Return to Brazil, via Joe the Art of Coffee

A good coffee shop is all about atmosphere. And the atmosphere is one reason that I've tried to like the Joe Art of Coffee chain. They really make an effort.

Paintings and other one-of-a-kind art on the wall. Barista classes. Cute little signs describing bits of coffee lore. Cupping notes on the bags. The last time I sampled some beans here, very early in my coffee quest, I was disappointed. Lately Joe has been popping up on best-of lists, so it was long past time to give Joe another chance, and now I'm glad I did.

One important change: Joe has switched to a new roasting partner, Ecco Caffe in California, since my visit last year. A good roast makes all the difference. The retooling landed the shop on this best-of-New-York coffee list by The Times. Coffees Brazil Serra do Bone, Brazil Fazenda Sertãozinho and Seasonal House Blend

Roasted Late April by Ecco Caffe

Purchased May 3 at Joe the Art of Coffee, 405 West 23rd St.

In the cup Ah, Brazil. When it comes to old school coffee, I've come to think there's nothing like beans from Brazil. Cue the Sinatra. "They put coffee in the coffee in Brazil."

On the morning I visited, the featured coffee was from Brazil, the Serra de Bone.

The tasting note said: "Malted chocolate and praline with a balanced acidity and a creamy, caramel finish to yield an approachable cup." It was so delicious and amazing that it didn't even bother me that one guy was sprawled with stuff across all three chairs in the window of the shop.

I decided to go heavy on the Brazilian flavors with the two bags of beans that I bought.

The seasonal house blend (Mogiana from Brazil, Tingo Maria from Peru) lived up to its tasting notes: "Cocoa-nosed sweetness with lovely tones of brown sugar and a lingering honey finish for an elegant and approachable cup."

That's a description right up my alley, and this didn't disappoint me. For the past couple of weeks, I made this at home as both espresso and Americanos.

At the office, using my Aeropress, I have been enjoying the Fazenda Sertãozinho.

The bag described it as "drenched in rich, dark chocolate. Tons of sugarcane, caramel, Satsuma tangerine, honey, vanilla and malted milk imbue this with an elegant and approachable sweetness." I didn't pick up much tangerine, but this is accurate.

Another nice thing about my Joe experience: The bags are generous with 12 ounces of beans, and not overpriced -- generally $11 to $13 per bag.

Maybe I got lucky. Maybe the tasting notes were spot-on (despite the overuse of "approachable.") Maybe I should thank Ecco Caffe or the nation of Brazil.

But it is rather rare for me to buy three coffees in one place and like them all.

Of the three, I like the Fazenda Sertãozinho best, and wish I had some at home right now. Alas, the bag is sitting in a cupboard in the office.

From the Aptly Named Wondo Worka

img_0464Yes, I'm coffee-blogging again. After ambiguously adequate experiences with single-source beans from Starbucks and Joe the Art of Coffee, I high-tailed it back to my regular source of beans this week.

I'm sorry to report that the Costa Rican coffee from Starbucks remained bitter until the bitter end. I finally mixed it up with the last of the Indian Mysore, which made them both somewhat passable, because I hate to waste beans. But it was a chore. A change was in order. Name: Wondo Worka Co-Op

Origin: Yerga Cheffe or Yirgacheffe, Ethiopia. Nobody can quite agree on the spelling, apparently.

Roasted: Jan. 27 by Verve Coffee Roasters, Santa Cruz, Ca.

Purchased: Feb. 2 at Café Grumpy, 224 W. 20th St., Manhattan, between Seventh and Eighth Avenues.

Description: Nothing on the bag but the shop's menu says, "Notes of honey and apricot fill this clean sweet cup."

The Pour: It was a pleasure to try this bean as regular pressed coffee at Café Grumpy twice this week after dropping my daughter off at school, and as espresso shots this weekend. (I had a cold in the latter part of the week that I am still trying to shake, so that may interfere with my impressions.)

When I bought the beans, I ordered a 12-ounce cup of the same and was quite satisfied. I had it again on a second visit two days later. I was still drinking the other stuff at home, and the contrast was startling. This was so much better.

It's hard to find much online about the Wondo Worka cooperative. It is reportedly grown in the Sidamo province of the southern Yirgacheffe region of Ethiopia, like this "floral shining citrus" bean that I tried in this ongoing coffee-blogging quest.

In December, Ken David's Coffee Review, a leading buying guide, rated this coffee highly, saying:

Intense, bright aroma: tart coffee cherry, honey, a hint of fir, flowers. In the cup tartly sweet acidity, honeyish mouthfeel and flavor, with molasses, pipe tobacco and deep, rose-like floral notes. Very sweet, fruit-saturated, perfectly clean finish... A dramatically light roast liberates both acidity and sweetness and allows an unusual honey, molasses and rose-like floral character full expression.

A different roaster described the flavor this way: "A beautiful harmony of sweet citrus and lingering florals — lime, meyer lemon lavender cake, jasmine, and a hint of ripe honeydew."

And here is one that offers some "history":

In the lore of the bean, coffee was first discovered by an Ethiopian shepherd who noticed his goats going nuts after eating these particular cherries. So he began eating them to stay awake on long nights guarding his flock: it worked and the rest is history. You can still taste those wild nights in every cup of Yergacheffe: not too heavy or spicey and with that touch of wilderness, it is a satisfying full-bodied cup. Every coffee drinker should try the original.

I must say, these descriptions still crack me up a little, though I know what they're trying to convey. In a cup made on a Clover at the shop, I definitely found the coffee sweet with a touch of citrus, not overpowering as with the last bean I tried from this region. (And this marks the second time I've been pleased with a Verve roast.)

As an espresso, the flavor seemed more honey and molasses at first. By the third shot over the course of this morning, my head cleared -- a wonder worker from Wondo Worka? By then, I was picking up the lemon flavor, especially at the finish.

And after the unpleasant bitter experience of the Starbucks Bella Vista, it was a welcome change of pace. I'm not ready to declare an end to the quest, but this is fine coffee.

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?