An Update on the Coffee Situation

The Krups Espressaria full automatic espresso machine. 

Earlier this year, we moved to Chelsea, and now live I within in a couple of blocks of Cafe Grumpy. It is among the best, if not the best, place for coffee in Manhattan. That has made me exceptionally lazy about seeking out new coffee shops. When I lived in Midtown, I had no choice but to hop on my bike or the subway to get good beans and a cafe vibe.

A couple of months before we moved, my refurbished Jura machine jammed up in some way, and I didn't have time to deal with it. Half of our stuff was in storage while the real estate agents, lawyers, condo boards and bankers toyed with us.

When the dust settled, I decided to treat myself to a Christmas present, this Krups machine. I like some things about it more than the Jura, but it requires a lot more regular attention and cleaning. The bean and water containers seem smaller.

But the more pressing matter right now is that I am almost out of Heartbreaker.  It's time to head to Grumpy.

From the Coopac Cooperative in Rwanda

A sign of a good coffee, I think, is that you can drink a full cup readily without any added dairy, soy or other coolants and flavorings. Most of the time I drink espresso, which generally works as a concentrated shot to the stomach and central nervous system, but on a crazy snowy day -- we've had a lot of them in New York lately -- I like to linger over over a regular mug made with the refurbished Jura, which is still going strong nearly two years later. Coffee Coopac Cooperative, Gisenyi Region, Rwanda

Roasted: Feb. 3 by Café Grumpy in Brooklyn.

Purchased Feb. 7 at Grumpy's Chelsea location, 224 W. 20th St., between Seventh and Eighth Avenues.

Description The bag says: "Floral aroma leads to notes of pineapple, vanilla, and red currants. Sweet key-lime brightness to the finish."

In the Cup I picked this up on Super Bowl Sunday after spending some time soaking and sweating out toxins at Spa Castle in Queens (great place for grownups and kids). I would normally have been put off by the complicated description, but I had tried a few cups of this in the shop. The fact that I'm running out of it after just a week speaks to its appeal.

"This coffee is grown on the volcanic mountain slopes in the Western Province of Rwanda and comes to us from the Coopac Cooperative. Washed Bourbon varietal," the Grumpy site says (this is one of the small chain's own roasts). There's more detail at the cooperative's Web site.

The crema on top is particularly foamy, and whatever there might be of pineapple, currants and key lime is subtle. Sure, you can smell that if you stick your nose in the mug, but on the tongue you don't pick up much in the way of fruitiness. Even the hint of vanilla did not seem particularly pronounced. This was a rich, delicious, substantial cup from start to finish. It still appears to be on the menu at Grumpy, so if you're wondering what to try, go for it -- and leave out the milk.

A Side Trip to Stumptown, Manhattan

People I know who have spent time in the Portland area have raved about Stumptown Coffee for years. They roast the beans right in the store! Nothing on the East Coast compares! So after the second-day-of-school parents' breakfast on Friday, my wife and I tagged along through the rain when another parent suggested we walk over to the new Stumptown outlet in the Ace Hotel in an area that some people are trying to call SoMa (for "South of Macy's") in the high 20s off Broadway. The shop was nicely appointed, with a classic feel, more upscale than your average grungy coffee shop. The baristas wore neckties and jaunty hipster hats (which were mocked by some on Twitter when I posted a quick slideshow on Posterous).

The service was great. This is not one of those places where people linger over laptops. There are no chairs, which keeps people from lingering too long. Diner's Journal declares the shop's style to be distinctly New York.

My wife ordered a soy decaf latte, which she declared to be just fine. She's not a big coffee fan.

I had a house espresso, which was tasty and as good as shots pulled at Cafe Grumpy and Ninth Street Espresso, my other favorite Manhattan coffee haunts. Was it better? No, sorry, Stumptown fans. Something else was missing: Unlike in Portland, the beans are not roasted on the premises. Stumptown imports the beans and roasts them locally in Red Hook, Brooklyn.

