Posts tagged: espresso
Honestly, I had never heard of it until just now.
Here’s the lowdown for those unaware (emphases added):
Kopi luwak (pronounced [ˈkopi ‘luak]) or civet coffee is coffee made from the beans of coffee berries which have been eaten by the Asian Palm Civet (Paradoxurus hermaphroditus) and other related civets, then passed through its digestive tract. A civet eats the berries for their fleshy pulp. In its stomach, proteolytic enzymes seep into the beans, making shorter peptides and more free amino acids. Passing through a civet’s intestines the beans are then defecated, having kept their shape. After gathering, thorough washing, sun drying, light roasting and brewing, these beans yield an aromatic coffee with much less bitterness, widely noted as the most expensive coffee in the world.
Typically, when I see any type of food whose description contains the words “are then defecated” I tend to, well you know, not like that.
The process does sound intriguing though, and if it truly does taste as good as its price-tag implies, then I’d love to try some. The fact that it is categorized alongside Blue Mountain coffee does give me pause though. I’ve had the fabled Jamaica Blue Mountain, which I bought in Jamaica no less, and although it is very good, it’s certainly not worth the exorbitant price-tag, in my opinion. So the fact that this, ehem, repurposed coffee is now being blended with Blue Mountain and sold for $100 a cup honestly makes me a bit skeptical.
Don’t have one. Drinks that are four dollars are not coffee drinks, they are mutations.
The day my signature old-school macchiato or double espresso costs four dollars, I’m switching to tea completely.
I have to tell you this quick story though… the other day MaryAnn and I were in San Francisco and I got to have espresso at Blue Bottle. My pal Jim, who is a roaster at DOMA over in Post Falls, recommended it so I knew it would be good.
The line had like 20 people in it, but I figured, hell, if this many people, in this town, are willing to stand in line for this coffee, it must be good quality at the very least. So while MA went to a candy shop a few doors down to buy something to take home to the kiddos, I start waiting. Ten minutes or so go by, and then by sheer luck I notice that they have TWO different espresso stations, the main one and another slightly less obvious window around the corner where they have another machine and another barista serving drinks. Only this isn’t just another La Marzocco machine like they have at the front bar; this is a Mirage Triplette Idrocompresso (lever-pull style). Theirs is the 3-head version of exact machine we had at our café. It is considered by those who know about such things to be one of the finest commercial espresso machines in the world. They are hand-made one at a time in The Netherlands, and produce espresso that is simply, well, the best espresso you’ve ever had in your life, hands down.
So after another 10 minutes or so of waiting in line, and teaching a couple of first-timers who were in line with me what a true “macchiato” really is (because they asked), I finally get to the counter and promptly order two of them.
The preparation is an absolute clinic in perfect macchiato creation; a thing of beauty. Rich dark brown genuine Heath demitasse cups, a tiny spoon neatly placed on the saucer before the cup arrives, and the perfect timing of the whole exercise as the two big silent levers slowly make their arc back towards vertical.
The result was everything I hoped for. Quite simply, a macchiato that may have been the best I’ve ever had. In my opinion, the true macchiato is the perfect and essential way to experience espresso. And this one was perfect. The small amount of steamed milk slightly sweetening the ristretto espresso and making it taste like a whole new substance; something round, berry-overtoned, sweet, rich, thick, bright, luscious, and so instantly and insanely satisfying that it makes you grin and shake your head and chuckle out loud in public and call your wife who just had hip surgery and tell her to HURRY BACK RIGHT NOW because this is so bloody amazing. :)
That drink didn’t cost 4 bucks. I don’t pay 4 bucks for coffee. Ever.
Remembering Junebugs Café
I stumbled across some old photos I had taken of our little place. Seems like forever ago now. Two-thousand-six… not that long ago I guess… but then again 3 and-a-half years can seem like 10 when you’re piecing your life back together. I do miss it though. Especially in the winter. I loved what 6 o’clock on a chilly winter morning felt like there. The amazing steel-cut oatmeal with brown sugar and milk that I ate almost every day. Everyone made fun of me because I drank it like a health shake, from a paper cup…(and maybe also because I insisted that it actually was a health shake, more healthy than any other IN THE WORLD). The exquisite and perfect espresso that I would make for myself on one of the nicest espresso machines in the country (literally), and then consume in a near-religious ceremony. Ah, and the little orange cup I’d drink it in. Loved those cups. The warm smell of scones pulled out of the oven was like a snuggie, and the way the blue pendant light over the register glowed through the window behind it, so that it shone out into the dark cold morning from inside, was strangely comforting. To me at least.
There were many little details that were all my favorite. The memories are nice.
Sure, there were hard things too… the stress, dealing with difficult employees, all the money stuff, and the eventual pain of watching something that we sweat and bled for die in our own hands.
Honestly though, I just remember the good parts.
This photo makes me miss my old Idro today. Missin’ it bad. :(
