Sweet on Finca La Folie

I found myself on a fool's errand tryingIMG_0104 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.

Coming Back Around to the Flor Azul

IMG_0103This direct-trade variety from Nicaragua was one of the earliest culinary coffees I wrote about on this blog, back in November 2008, when I first started to systematically evaluate the beans I was trying. Back then, I thought I knew a fair amount about coffee, but I really didn't know anything. My knowledge was limited to some basic presumptions I had about the geographic origins of various coffees. I didn't know much about individual growers or roasters. That level of detail was not readily available on the Web or on packaging until this third-wave era of coffee geekery with its focus on elevations, how beans are grown, dried and roasted, and the precise temperature settings on super-expensive coffee-making equipment. It used to be the specifics of coffee bean origins were known only to buyers, tasters and really obsessed fans. Maybe I'm turning into one of the latter, but I still have a lot to learn about the topic. I doubt I'll ever be an expert. I don't have the palate, or the patience, or the equipment. But when I saw that the Flor Azul was in season again, I was curious if my impressions of it had changed.

Name Flor Azul

Origin Las Brumas Cooperative in the Jinotega, Matagalapa region of Nicaragua.

Roasted Aug. 25 by Intelligentsia.

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

Description Direct trade. Caturra, Catui grown at 1200-1550 meters. From the Web: "Flor Azul lays bare a flawless cup; clean and composed. Notes of melon fruit and apples express themselves affably in the forefront, hinting slightly toward citrus. The acidity plays a supporting role—adding lift to the mouthfeel as Swiss chocolate comes through in the finish."

In the cup The first time around, I think I mostly drank this as a regular coffee, drowned in soy milk, having found it too weird in general, and certainly too strong as espresso, my preferred way to take coffee. We were also having some water problems in our building last fall, and I had a cold. So many excuses. This time around, I tried it again as an espresso and as a regular cup of coffee.

It is certainly a challenging taste, lighter-bodied than I like and coming on strong first with flavors I guess are the melon and apple, but I've never been good at identifying those notes in a coffee. These seem to be notes that a lot of pro tasters value, but I still find it a bit weird in coffee. The reported chocolate finish was very slight to my taste.

So, this remains a complicated coffee for me, and while I recognize it as something good, and unusual, it's not something I can bring myself to drink every day. It's more of an interesting change of pace, but not something I will go out of my way to find again.

(Luckily, I have some other tasty selections I'm trying, roasted by Ritual and Verve, that I bought at Grumpy on the same day, and the excellent Montes de Oro from Stumptown.)

So, this was not an aha coffee. But that's OK. When you get down to the drinking, coffee is still a matter of personal taste. I'm learning that you can recognize something as good, of high quality, without loving it. I know there are a lot of people who enjoy Flor Azul, judging by some of the sell-side raves online, and it can be a way to jolt people with a new idea of what coffee can be, but this is not a selection I would want to drink with any regularity.

The Coffee of Monte Crisol

IMG_0011I bought this coffee on Father's Day, before my daughter and her friends cooked the dads a delicious dinner of salmon, salad, fruit salad and other good stuff. It had been raining in New York City for days, but the sun came out briefly. I bought this instead of the first place winner in the Cup of Excellence, the Fazenda Kaquend, from Brazil, roasted by Ritual Roasters in San Francisco, which my favorite Chelsea cafe was offering for an astounding but perhaps understandable $35 per bag. Instead, I bought a bag of these less expensive beans from Costa Rica for about half that. I ordered a cup of the Brazilian to go, and it was delicious. But as I walked, about half way up the block to the friends' apartment where we were having dinner, I was drenched in a sudden downpour, so I don't remember much more about that cup. Oh, well.

Name Monte Crisol, Coope Palmares

Origin West Valley, Costa Rica

Roasted June 14 by 49th Parallel in Burnaby, British Columbia

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

Description From the menu: "Medium body with hints of nuts, caramel and red berries."