I ended up spending my last dollar on this bag of beans from Costa Rica, because Stumptown wasn't taking credit cards. Dudes, nobody carries money in New York anymore.

Name Montes de Oro

Origin: San Pablo de Tarrazu, Costa Rica

Roasted: Sept. 6 by Stumptown Coffee.

Purchased: Sept. 11 at Stumptown in the Ace Hotel at 18 West 29th Street and Broadway, Manhattan.

Description From the excellent, detailed Stumptown Web site (includes video): "Rainier cherry and clementine orange flavors meld harmoniously with sweet notes of honey, caramel and milk chocolate."

In the cup There was no real description on the bag, so I went with my gut, having had good experiences with Costa Rican coffees (tthough not always). I definitely got lucky. First of all, if you've read my past entries, you'll know I tend to have a sweet tooth when it comes to coffee.

This coffee is delicious and left me feeling warm on this chilly, damp Saturday morning before I took my daughter to her gymnastics class, where I'm taking advantage of the free WiFi at Chelsea Piers upstairs to write this post during the class. I have a great view of my kid walking backward on the balance beam. I'm also playing Calexico on the iPhone because the chattering parents around me are making me a little nuts. My multitasking life.

Stumptown reports: "The producers behind Montes de Oro, Emilio and Laura Gamboa, cultivate their coffee in San Pablo de Tarrazu. Emilio personally oversees the processing each and every night of the harvest. He ensures strictly ripe cherry and fully washes it with INGESEC technology. The coffee is gently dried on African beds, which provides time for sugar development." Oh, just go watch the video.

Other reviewers of this coffee, including the 2008 vintage, have described it as fruitier -- pineapple, thistle and kiwi? Maybe a little clementine orange in there? I didn't pick up on any of that. Maybe those flavors come out in a regular coffee. I made this as espresso in the Jura and was grooving on the caramel, honey and chocolate. Sweet, but not too sweet.

I highly recommend this one, and I guess I'll have to leave some extra time now and then for another side trip to Stumptown to try some of the others. They had a whole assortment.

Taste of Agua Preta From Carmo de Minas

Earlier this week, my quest for a perfect cup of home-made coffee took me to Chelsea Market, where I picked up this direct-trade coffee from the outpost of Ninth Street Espresso at the market. This was part of my at-home vacation, or staycation, which mostly entailed watching my daughter do gymnastics; taking her to a bookstore, a tea house, and a museum; reading some books; sharing fresh Belgian beer with some friends; working out; updating my Twitter status; and, of course, drinking coffee. Name: Agua Preta, Brazil.

Origin: Produced by Antonio Pereira de Castro and Glaucio Pinto of Fazenda Tijuco Preto in the Carmo de Minas region of Brazil.

Roasted: April 6 or8 by Intelligentsia.

Purchased: April 13 at Ninth Street Espresso, Chelsea Market, 75 Ninth Avenue, between 15th and 16th Streets.

Description: "A silky yet buoyant mouthfeel combines with notes of brown sugar and caramel to create an exquisitely delectable cup. A tamed acidity allows for notes of fudge to blossom right before the buttery finish."

In the cup: I was at first taken aback by what appeared to be a very old roasting date, which I just found in very tiny type on the price tag. But Ken Nye of Ninth Street Espresso has corrected me in the comments, noting that I was probably misreading the tag and that no coffees he sells are older than 12 days. I'm sorry I doubted. The coffee certainly tasted fresh.

This Yellow Catuai was grown at 1200 meters and harvested in August. Here is an excerpt from the tasting notes from Kyle Glanville, director of espresso at the roaster (full PDF is here):

Agua Preta is our first DT Brazilian coffee for filter, and this first lot comes from Fazenda Tijuco Preto, itself a two-time finalist in the Cup of Excellence competitions. Tijuco Preto is blessed with natural springs and a high-altitude plateau that makes harvesting cherries an efficient and easy task. This pulped natural coffee offers striking balance and drinkability with soft acidity, a perfect cup for a lazy morning with the paper.

