From Plantains to coffee....who would'a thought
before:
after:
and onward...
Thursday, January 5, 2017
Tuesday, June 11, 2013
Always something good to say about coffee!
http://well.blogs.nytimes.com/2013/06/06/this-is-your-brain-on-coffee/
http://well.blogs.nytimes.com/2013/06/06/this-is-your-brain-on-coffee/
Sunday, July 15, 2012
Proper Brewing...The KEY to A Great Coffee Experience?
I Think So...
Interview by Killian Fox
The Observer, Saturday 14 July 2012
Follow a few basic rules to brew brilliant coffee at home. Photograph: Louisa Parry for Observer Food Monthly
Stephen Leighton's magnificent coffee beans are not his only claim to fame. It's not just his exuberance and boundless enthusiasm for his profession that shines through in the beans he sells online from his West Midlands roastery. His background also sets him apart: he's also (almost certainly) the only coffee roaster to have started out working in prisons, inspired by the sitcom Porridge.
"I spent all my childhood wanting to be a prison officer and then in my first week I hated it," he says ruefully. But after hard work in his spare time, he soon devised an escape plan. "I was importing green beans for home roasting from the States, because I've always been passionate about good coffee. Then I decided to buy a little two-kilo roaster. I put it in my garage at home, built a really rubbish website and started selling online. I used to roast in the evenings after work, till until two or three in the morning, and I'd take the parcels to the post office at lunch." The plan eventually paid off. Leighton was able to give up the prison work after a few yearsand open a 10,000sq ft roastery in Stafford in the West Midlands. Now he employs 13 people and has 20,000 customers (hasbean.co.uk).
"I firmly believe that espresso should be left in the coffee shop," he advises. "Let the professionals do it because there are so many things that can go wrong and the equipment is so expensive. Brewed coffee, on the other hand, is something you can do brilliantly at home, if you follow a few very basic rules."
Beans, beans, beans
A rule of thumb for buying coffee is: the more information on the packet the better. They should be able to tell you where the coffee is from – the country, the region, even the farm where it was grown. Look for roasted-on dates. If the roaster won't tell you when it was roasted, you've got to question why. There are no "best" beans, but there are best for certain times or occasions. I tend to drink a much lighter coffee in the mornings, something floral and delicate – yirgacheffe, an Ethiopian coffee, is a good example. And in the evenings I crave something a bit sweeter with a bit more body to it – a Bolivian coffee maybe, or a great Brazilian.
Find the right water-to-bean ratio
Boil the kettle and weigh out your beans. It's all about getting the quantities right – you wouldn't bake a cake by just throwing the ingredients in. Brewed coffee tends to be 75g per litre if you use a cafetière.
The daily grind
It's better to buy beans whole and grind fresh for each cup. Grinding releases all those wonderful aromatics. Leave freshly ground coffee aside for even just 10 minutes and that amazing aroma will fade.
I would advise spending as much as your budget allows on a grinder, but you don't have to spend lots. Some of the hand-operated burr grinders are much better than the more expensive electric ones: you can get a really good Porlex for less than £40.
For a cafetière, you need a coarse grind because the coffee takes longer to brew. But different methods require a slightly different grind and these things are quite often worked out by taste. If the coffee tastes a little bit weak and insipid, you need to fine the grind. If it's a little bit strong or you're getting bits coming through, coarsen it a little.
Use a Chemex
I adore my Chemex. It's so easy to use and it's a beautiful object. Having nice equipment to brew your coffee in enhances the whole experience – and guests appreciate coffee poured from a carafe.
When the kettle has boiled, let it rest for a while. Fold the filter paper in half and in half again to form a cone and place it in the neck of the chemex. Wash the paper with hot water, letting it drip into the carafe to warm it. Pour out the water and place ground coffee in the paper, 60g per litre. Pour a small amount of water over the grains and let it sit for 20 seconds. If it's fresh coffee, you'll see bubbles appear. Then add the rest of the water, very slowly and steadily, covering all the grains. The aim is to get all the water through into the carafe within three minutes. If it's still going after four minutes, remove the filter to stop the coffee from over-extracting. Pour into warm mugs and enjoy.
Perfect cafetière coffee
The easiest way to brew great coffee. Everyone is familiar with cafetières and, because of the increased grind size, it's harder to get it wrong.When the kettle has boiled, let it rest for a while. Warm the carafe with hot water and discard before adding the ground coffee – I recommend 75g per litre because it's a slightly coarser grind. Pour in about a third of the water and leave for 30 seconds. Stir the grinds and add the remaining water. Leave for a further four minutes. Warm your cups with hot water.
When the time is up, stir once and scoop the grinds off the top. Plunge, serve and enjoy.
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
Is coffee a gateway to meditation? />
Meditation by Brian.
Be fully aware while making coffee, and you may just make the perfect cup
While tradition holds that meditation practice is usually observed in a quiet, peaceful room while sitting or reclining in one of a few specific positions, the benefits of meditation can be experienced while doing normal daily activities as well—even something as mundane as making coffee.
I’ve learned a lot about coffee over the years. I started off as a young adult with the normal grocery store coffee; Maxwell House or whatever was on sale. I would put the grounds in the pot, fill it with tap water, and push the button. It was completely brainless, and I wasn’t remotely aware of my actions while I was doing it. It became a habit, and there was no magic involved. Push button, receive drink. It didn’t taste very good.
