Tastes of Africa in Mason Jars at B. Koffie

Bad news: Now closed. For the longest time, lovers of single-origin high-end culinary coffee in the upper Hell's Kitchen neighborhood have had to travel downtown for beans. Even this place is a bit far from the West 50s.

Now comes B. Koffie.

The new shop drew a fair amount of attention when it opened earlier this year as the first place to offer a disposable a French-press-to-go cup.

I went to see that and try it out, but I was more interested in the selection of single-origin beans, all imported from Africa.

The beans are sold in Mason jars, the ones made by the Ball Corp., the type that my parents used to use for canning preserves, sauces and pickles.

If you return the jar for a refill, you get a discount, the barista told me. Coffee Rwanda Rwabisindu

Purchased May 16 at B. Koffie, 370 West 51st St., between 8th and 9th Avenue, closer to 9th.

Description According to the hand-lettered chalkboard (pictured): "Chocolate tones, jasmine, fruit and nuts."

In the Cup: This was a smooth, rich and delicious coffee, prepared as an espresso and an Americano at home. It seemed fresh, though I don't know the roaster or roasting date, or the precise origin, presumably a cooperative associated with the Rwabisindu washing station. I was in a hurry on my visit, so I forgot to ask about those details, and they were not posted.

[Update: I was told on a later visit that the beans were imported and roasted by the Philadelphia-based La Columbe Torrefaction, which also has its own shop in SoHo.]

The little shop on West 51st Street is easy to miss on the south side of the street. When I visited, there was no sign out front, the overhang said something about an electronics shop, and I almost walked by. Inside, there are no seats, but the decor is pleasing, and the staff was patient and helpful.

According to the shop's Web site, B. Koffie was created by Tanya Hira and her partner Roberto Passon. The Xpress lid is a clever gimmick, a disposable contraption designed by Jeff Baccetti of Smartcup.

The barista put the ground coffee in the bottom and poured in the piping hot water. I waited four minutes and then pushed the plunger down until it clicked.

This results in a considerably fresher cup of coffee than something that has been sitting around the shop.

And I mean it about the piping hot part -- I walked several blocks before the cup was cool enough to drink.

I think I still prefer the precision that a skilled barista can get from a Clover, and I generally don't mind the wait. When I go back, I think I'll try an espresso pulled from the shop's FAEMA E61 espresso maker, which seems to be a fetish object for some coffee geeks.

But the real reason to visit B. Koffie is the coffee, of course. And now that the Mason jar is empty, it's time to take a stroll over for a refill. (Update: I did just that and also gave the French press cup another try, with a smooth and smoky Ethiopian Yergacheffe that satisfied].

Sweet on Finca La Folie

I found myself on a fool's errand trying to research this coffee, suggesting that it has already sold out. And, as so often happens, I got distracted wandering the Internet. The seller, Ritual Roasters has a great video tutorial about espresso, using a French press, the Clover and other topics. I was hooked after the first one, in which the barista explains the wide variety in espresso flavors, even with the same beans, and he compares the intensity of espresso to the slap in the face of whiskey. I never thought I'd have this much fun watching videos of coffee geeks do their thing. Name Finca La Folie

Origin 1600 meters above sea level, Guatemala

Roasted Sept. 1 by Ritual Coffee Roasters of San Francisco.

Purchased Sept. 4 at Café Grumpy, 224 W. 20th St., Manhattan, between Seventh and Eighth Avenues.

Description "Cocoa, dried apricots, molasses."

In the Cup I regret that this review is not as timely as it could have been. This was one of three types of beans I bought on that trip to Grumpy earlier this month, including the Flor Azul from Intelligentsia and a selection from Verve that remains unopened (I'll be turning to that in the coming week). I was distracted by this side trip to Stumptown's new Manhattan store and finished the Costa Rican beans I bought there before returning to this excellent Guatemalan selection.

As I mentioned, there is no information about this selection at the Ritual site, which is selling a different coffee from Guatemala, Finca La Merced. I'm a big fan of the roaster's monthly Sweet Tooth series, but I don't think this was a part of it. The Finca La Folie bag says the producer is Hermanas Penny (variety is bourbon). So if anyone has a link, add it in the comments.

The flavor is as advertised. In espresso, the apricot is stronger than in a regular cup, but the cocoa and molasses are the strongest flavors, and make for a delicious coffee. I have enough beans left for about four more cups of espresso, and I look forward to a pleasant weekend. I hope you enjoy yours, too.

A Mug of Peet's Aged Sumatra

As promised, here is part two of my traveling coffee review, as my quixotic coffee quest continues on a second coast. After some misadventures with two ancient drip coffee makers, I bought a French press at Peet's Coffee and Tea on Ventura Boulevard in Studio City. I also acquired some of the specialty chain's Aged Sumatra, on top of the plain old Sumatra I wrote about yesterday. Name: Peet's Aged Sumatra

Geographic Origin: Sumatra, Indonesia.

Description: Nothing on the bag, but the Peet's Web site says: "A very rich coffee with a slight hint of a tropical wood flavor, a concentrated dried fruit sweetness, herbal notes, and ample body."

Date Purchased: Dec. 28.