Well, where to begin. I've been drinking this as espresso for much of the week. This morning I tried it as a regular coffee. Setting aside my ambivalence about the term "mouth feel,' it was definitely silky in both cases. I don't know about buoyant. The acidity is low, though the espressos were slightly more acidic. The hints of chocolate, caramel and fudge were there, more or less, especially in the espresso version, but the finish -- I guess it is buttery -- it is most noticeable in the filter version for some reason. Is "buttery" really the right word? Oh, I suppose. It's a tasty cup of joe.

This Is Chapadao de Ferro (Microlot 494)

This has not been a good month for my coffee-blogging. We had some distracting news at the office, then a couple of weeks ago, I was laid low by a burning lump of fire in my throat that turned out to be strep. My daughter and eight other kids in her class, plus the teacher and some parents, probably came down with it too. It took a while to shake that, and the cure was in some ways worse than the illness, but I finally seem to be on the mend. At least I got some reading done. So I wasn't drinking as much coffee, and I still had quite a supply of the Ecuadorean beans from Whole Foods. About a week ago, though, I stopped by Cafe Grumpy with my daughter and was pleased to see some selections that were right up my alley. This is the first of the two. Name: Chapadão de Ferro - Microlot 494

Origin: Patrocinio, Brasil

Roasted: March 31 by Ritual Coffee Roasters

Purchased: April 5 at Café Grumpy, 224 W. 20th St., Manhattan, between Seventh and Eighth Avenues.

Description: "Clean and sweet, with beautiful acidity and flavors of butterscotch, dutch cocoa, and dried fruits."

In the cup: I was drinking this as an espresso most of the week, and had not been particularly impressed. But it was a lousy, busy week so I started fresh day with a regular cup, no milk. First I had to clean the Jura machine, which demands attention every 200 coffees or so. I dropped the white pill in the top and went through the rinsing procedure to get rid of coffee oil buildup. This may have affected the flavor of the espressos last week.

Here is the marketing pitch from RItual:

In the center of an extinct volcano in Patrocinio, Brasil, Ruvaldo Delarisse produces this natural, or sun-dried, coffee 1200 meters above sea level. The soil at Chapadão de Ferro is uniquely rich in iron, rendering the farm’s name (“Plateau of Iron”), as well as a flavor that is similarly unique to Cerrado, the eco-region. Ruvaldo sun-dries the coffee fruit off of the bean on concrete patios, which helps develop both body and sweetness in this coffee.

The Plateau of Iron, now that's a phrase to conjure with. Its a good coffee. It's not knocking my socks off. It's typical coffee acidity is easy to take (is that the "beautiful" part?) and maybe there is indeed a hint of cocoa (that is what caught my attention on the Grumpy menu). Butterscotch? I wasn't getting it. Dried fruits? Not really. I guess I remain something of a barbarian without a refined coffee palate. I found myself wishing I had instead picked up the single origin espresso from El Salvador -- Finca la Ponderosa microlot roasted by Verve -- that I had tried in the shop when I bought this. The barista pulled a shot that was funky, muddy and tasted like the side of a mountain, but I loved it. It was perfect for that moment, anyway. Still, this Brazilian is perfectly acceptable, better than most coffee you could get anywhere and better than many beans I have reviewed on the blog. I can't wait to try the other coffee I bought and have kept sealed in deep cool storage -- a Colombian bean roasted by Intelligentsia. Perhaps tomorrow.

