An Opinion About Blue Batak

It is a little known fact that coffee improves your objectivity as a journalist. O.K., I'm kidding. I don't believe in "objectivity" and usually avoid the word. It sounds like an impossible God-like standard. Most people who use that term are setting up a straw man. I prefer terms like balance, neutrality, fairness. And conventional newspaper journalism can certainly reach conclusions, so long as they are supported by evidence, and qualified.

This just happens to be a topic on my mind and in my Twitter stream. The fairness/objectivity debate is in the air.

I work for a news organization that promises fairness and ethics. Like Buddhist enlightenment and perfection in general, they may not be attainable. The value to the reader comes from aiming for the worthy goal, without fear or favor, bias or prejudice. Even the best newspapers print corrections every day, but they still set accuracy as the standard. We don't give up because perfect accuracy is unattainable. A journalist who expresses political opinions risks abandoning the habit of keeping an open mind, risks losing the audience and access to sources that might give a more well-rounded picture of the debate, whatever it might be.

There's a risk that a decided mind is a closed one that overlooks facts and lacks empathy for all sides in a contested debate. Reserving judgment is a sound habit for a political journalist, and others who cover controversial topics.

For these reasons, I don't share my political opinions, when I have them. Most traditional journalists are the same. The work should speak for itself. A great reporter should be able to cover an atheists' convention or a Christian revival without drawing complaints of bias from any quarter and without revealing any beliefs about God. Who cares about one person's opinion, really? Opinions are plentiful and easy to come by. Reporting is hard work. It is a higher calling than argument and persuasion.

But we're here to talk about coffee. I have opinions about it. No contradiction there. I don't have a problem passing judgment on coffee, the quality of books and writing, TV shows, the usefulness of gadgets and other topics. For one thing, my day job does not involve reporting about or critiquing these things. They also fall in the realm of inconsequential opinions, right up there with "nice weather" and "you look great." So let's return to my coffee quest.

Name Blue Batak

Origin Mandheling, Sumatra

Roasted Sept. 1 by Verve Coffee Roasters of Santa Cruz.

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

Description Chocolate and caramel biscuit tones, earthy graham-cracker graininess, citrus, dried pineapple and plum, tree bark, cinnamon stick, etc. (see below).

In the Cup The Verve Web site, alas, still seems to be a work in progress. All I know about Sumatra and Blue Batak are from this entry at Sweet Maria's:

We offer the top grade, specially-prepared Lintong coffees as Blue Batak in honor of the Toba Batak people. Blue Batak is a near-zero defect preparation, without the usual split beans, broken pieces and crud found in standard Sumatras. It is carefully density sorted and triple-hand-sorted. The dry fragrance has chocolate and caramel biscuit tones, but with a slight earthy and graham cracker graininess. Surprising fruits come forward in the wet aroma, even a momentary whiff of citrus, pineapple, dried plum, fig. It's got great rustic sweetness, aromatic tree bark, cinnamon stick, black tea, and mulling spice in the finish. The body is a bit lighter than the Onan Ganjang micro-lot we have as a sister lot, even though they come from areas that are very close to each other. It also has less of the herbal notes found in other Lintong coffees, which I think makes it a better choice for use in espresso.

So -- no crud -- got that? That's quite a laundry list of flavors. I can't speak to the tree bark, but there was a finish of black tea and certainly a sweetness. I liked this coffee quite a bit, as I often do when there's a hint of chocolate and caramel. I mostly drank it as an espresso. No crud. (Here's some more information about the Dutch term Mandehling)

Good coffee. Nice weather. You look great.

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.