In the Cup I gravitated to this bean because it was from Costa Rica, and I had yet to try any coffees from that country as part of this coffee quest. Later, I could not find the coffee listed under this name at the site of 49th Parallel, a Vancouver-area coffee roaster. Based on reviews and listings elsewhere, it seems to be a single-origin coffee. Coope palmeres (sometimes the words are run together) seems to be a coffee co-op representing several small growers. Here is a bit of information from the site hawaiianorganic:

This dense little "Tica", the creme of the crema, and is mountain grown, above 1,600 meters, and hails from Coopepalmares, a coffee coop which represents 1,500 small lot parcels in and around the Las Palmares region of Costa Rica. This coffee has delightful bright citrus tones with slight coco hidden in the background. Medium bodied, medium acidity allow one to enjoy naked... The coffee that is... not necessarily you!?

I'm not really sure what that means. But drinking this as an espresso or a regular cup of coffee was a perfectly pleasant experience. It was a little rich and thick in the finish perhaps, almost oily, and I would say the caramel was stronger than any bright citrus. It served me well through the week, and I am almost done with it. I found it to be quite aromatic, and the odor permeated my cloth bag by the time I got it home from the dinner party. It didn't bowl me over, but it was certainly acceptable and did the job required of it each morning.

By the way, I kept misreading the name as "Cristol" with a T, and that tempted me into the cheap word play in the headline. This would never pass muster as a headline in the newspaper, because it does not "work both ways." In other words, for good word play, as opposed to dumb puns, the phrase should fit the piece no matter which way you read it. But this post has nothing to do with that old book about revenge for a false imprisonment, which I remember from my youth.

But since this is a blog, I can fiddle around and break a few rules as I please. Sue me.

A Week of Sweet Tooth Yellow Icatu

img_0465In my seemingly never-ending quest for the perfect home-made espresso, I was stopped short last weekend by a bean that came incredibly close. I just didn't have time to write about it, so I've been drinking it all week, alternating with this oddly tea-like but delicious coffee from Barismo that seems better suited to what the non-Americans call a cup of American coffee. Which can be a lovely beverage, no matter what the snobs say. Anyway, I bought these espresso beans at the same time, and have been enjoying that Brazilian flavor that took Frank Sinatra to no. 6 on the charts in 1946. Name: Fazenda Esperança Sweet Tooth Espresso Yellow Icatu

Origin: Campos Altos, Brazil, in the Cerrado region

Roasted: Feb. 9 by Ritual Coffee Roasters in San Francisco

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

Description: "The aroma of this espresso carries the shot, with ripe and fruity notes of lychee and concord grape, and a cherry soda sweetness emerges before a subtle dark chocolate finishes the shot," Ritual reports on its Web site.

The Pour: When I first tasted it, I thought, this is the shot I've been looking for. It was the chocolate-like finish, not overpoweringly sweet, but smooth and delicious. No bitterness whatsoever. I'll take the taster's word on the cherry soda (see those Coffee Song lyrics below), but it must be just a hint. A strong flavor like that would be a turnoff to me -- though cherries and chocolate is a great combination. Anyway, the description might lead you to think this is more like a hot chocolate, and that is not the case. It's a coffee that a coffee lover should love. Hm, I seem to be gushing. And I am definitely heading back downtown to see if there's any more left.

(While poking around on the Web, I found some blog reviews of an earlier crop of beans from the same farm.)

Ritual is promising that 2009 will be the year of the "Sweet Tooth Espressos,"

San Francisco is notoriously a city of coffee fanatics, which from time to time makes me wish I lived there (alas, the journalism opportunities are not so great). I can only hope that Grumpy orders more as the year continues. (More on how Ritual roasts).

Here is what Ritual says about Fazenda Esperança:

Produced by the Souza family--João and Tiago--in Campos Altos, Brasil, this coffee is specially roasted for espresso preparation. Their farm, Fazenda Esperança, is located in Brasil's Cerrado eco-region, known for its exceptional natural, or sun-dried, coffees--made possible by the particularly arid climate. After the Yellow Icatu trees are harvested, the coffee fruit naturally dries on concrete patios until it can be easily hulled off of the coffee bean. Because of the extra contact time that the bean has with the fruit, the coffee absorbs more sugar, which is evident in the shot.

It is not clear to me if this is the same Souza family. But doesn't that just make you love the Web? I must admit to being a sucker for these descriptions of hand-crafted coffee processes.

Now, how does that Sinatra coffee song go?

Way down among Brazilians Coffee beans grow by the billions So they've got to find those extra cups to fill They've got an awful lot of coffee in Brazil

You can't get cherry soda cause they've got to fill that quota And the way things are I'll bet they never will They've got a zillion tons of coffee in Brazil