A Couple of Shots of F. W. Tres Rio Bella Vista

In my defense, I live in a neighborhood that has more square feet under the control of Starbucks than it has space devoted to food markets, bank branches or even Duane Reade drugstores. There is just one independent coffee shop, several blocks away, and it serves bad coffee. Plus, it was cold last night, 20 degrees, and the Starbucks was right there, still open, as we walked back from dinner, having just learned that our favorite sushi joint had gone out of business. And I remembered that a relative had given me a $200 Starbucks gift card more than a year ago, and it still had some money left. I needed some beans, having nearly run out of the Indian Mysore. And who knows, if a Starbucks bean turns out to be the object of my quest, that would be convenient. Name: Bella Vista

Origin: F. W. Tres Rios in Costa Rica, "in the rolling hills outside San Jose," according to the bag, "one of the region's oldest and last remaining estates. Guided by a proud tradition of quality and the long-term support of Starbucks, the owners have perfected time-honored farming methods to harvest and process the beans right on the estate and established social programs to improve the farmers' livelihoods."

Roasted: No date listed, but the bag urges "for fresh-roasted flavor, enjoy before 18 July 2009."

Purchased: Jan. 31 at Starbucks, Broadway and West 54th Street. With my purchase, I received a free cup of drip coffee, as is the custom. (Decaf, which was ready, surprisingly.)

Description: I was going to just grab a bag of the Starbucks Pike Place Blend or its espresso, but the above bag with its green leafy motif and small pictures of the farmers themselves caught my attention. "Always a favorite in our tasting room, Bella Vista is surprisingly complex with a satisfying citrus sparkle, floral notes evocative of orange blossoms and a refreshing finish."

The Pour: I have mixed feelings about Starbucks. For years, my wife and I owned some shares of SUBX in our IRAs, and for many years they reliably rose above the market rate. I had always been impressed by the quality of the service, and the cozy "third place" branding. You could always sit in a Starbucks for an hour or two, working, reading, drinking coffee. In a pinch, you could always pop into one to use the bathroom, which was reasonably clean, nothing to scoff at in New York City. But over the last couple of years, stores seemed a little dirtier, some of the staff less knowledgeable and eager to please, and the coffee, not quite so good. That led to the comeback of the founder Howard Schultz, who wondered whether mass production had led the chain on a path to mediocrity. (Around the same time, we were treated to the tale of Schultz -- a New York resident -- wandering into Cafe Grumpy and declaring the cup made on the Chelsea shop's Clover machine the best cup of coffee he had ever tasted).

So I thought I'd see if Schultz has managed to sneak some good culinary beans into the store. Bella Vista is exclusive to SBUX and supposedly the finest coffee from what is the best coffee region in Costa Rica. Not surprisingly, the chain is a dominant force in the Costa Rican coffee industry.

The price of Bella Vista was reasonable, but the quantity was large -- 16 ounces of beans. But, as I mentioned, I had this old gift card -- personalized and customized with a cartoon approximation of a bicycle-riding New Yorker -- in my wallet. I'd been having trouble using up the money on it, because a couple of months after it was given to me as a gift, I bought the refurbished Jura-Capresso machine and embarked on my quest for great home coffee, both to save money and time. The lines at Starbucks near the office were long, and the coffee seemed to be getting worse.

So how's that comeback going? Well, some people often complain that Starbucks coffee tastes overly bitter, in part because of its "over-roasting" technique. Time was, I didn't mind that strong flavor. But I've been tasting many different styles of culinary coffee lately, and perhaps my tastes have changed. I found Bella Vista distinctive and strong but far too bitter. I have tried a number of beans that claimed to have floral or citrus flavors. It is certainly adequate, and probably better in a cappuccino or a regular cup with milk.

With a business model aimed at mass production and mass shipping and gimmicks like customized gift cards, it's hard to see how Starbucks can compete on the high end, which would require fresher beans from more sources -- in other words, more inventory. And if people will line up for "good enough" coffee, why should the chain cater to someone looking for a finer quality? Starbucks is aiming consistently at the middle.

The Bella Vista bean might grow on me, but I doubt it. After my experience with changing perceptions of last week's coffee, I'm willing to give it a few more days. For one thing, just as I started to make these shots, the Jura's computer decided it was time for a cleaning tablet and procedure (it requires this to remove oils from the brewing chamber after about 200 coffees), so perhaps that might make a difference. (Update: It didn't.)