Date Roasted: Unknown, but presumably this weekend, based on the Peet's promise that beans are roasted six days a week and are stocked in stores within a day.

Source: Peet's Coffee and Tea, 12215 Ventura Boulevard, Studio City, Ca.

The Pour: I had an easier time of it today with the Bodum Chambord, pictured above, because the Aged Sumatra was ground coarse, the proper method for a French press. The Sumatra had been ground finer, for an automatic coffee maker, which made it harder to apply pressure on the plunger. I was a little fearful on Sunday that it might all shatter, spraying me with glass and hot coffee. Today it was easy as pie. I enlisted a nearby child to time the steeping at precisely 4 minutes. Supposedly, aged coffee can be a bit of a shock, with a bite at first, and I suppose that was true in this case. But I found it tastier than the regular Sumatra, full-flavored with plenty of body. I guess I tasted the tropical wood, but I'm still trying to detect the dried fruit. It's certainly not an overpowering part of the taste, which is fine by me. The flavor is improving by the minute, in fact.

Effects: As I suspect is the case with most people, east-to-west jetlag is generally easier for me than the reverse. I just keep myself awake the first couple of days while sleeping in, which means I still wake up early on local time, yet refreshed from extra hours of sleep. But one drawback is that my body is aching for caffeine at inappropriate times. That makes me fuzzy, unfocused and crabby. The Aged Sumatra has taken care of that, giving me enough clarity to wonder, what's this about "aged" coffee? Isn't old coffee a bad thing? Apparently not. Here's what Peet's has to say about the aging process:

Good aged coffees are very hard to find, due to the lengthy aging process and the fact that coffee exporters usually want to convert their coffee to cash as soon as possible. But there are a few who are willing to wait, knowing that the fine aged coffee can be worth quite a bit more.... Aging must take place in a tropical environment, where beans take on moisture at the height of the monsoon season, and give it back during the drier season, without ever drying completely. This process deepens the flavor and makes it mellower, while accentuating certain taste components over others.

Well, whatever. I've had two mugs of the stuff, with no complaints, and I'm ready to roll.

A Mug of Peet's Sumatra Coffee

Making good coffee when traveling is a hassle, especially if you are staying with people who don't make it regularly, as is my current situation. So my search for the perfect shot has been somewhat disrupted. I went down to the Valley, as they call it here, and found a Peet's Coffee and Tea on Ventura Boulevard in Studio City. My coffee geek friends from the West Coast have always sworn by Peet's. The list of beans on the wall was heavy on citrus-y flavors, and I asked for something richer, nuttier. The staff concluded that I should go with something Indonesian. I settled on this and had them grind it for use in a drip coffee maker. I took it back to where we were staying, and then my troubles began. Name: Peet's Sumatra

Geographic Origin: Sumatra, Indonesia.

Description: Nothing on the bag, but the Peet's Web site says: "Very full body, very concentrated flavor. Sweet, slightly earthy, herbal nuances... It's not the most refined or elegant coffee you can drink, but its gutsy and earthy richness is very seductive." It's a longtime standard at Peet's.

Date Purchased: Dec. 27.

Date Roasted: Unknown, but presumably Dec. 26 or Dec. 27 based on this promise on the bag: "We roast six days a week to fill the daily orders from our stores... We don't store our roasted coffee. Coffee we roast today will be in our stores... the next business day."

Source: Peet's Coffee and Tea, 12215 Ventura Boulevard, Studio City, Ca.

The Pour: Our hosts had a couple of old drip coffee makers up on a shelf. Emphasis on old. And dusty. So when I got around to making coffee this morning, the first one did not function properly, and the water overflowed the plastic gold filter. The second one could not be compelled to push water through the filter. So it was back down the hill to buy a French press, a Bodum Chambord, at Peet's. This was my preferred method of making coffee before I bought the fancy automatic espresso maker I use at home. I also bought another pound of coffee, this time "Aged Sumatra," with a rough grind for a French press. In the confusion of re-learning how to make coffee this way, I ended up using the finer grind plain Sumatra for the drip machines. It worked out OK, though I did have some difficulty pressing down, which the French press instructions had warned about. I'll try the other grind tomorrow. After some trial and error, I had a good cup. The flavor was deep, rich, as promised, with a slightly bitter aftertaste (I may have made it too strong). It had a full, smooth body, quite pleasant. No citrus or hints of berry and so forth, as promised. I added a bit of soy milk to take the edge off.

Effects: It also took the edge off my mood, which had been aggravated by the broken drip coffee makers and the extra trip down the hill. I stopped growling at people and decided to do this blog post, even though I'm supposedly on vacation, because this is my strange idea of a good time. I look forward to comparing this cup to the Aged Sumatra tomorrow. Here's a little more detail from the Peet's site about the growing process:

Sumatra is another classic Indonesian coffee but totally different from Java. Java's coffees are grown on estates and processed by the washed method; Sumatra's coffees are grown by small landholders who may only have a few trees on their property, and they are processed by the dry method. The ripe coffee cherries are pulped by hand and spread in the sun to dry rather than being rinsed in water overnight. The net result of dry-processed coffee is very heavy body and very full flavor.