Coffee, Hot and Cold

Inside Third Rail Coffee at 240 Sullivan St. in Greenwich Village. This is a quickie coffee post, dashed off while watching the U.S.-England World Cup match and discussing the propriety of promiscuously using "tweet" in news articles. First, a word about B. Koffie's Yirgacheffe and Kenya French Mission offerings. Kudos to La Columbe, the roaster. I sampled the latter and refilled my Mason jar with the former on a May 29 visit. Both were tasty and in line with the descriptions on the boards.

Read my earlier post about this Hell's Kitchen shop, a relative newcomer to the neighborhood.

On June 6, I found myself near Washington Square Park for the Wrs. orld Science Fair and in need of coffee. It was a short walk to Third Rail Coffee, which offers beans from Intelligentsia, one of my favorite roasters.

A friend encouraged me to try the "cold brew," a form of iced coffee (Stumptown offers it too, but I haven't tried it). To brew coffee this way, you soak the beans overnight in room-temperature water. Some say cold brew -- also known as "cold press" coffee -- is less acidic and easier on the stomach, while others seem to think it offers a bigger caffeine punch.

I drink hot coffee year-round, but I'm not above switching to iced coffee at this time of year. I'll probably have to try cold brew again. It was delicious, but this one experience was not enough for me to conclude anything.

Third Rail is a cute shop, comfortable, humming with traffic (see the photo at the top of the post). This was my first visit, and I expect I'll be back.

The coffee scene is taking off in New York. (I am slowly making my way down the list of top coffee shops in that TImes article; see my post on Birch Coffee.) It's going to be a great summer.

A Tea-Flavored Cup From Nimac Kapeh

img_0470I've come to appreciate sellers and roasters who blog about their single-source culinary coffees, giving some background on the beans, how they found them, who grew them. So it was that I learned that "Nimac Kapeh" is (reputedly) a Mayan phrase that means "the place of coffee." As I have hinted before, my personal Nimac Kapeh is Café Grumpy on 20th Street in Chelsea, which is where I found myself again on Thursday after my daughter and I were thwarted on a trip to a nearby knitting store, which was closed. I picked up two bags of beans, including this one. Name: Nimac Kapeh

Origin: Atitlan region of Guatemala

Roasted: Feb. 9 by Barismo of Arlington, Ma.

Purchased: Feb. 14 at Café Grumpy, 224 W. 20th St., Manhattan, between Seventh and Eighth Avenues.

Description: "Tea-like, floral, and a mellow soft red fruit acidity."

The Pour: I recognized the Barismo bag from a previous selection in my coffee quest, the so-called Poker-Face Espresso blend, which I came to enjoy considerably back in December.

On his blog, Jaime van Schyndel of Barismo describes the trip to the obscure Atitlan region and the challenges in identifying the right beans. The final choice was a blend of small lots from many different farmers:

When we traveled to Guatemala this year, the coffees we identified with most were the Atitlans. It was a good weather year this year there and the product from Atitlan had stronger, almost Yirgacheffe-like, aromas. Soft rose and cherry blossom floral were descriptions we uttered more than a few times. The problem was finding a clean coffee that fit our tastes. This coffee struck us as a very balanced and fruit forward coffee... It was the best Atitlan we found on the trip... part of a large mill blend where farmers submit the farm lots which are so small you are unable to break the receipts down to a single farm but only down to a single day or stretch of days.

I noticed that the blog post said the flavors varied depending on how it was prepared, with a hotter cup resulting in the tea-like flavors. The bag recommended brewing it as a regular cup with some fairly specific instructions (205 degrees, 1 tbsp per five ounces of water). So I tried my best to approximate that, too.

I tend to prefer espresso, regardless of the recommendations, but since I had also bought a bag of espresso beans from Brazil (more on that later this week), I figured I would follow the instructions this time.

On opening the vacuum-sealed bag, I was caught up short by the fresh aroma. Mmm.

On tasting the cup, I definitely caught the cherry and tea-like flavors described at the Barismo blog (though I have never had old-time teaberry gum, another comparisons made by Van Schyndel). Again, I am by no means an expert in these matters -- just trying to teach myself.

The Nimac Kapeh was a bit like sipping tea, with no hint of the bitterness or sourness you sometimes get with coffee, even supposedly good beans. I was happy to drink it black, when my tendency is to add skim or soy milk when I drink by the cup, as opposed to espresso, which I take straight these days.

It had a rich, sweet finish (Barismo compared it to brown sugar -- I guess so). Very interesting. I'm going to enjoy this one and miss it when it's gone. It was a great complement to a quiet, pleasant Sunday in the middle of a long weekend, listening to music with my wife and puttering around (our daughter was on a play date).

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.