And I will have to go back to Starbucks at some point. I have $34 left on the gift card. Maybe I should stage an espresso blend showdown with Joe the Art of Coffee.

A Shot of Cider Currant Spice From Rwanda

High-end culinary coffee tends to be marketed in specifically political ways. The goal may be to make the customer feel virtuous, or at least more at ease. Maybe buying a particular batch of beans will help the environment or a third-world economy. (There is an ideological divide, even in coffee, between free traders and those who advocate fair or direct trade.) When I hear "Rwanda," I think of the 1990s upheaval and genocide that left that African country in ruins. So I was curious to see this bag of beans and decided to give it a try. Rwanda's coffee industry was nearly destroyed in that era, but now is undergoing a resurgence, thanks to a chain of cooperative farms and efforts to provide simple economic tools, like bicycles. Name: Cider Currant Spice Origin: Nyakizu Cooperative, Byumba Provence, Zirkana, Rwanda Roasted: Jan. 6. Purchased: Jan. 10 at Café Grumpy, 224 W. 20th St., Manhattan, between Seventh and Eighth Avenues. Description: Bourbon, grown at 1500 - 1900 meters above sea level. The Pour: Quite tasty. It is a light and frothy mixture, more spice than cider, I'd say. Perfect for a snowy holiday day in New York. There's no overpowering aftertaste, and it goes down smoothly. Coffee tasters call it a "bright" cup, and I'm starting to get a sense of what they mean by that. I could drink this all day, and I just might. There was not a lot of information on the bag, although I found references elsewhere to the Nyakizu Cooperative, established in 2006. Here's a reference to the 2007 batch from this same cooperative:

The coffee, an Arabica Bourbon, is grown in rich, volcanic soil at a relatively high altitude and holds onto it’s milk chocolaty tones even when roasted a bit dark. Each cup I’ve pulled has given me god-like shots, heady with crema. Other reviews I’ve read recommend the bean more for press coffee than espresso, as there is a bit of a sharp edge to the pulled shots. With a touch of velvety steamed milk, I thought the sharpness wasn’t a problem, but others might.

I wasn't picking up on the chocolate or the sharp edge with this roast, and I thought it worked fine as espresso. But here was another review:

When I first tried this coffee the blackcurrant rushing through with a light and gentle acidity. Underneath there is a hint of floral with a thick creamy body with a really clean and sharp aftertaste. I personally love these coffees in the filter and french press, a wonderfully complex coffee.

I'll have to try this as a regular filtered mug of coffee. The second link above also includes a lengthy history of how the genocide affected the coffee trade (many of those with specialized knowledge of the industry were killed). Specialty coffee sells for four times as much per kilo as regular old coffee, and with direct trade, the farmers keep more of the profits. I don't mind paying more for a good cup, and the marketing works: I get to feel slightly virtuous about a habit that is -- let's face it -- an indulgence, a luxury.

Several Shots of Finca Santa Isabel's Best

This felt like a long week. A lot of meetings. My daughter had her first round of standardized testing at school. Two reporters I rely on the most at work took some days off. Then a plane ditched in the Hudson. We blogged, twittered, stayed up late. It was the rare big story with a happy ending. Way back on Sunday I had bought this bag of beans and, even before the crash landing, I was making myself three fast espresso shots with the Jura to jolt myself awake each morning before rushing out the door. That did not allow much time for contemplation of how these beans compared to the others I've sampled and written about. Name: Finca Santa Isabel (Rainforest Alliance). Origin: Mountaintop plantation by the above name in Santa Rosa, Guatemala. Roasted: Jan. 6 by Verve Coffee Roasters, Santa Cruz, Calif. Purchased: Jan. 10 at Café Grumpy, 224 W. 20th St., Manhattan, between Seventh and Eighth Avenues. Description: None on the plain brown bag. But this Cup of Excellence entry described a related batch as solid, well-balanced, with good acidity, clean and sweet. The Pour: This morning, with a small amount of the bag left, I took the time to savor a shot for the first time this week. A nice layer of crema on top. My impressions from the week are confirmed: a full-bodied, tasty shot. No fruity flavors. Not overpowering. No bite or unpleasant aftertaste. Pleasant. Probably what most people would think of when you say coffee. It reminds me of the Poker Face Espresso, a blend that also had some Guatemalan beans, as well as the serviceable Heartbreaker.

