Quick Coffee Notes From Around Town

It was a busy summer and autumn, both personally and professionally, so I suspended my coffee blogging -- but not my coffee drinking. The best bean by far was the (expensive) Honduras Cup of Excellence Lot #4 from Fernández Farm in El Cielito, Santa Bárbara, Honduras, as roasted by Cafe Grumpy. (It's still available: I picked up some today.) The tasting notes: "Red currant aroma. Floral brightness. Sweet notes of aged bourbon & molasses." The Cup of Excellence rewards barista skill, of course, but you have to start with a good bean, and this far exceeded my expectations. I was parceling out beans like bits of gold on mornings with important business. I also returned to a couple of standbys -- Grumpy's Heartbreaker espresso, always right on the money, and the house espresso at Joe the Art of Coffee. In my office, I used the Aeropress to make cups of another Honduran bean, Finca La Tina from Joe, with good results.

I have noticed a few new coffee shops opening their doors around Manhattan, so I hope to try a few new places. Alas, B. Koffie, home of the French press in a cup, closed its doors a while back, so Hell's Kitchen again lacks a boutique coffee experience. (The beans came from La Columbe.)

2 Shots and a Cup of Indian Mysore

img_0576I've decided to expand the sources of beans for my haphazard and probably misguided search for the perfect cup of home-brewed coffee. The other day I stopped by the relatively new Chelsea branch of Joe, the Art of Coffee, a small chain that started in the West Village, routinely turns up on best-of lists, and is sometimes credited with being one of the first movers in New York City's belated culinary coffee renaissance. Joe offers a pleasant store experience, cuppings and classes (arranged in a curriculum with semesters), podcasts and other signs that say, coffee geeks welcome. All of Joe's coffee comes from its partner, Barrington Coffee Roasting Co. I had dropped my daughter off at school nearby, and was in a bit of a rush to get back on the subway and to the office. (I live further uptown in the Starbucks wasteland.) I was about to buy a bag of espresso beans, but then "Indian Mysore" caught my eye. I know it's just a region's name, but the name seemed so unappealing for a food product that -- using reverse logic -- I thought it had to be good.

Name: Indian Mysore Origin: The branded Joe's bag is no help here, but Barrington's Web site says it comes from the Kalledevarapura Estate in Chickmagalur in the Baba Budan Giris area of India's Mysore region. Roasted: The date is not listed on the vacuum-sealed bag, but Barrington is based in Lee, Ma., and moves a lot of beans through Joe. Purchased: Jan. 21 at Joe, the Art of Coffee, 405 West 23rd St., Chelsea. Description: There's nothing on the bag, but Barrington says this is a "super smooth, heavy bodied coffee, bold and exotic with a nut-like aroma." The Pour: That description sounds like it ought to be right up my alley. But I recoiled from the first shot I tasted. It was smooth, but not super-smooth. It was sort of dusty and bitter. I certainly caught the nut flavor, but there was also an aftertaste that struck me as more unpleasant than bold. Exotic, yes. Too exotic. My first thought was, I guess I should have bought Joe's espresso blend, since I've tried that in the store and enjoyed it, and many local reviewers praise it. I prepared to write the first fully bad review in this series. Other beans have not appealed to my personal taste, but I recognized they were of good quality. This was the first I considered pitching out.

But I should probably confess that I started the morning with a last shot of this coffee from Nyakizu Cooperative in Rwanda, which has a distinctive currant-cider-spice flavor. I did clean my palate with some water but maybe the collision of flavors was still too much. It also occurred to me that maybe this was just not a good bean for espresso. I made a regular cup of coffee, tasted it, drowned it in some soy milk, tasted it again. This was not really an improvement. So I went online and noodled around for a while, did some more research. Here is what Barrington says about the Kalledevarapura Estate Indian Mysore:

This coffee is brought to us by the Herculean efforts of Dr. Joseph John, a first generation East Indian who has devoted his energy to sourcing and importing specialty coffees from India to the United States. We regard the Mysore Nuggets as consistently the highest quality specialty coffee produced in India. Grown in Northern Mysore, the specific region where this coffee is grown is called Baba Budan Giris. The name of the region comes from the legendary Baba Budan who brought coffee from Arabia to India circa 1600 A.D. When people think of India, they typically think of tea. This notion needs to be reconsidered. India has consistently been among the top 10 commercial coffee producers in the world and is on the horizon as a budding producer of specialty coffees. The Kalledevarapura Estate is a prime example.

So, now I felt bad for the Herculean efforts of the great pioneer Dr. Joseph John. I also recalled the lesson of the Peet's Aged Sumatra, which grew on me over the course of a week in L.A.

I made another shot. And here is where my fickle palate did a reversal of sorts. There was still a dustiness and an aftertaste, but this second shot was much easier to take. Not great, but better. I allowed that perhaps this particular bag of beans had been on the shelf too long, or that I waited too long to open the bag and try them. Still, it was acceptable enough the second time around that I'll give it a few more chances. I doubt it will ever make a list of my favorites or that I'll buy it again.

An update: The next day, my first shot was nuttier than I recalled on Sunday, with a only a hint of the flavors that put me off yesterday -- not sure what I meant by dustiness, though. There's also a light sour finish of sorts. But that and a second shot were perfectly acceptable. I suppose I should go take a class at Joe the Art of Coffee to learn the language to convey this stuff. For the time being, I just need to know I probably won't be getting this bean again.

On the next trip downtown, I'll either pick up Joe's Barrington Gold Espresso Blend that people rave about or do some research into some of the other offerings, including other single-source coffees.

Recommendations?

The Hard Math of the Paella Bar

There are just 24 side-by-side seats at the long communal table at Socarrat Paella Bar on 19th Street in Chelsea, as Frank Bruni noted last week in The Times, and they don't take reservations. So when our party of eight -- including four kids -- showed up on Sunday night, the math was against us, even though we were arriving before 6. We would have needed a third of the entire restaurant. The place was already jammed, but the owner had a soft spot for kids and saw our dilemma as we were about to wander off in search of a different place. It was a warm October night, an unseasonable 70 degrees. We were walked through the kitchen to a big table on a back, open-air patio. The kids ran around while we ate. The paella was as great as billed, according to one in our party, who grew up eating the home-made stuff. I doubt we would get this lucky again, but I definitely plan to go back (probably with just a party of 2 this time).