuring the proper ratio of ingredients. Some vessels may be the ideal size but are just too plain and boring. Others look interesting but are prone to spilling. Some are just funky but absolutely not functional.

One thing I always want to avoid are those vessels that have quickly become a cliche in barista circles. Stemmed glassware and martini glasses being the most obvious culprits, followed closely by Bodum insulated glassware and anything with cardamom.


Using sodium chloride to enhance flavor.

In the end, I think we came up with the correct ratio of coffee to base to cream that delivers what we set out to achieve. It's different. Definitely outside of most peoples preconceptions of coffee, perhaps too much so. As the weeks progress and development continues we'll refine our approach and technique. Already I'm wondering if the lobster cream can be dried into a hardened foam a la Paco Torreblanca.

Right now, I'm thinking that the drink color is better than the average brown but still needs enhancement. Maybe a topping of grated frozen lobster or grated black truffle might be the trick.


A potential contender.

Monday, January 26, 2009

The Best Coffee

I'm frequently asked "Where's the best coffee?" I guess people think that since I'm in the coffee business, I must know the "in" places, the "hip" places and "the best" places. But, to be perfectly frank, I don't drink coffee at many places. Usually I'm too scared to try the coffee.

And while I've been exposed to and drank some of the world's top coffees, can I really say that they were "the best"? I don't think so.

For me, "the best" coffee happens in the most unexpected of places. From the wild blueberry of Stumptown's Ethiopia Harrar way back in September 2003 to the otherwise undistinguished blend of coffees at the local greasy spoon that went oh so perfectly with my pancakes to sitting at home sharing a coffee with my father (a self-professed connoisseur of Taster's Choice).

Other times, the unexpected happens. Like the coffee from Colombia that we procured from Hines / Origins Coffee in Vancouver. Colombian so good that it was truly delicious.

Or the bag of Kenya that was a gift during my end of the year run to Denver from Mike and Hugo at Allegro. I pressed and drank that coffee greedily at home every day until it was all gone.

Of course, I have the advantage of a ready supply of freshly roasted coffee at my disposal. But the truth is that I hardly ever have the best stuff at home. I leave our best supply at The Spro, for our customers. Instead, I make do with pressed house blend that I have leftover from the lot I brought home for the family Christmas party.

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

Barack Hussein Obama


A comforting sight on the way to the Inauguration.

With Silver Tickets in hand (actually tucked in my Marmot fleece vest three layers under), we made our way down to 3rd Street NW under Naval Intelligence Police escort until we could go no further. It's Inauguration Day in Washington, D.C. and we had made our way down here to ostensibly be a part of American History.

For weeks the media has been warning that DC would be packed with up to four million people. The MARC train was sold out. Amtrak was sold out. Buses were in short supply and the DC Metro is jammed to the gills. So much so that full trains would bypass stations entirely because those stations were too crowded for the people on the trains to get off. Cab drivers would interrogate you before picking you up to ensure that you weren't headed for the exclusion zone surrounding the National Mall. All over DC, streets were closed for security, for events, and for who really knows what.


Have balaclava. Will travel.

Army soldiers were stationed in pairs of two all over the District. Unarmed. I had to wonder why. Maybe their command wanted to send a kinder, gentler message to the people. Maybe they didn't want the District to look like what it really was: a city under seige. No weapons. I thought that was foolish. What good is a soldier without his weapon? What if they happened upon a suicide bomber terrorist? Were they going to throw their coffee cups at the bomber? Would that be enough to stop an attack?

I hoped I wasn't about to find out.

Once we reached the exclusion zone, things were a bit different. Officers, agents and soldiers of various agencies and battalions gently guided the masses towards the unknown. Volunteers with red knitted ski caps directed people to where they needed to be. But, in the end, it was one massive FUBAR.


Diana and The Bob in the 395 Tunnel.

People will ask me: "How was it?", "What did you think?" and "Was it amazing?" My answers will be: "Cold", "Not too much" and "Sure." I guess it's amazing to be at the inauguration of the first African-American President of the United States, but was it really that great of an experience? I have to say No. It was cold. It was crowded. The streets were closed. Cabbies wouldn't take you anywhere near the exclusion zone. And instead of making it easy to reach the National Mall, they made it harder.

I had Congressional tickets for the Silver Standing area, a large grassy spot in front of the US Capitol's reflecting pool - about as close as you can get without a seat. Third Street bisects the Silver Standing Area, running north to south. However, instead of letting people access the area on third from the North, they closed off access in that direction and forced everyone to walk through the 395 Tunnel to the southern side of the National Mall where the masses with Silver tickets thronged the single, solitary entrance and a line snaked through the streets for five blocks.

For weeks, the news had been reporting that "up to five million" people would flood the city. Five Million. Expecting that many people, you'd think the powers that be would anticipate that perhaps they should have more entry points - the Silver Standing area alone had 100,000 tickets, quite a bit more traffic than one checkpoint can handle. Instead of making it easier, they made it worse.