According to this account, the beans -- principally Canturra and Catuai, both from the Arabica coffee family -- are grown in volcanic soil in the ideal climate, then hand-sorted a couple of times in a water process before being sun-dried on special patios. Mmmm, sounds crafty. Then there's the "innovative two-step fermentation, which results in a smoother, cleaner cup." I don't know that I buy into much coffee hype, but they do seem to be doing something right. I'm still looking for something a little richer and smoother, in my quest for an ideal cup. I also wonder if the longer delay from the roasting to my cup has had any effect.

I'm probably going to miss it when I turn to the Rwandan beans that I also bought last Sunday. That bag remains sealed in a cool place, but the bag promises a "cider currant" flavor. What was I thinking? I'll stick with the Finca Santa Rosa today and try that tomorrow.

A Shot of Poker Face Espresso

My quest for the perfect shot of home-made espresso took me to the world of blended concoctions, The name and the white bag with a handy matching clip caught my eye, though on reflection at home the packaging seemed like a waste. It didn't help that I clumsily tore the bag up, causing beans to fly all over the kitchen. Name: Poker Face Espresso

Geographic Origin: 80 percent Guatemala Finca Cardenes with 20 percent Kenya Kiandu

Description: The Kiandu's effervescent berry aroma is complimented by the Cardenes' syrupy mouthfeel and undertones of vanilla.

Date Roasted: Dec. 3, 2008, by Barismo of Arlington, MA.

Date Purchased: Dec. 8, 2008.

Source: Café Grumpy, 224 W. 20th St., between Seventh and Eighth Avenues.

The Pour: Central America meets Africa. It is a pleasant mix, though I still have trouble with the fruitier tasting espressos. This taste is milder than the "floral shining citrus" of the Kurimi, which I still have hanging around. The vanilla may help a little. The meaning of the name was a mystery. Then I searched online and found this explanation from the roaster, Jaime van Schyndel of Barismo:

Poker Face is a creation I came up with in cooperation with Nik Krankl, owner of Taste and a serious poker player. .. In one way, [his coffee career] was a throwback to his father's success in the wine industry. An acknowledgment of his father's influence and deference to an exceptional wine his father created, of the same name. Much like the Syrah, this espresso has notes of berries, vanilla, and fruit but with a creamy texture and excellent mouth feel. Looking back before you go forward is something we respect a lot in our choosing names for blends and this is no exception. Nik now takes this name a bit more literally. As a former barista myself, I understand how difficult it can be to read the espresso drinker. They rarely come out and literally say what they felt. Instead they hold it tight and keep a 'poker face' in regards to their emotions about what they just imbibed.

Effects: I think this might make a good bean for a cappucino or even an Irish coffee, but I'm drinking it straight this afternoon after a night out with some old pals Friday. I'm a little tired and have a bit of a headache, but this hit the spot. One thing I did not expect when I started this journey was how much information I would find online. But I am discovering that behind nearly every bean, there seems to be a blogger with a story to tell. Here's a tip of the cup to the collaborators at Barismo.

A Shot of Novo Decaf Espresso

There are some who say that decaf is pointless, decaf espresso even more so. But of course, decaf does contain some caffeine, so it can be a nice way to put a little life back into an evening after a long day at work. That way I don't drowse off reading monster-sized novels, listening to podcasts or watching the idiot box. My quest for the samadhi shot continues, and this is the decaffeinated edition. Name: Decaf Espresso

Description: "Nuances: Full body, sweet, slightly nutty."

Source: Café Grumpy, 224 W. 20th St., between Seventh and Eighth Avenues.

Geographic origin: Ethiopia, no region specified.