I learned from a friend that premium coffee tastes better, so I started ordering mail-order coffee from a specialty roaster. It came in aluminum, vacuum-sealed bags. I did the same thing: Put the grounds in the pot, add water, push button. It tasted slightly better, but it still wasn’t very good.
I started to become more aware of my actions. Was I making sure the carafe was clean? Was I aware that the coffee maker was dirty and needed to be rinsed out? I opened my eyes and actually looked at the coffee maker. It was dirty. I spent some time reading instructions on how to clean it. Looking back, I now realize that this act of taking conscious effort to improve things was an early form of practice.
I still wasn’t pleased with the coffee and over the years became much more educated about the beans, the process, and the art of making coffee. I began to learn about how interconnected the flavor of the drink was with the place it was grown and the people who picked it and cleaned it and processed it. I spoke with growers in faraway lands. I learned to understand the full extent and the magic of how this simple daily pleasure was deeply intertwined with my persona and my daily happiness.
Today, I am very careful about making coffee and I enjoy making it for others. It’s ritualistic, calming, quiet, reflective, and rewarding—all hallmarks of a good meditative experience. I use a Hario ceramic funnel, a Hario kettle, Hario filters, and a Bodum burr grinder. I get my beans from the lovely Chazzano Coffee in Ferndale, Michigan, as Frank (the owner) is one of the most conscientious coffee roasters I’ve ever met.
Making the coffee
I check the cleanliness of my kettle and wipe it down if it’s dirty or clean it out if needed. I admire the craftsmanship of the metal, the shape, and the design. I appreciate the artistry and skill that went into crafting the kettle. I think about the person who designed it. It’s a Japanese kettle, so I think of how awesome it is that I live in a world where I can use this implement that was created a half a world away. Next, I begin to fill it. I contemplate the impurities that have made their way into the water and the journey the water takes to get to my tap. I am careful to filter the water to make the coffee as clean and bright as possible. I enjoy the sound of water pouring into the empty metal pot. I love staring at the cool, still water in the shiny metal kettle.
I put the kettle on the stove and go to the grinder. I smell the beans, remembering where I bought them and from where they came. I think about the growers, the sunlight, the coffee cherries drying, and the marvel of transportation that allows me to have these so soon after being picked. The roaster I go to has taken great care to roast them to perfection; I’ve seen him fret over these beans, smelling them, watching them, listening to them crack as they turn dark brown in the heat.
I grind them and take deep breaths as the beans are turned into coarse powder. The smell makes me feel at peace.
I take the filter and fold it carefully. I love the texture of the filter as my finger runs along it, making a tight crease. I take the ceramic funnel and marvel at the skill that must have been involved with designing it. It has spiral channels built into it and it’s almost a work of art on its own.
I put the filter in the funnel and run some filtered water over it to wet the filter, while waiting for the kettle to come to a boil. I fill the filter with grounds, taking care to gently tap the grinder cup to get the grounds out.
When the water is ready, I start the pour. The pour-over method should take three minutes if done properly. It’s very slow, contemplative, and you have to be aware of what you’re doing the entire time. You start with a slow pour in the center of the grounds, and since I’m using extremely fresh beans, the bloom that appears due to release of carbon dioxide is beautiful, and the smell is intoxicating. I count carefully and when thirty seconds have gone by, I begin slowly to swirl the kettle. to wet the rest of the grounds.
The kettle is designed to pour very slowly and consistently (thus the swan-like neck). This allows me to swirl the kettle in a spiral fashion, careful not to touch the sides of the filter, while ensuring that all the grounds continue to get evenly distributed without the funnel filling up too quickly, causing the grounds to stick to the side. It takes a great deal of attention and patience to get it right—just like meditation.
The joy of the experience
In the end, I am left with a wonderful, truly remarkable cup of coffee; more than drinking it myself, I love giving it to a friend and seeing the look on their face as they inhale the aroma and take their first sip.
It’s one of the most peaceful parts of my day, and it helped me realize that peace and contemplation can be found in everyday experiences. It doesn’t always have to be on the zafu or in the meditation room.
This entry was posted in Meditation and tagged daily life, interconnectedness, Meditation by Brian. Bookmark the permalink.
Thursday, June 14, 2012
Yep, a good cup of coffee has always been controversial.
Coffee Jerks, Husbands Belittling Wives in 1950s & 1960s Coffee Ads
By EDW Lynch on June 13, 2012
“Coffee Jerks” is a short montage of husbands cruelly belittling their wive’s coffee making prowess in coffee commercials from the 1950s and ’60s. Filmmaker Shaun Clayton assembled the montage from commercials found in the Prelinger Archive.
Sunday, April 29, 2012
Coffee brings you closer to the Lord...
Well...closer to you church anyway.
Saturday, April 28, 2012
Hey, Let's get the diet coffee ?
When is coffee NOT a diet drink.
The fat lady says...
"I will have an iced coffee with 4 add shots 16 count 'em 16 pumps of white mocha (6 in a venti usually) 6 pumps of vanilla" and then she bitched that we don't have trenta dome lids because she wants whipped cream. So we put whip in it anyway with a flat lid. But she freaks out that I have to charge her for all of the modifiers when it's just a trenta coffee refill that would be $.55 and tells me shes trying to lose weight. I'm thinking "BITCH YOU ON THE WRONG TRAIN", but I had to deal with her respectfully."
...Well, maybe stick with a double espresso? Yah Think?
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