We fell in line about five blocks away, next to running busses pumping their diesel fumes in our faces. When my descendants ask me what I remember of the Obama Inauguration, this is what I will tell them. Standing out in the cold with your Uncle Bob, freezing out butts off with the smell of diesel fuel in the air and carbon monoxide filling my veins. A morning to remember.


Joining The Surge at the Silver Gate.

But we were patient. We had come all this way and braved snow, sleet and extreme cold to be here this morning. Quite honestly, I was up for abandoning the line, making our way to Capitol Hill and finding a nice bar with a television where we could actually see Obama taking the oath of office, but we decided to tough it out.

As we got closer, we started to notice other Silver Ticket holders walking past. No longer were they asking if this was the Silver line. Now they were stating that the silver gate had been closed and that they were heading towards the National Mall. Should we step out of the line and join them? Hell no. I hadn't endured all of this pain and intoxication just to join the unwashed masses on the National Mall in the freezing cold. We're gonna find a nice hotel with a television on the lobby or press on until we're turned away by Secret Service.

And press on we did.

By the time we reached the Silver Gate at Third and Independence, the line had disintegrated into a thriving mob. They had closed the Silver Gate and people were pissed. Chanting began. People held their Silver Tickets above their heads. They were getting angry - I guess I wasn't the only one who endured all of this who was unhappy about joining the unwashed masses.


Positioning ourselves for Obama.

After ten tense minutes of the mob thronging and threatening to surge, the guards decided wisely to let us in because Yes We Can. Moments later, the tide started to flow and soon we were inside our designated standing area.

And here's the ironic thing:

All week long, people had been telling us to get there early. People were lining up to get into the National Mall by 4:30am. At 8am, when we started watching the crowds on the apartment television, people were already crowding the mall - but there was plenty of space in the Silver Standing Area. We didn't leave the apartment until about 10am. We entered the Silver Standing Area just as the Inauguration was beginning at Noon.

I hate to wait in lines.

But the worse part:

All of these lines and delays were caused because of the security checkpoints where everyone was screened before entering the area. By the time we reached the Silver Gate and the mob demanded to be admitted, they just let everyone in. No screening. No security. No need to hide a bomb on your body, you could have carried it on your shoulders and gotten access.

Once inside, we found a decent enough spot from which to pretend we were actually watching the inauguration. Of course, we chose the one spot in all of Washington DC without close viewing range of a television or JumboTron, so we really couldn't see anything except the red draping around the archway on the Capitol were allegedly Obama stood while taking his oath. At least they had speakers set up so we would hear the oath being fumbled.

If all of this sounds negative, it really isn't. It just wasn't that magical, wondrous and enchanting experience that so many have alluded to. It was what it was: standing out in the extreme cold with a whole bunch of people attempting to watch Barack Obama take the oath of office. The really odd thing to my mind is the notion that we were a part of history. We just happened to be there. Most of the people there watched the oath on a television screen - something that could have been done in your pajamas in the warmth of home. Just a bunch of people standing in the cold. Like those addicted to cigarettes who stand out in the cold to feed that addiction, we were out in the cold feeding something else.


Barack Hussein Obama is somewhere in there being sworn in as President of the United States.

But all wasn't lost. The truly notable event in DC was the people. Americans from all walks of life and nations coming together in great masses and actually getting along and being happy about it. You expect in large crowds of Americans a lot of anger towards each other and the endless waits. Not so. Everyone got along and definitely had a sense of brotherhood and perhaps even euphoria.

Of course, this is America, and that sense of brotherhood is always fleeting and temporary and by tomorrow we'll be back to hating and shooting one another. But for this brief moment in time, the possibility of America's promise and the people we could become actually materialized.


Myself, Brindisi, Michelle, Walter, Reese, The Bob, Ryan, Diana, Emma and Gaston with Congressman "Dutch" Ruppersberger (D-MD).

Monday, January 19, 2009

We're Off To See The Wizard...


My invitation.

No doubt about it. The idea of going to Washington DC in the bitter cold to "watch" the inauguration of Barack Obama in the middle of the Mall on a video screen when I could be at home (or The Spro) and watching it in the comfort of shorts and a beverage is just ludicrous to me.

Five million people.
Five thousand portable toilets.

You do the math.

The word was that we would get passes into one of the reserved areas. An area by the reflecting pool. The only "reflecting pool" I knew of is the one between the Washington Monument and the Lincoln Memorial. But for those of you familiar with the District, the reflecting pool is even farther away from the Capitol than the Mall. Which would make the walk to the congressional reception afterwards even less appealing. I didn't know if that would be worth it.

Luckily, I don't know everything and CapitolSwell finally revealed to me that there's a reflecting pool fronting the Capitol, and our tickets were for this area - the area directly behind the 28,000 reserved seats immediately in front of the inaugural stand. Good news: at least we now had a chance to see Obama standing on the stage taking his oath. Definitely worth the effort.

So tomorrow morning, we will be braving the bitterly cold weather and millions of people to make the many mile hike into downtown DC to watch Barack Obama assume the presidency of the United States of America.

Should be pretty cool.


Where we'll be standing. Somewhere. In there.