Date Roasted: Dec. 1, 2008 by Novo.

Date Purchased: Dec. 8, 2008.

The Pour: I had a spot of trouble, because I wanted to keep the decaf separated from the regular beans. My fancy coffee maker has a separate chamber for powdered coffee, so I tried at first to pre-grind the decaf and brew it that way. But I ran into some problems too embarrassing to enumerate and finally gave up, putting a small number of beans into the main chamber and letting it do everything automatically, the regular way.

The Internet can turn anyone into an expert. That is a great strength, though it has some bizarre side effects. I had always deferred my coffee choices, as I still defer wine choices, to others. But I have been learning a lot lately. And coffee makers these days mix a lot of philosophy with their marketing. But they also explain stuff, too:

Because of temperatures required to remove caffeine from raw coffee, it has thus far been impossible to decaffeinate coffee without moderating its flavor. Normally, the lowest grade coffees are used so as not to waste the best seeds (beans). Additionally, among the number of methods used to remove caffeine, most involve the use of harsh chemicals. Our mission at Novo is to find the best flavor that results from a completely natural, water-based method of decaffeination.

This is not the first time I have come across references to this organic, water process for decaf. I'm not a big decaf drinker, but this is making me think twice about the old bag of Starbucks bold decaf beans in the freezer.

Anyway, this shot was certainly full bodied, maybe a little nutty, nothing special, perhaps because of the low-grade beans and the process to take out the go-stuff.

Effects: I may have perked up a little, but I didn't want to perk up too much. I already had plenty of coffee this morning. I wrote this blog post, so I guess it had some effect. It'll be good to have around for an evening like this. My wife sometimes wants decaf, and sometimes a guest requests it. I guess I'll put it in the freezer where I had the Starbucks.

A Mug of Flor Azul Coffee

O.K., I ground the "Heartbreaker" and drank it all up, so I decided to try something different in my quest for the perfect cup of home-brewed coffee. Now I am blogging about this so I will remember the next time. Why are you reading it? That is your business. Oh, Internet. You're such a mix of exhibitionism, voyeurism, the trivial and the ineffable. Name: Flor Azul Description: Direct trade. "Creamy approachable melon." Caturra, Catui grown at 1200-1550 meters (above sea level). Source: Café Grumpy, 224 W. 20th St., between 7th and 8th Avenues. Geographic origin: Las Brumas Cooperative in the Jinotega, Matagalapa region of Nicaragua. Packaging: Sealed in thick plastic bag. By the way, is that a rotten iPhone photo of the bag, or what? Sorry, I was in a rush, and my wife doesn't want this trash lying around. Better shot by coffeeruas on Flickr. Coffee porn! Coffeeruas says: "Nice mouthfeel, smooth, apple, nutty.... very mild." Date Roasted: Nov. 4, 2008 by Intelligentsia. Date Purchased: Nov. 12, 2008. The Pour: I fired up the Jura-Capresso Impressa F9 Espresso Machine that I bought (refurbished) when I felt richer and tried this first as espresso for much of the week. But it's not an espresso bean. It seemed a little sour and bitter at the same time, without any milk. Not apple or nutty either. Thick crema. Certainly "approachable" (!) and mild. Maybe I am just not a good taster. I also have a cold, and there's been a woody taste in our building's water since the new tank was installed on the roof. Yada, yada. I decided to try a regular mug of coffee on Saturday morning, brewed strong. Still kind of sour. Less bitter. It was indeed a little creamy. Huh. Still better than average coffee and fine with soy milk. Effects: It's coffee. It does the job. I will have another mug right now. Yes, it definitely grows on you. I am waking up, shaking off the cold a little, breathing a little better. For espresso, I think I still prefer Heartbreaker. I will probably widen my search for beans to the wide selection at Porto Rico Importing Co. on Bleecker Street, which comes highly recommended by some friends who are transplanted West Coast coffee snob. It always seems too damn crowded when I'm in that neighborhood, though. Suggestions always welcome.