Coffee Snobs

For some years now, I've had a reputation as a "coffee snob". Prior to the advent of Starbucks and Caribou, this phrase would have made very little sense to most people, but now it's rather common. It refers to a person who will not drink "ordinary" coffee like Folger's, Maxwell House, or Hills Brothers, but rather prefers to shell out the $1.50 or more for a cup of joe at a dedicated provider. But there's a reason we coffee snobs do that.

On an icy cold Chicago morning in 1981, I picked up the morning paper to find a wonderful article about coffee. The central concern addressed in the article was why your own coffee never tastes as good as that in a restaurant (well, most restaurants, anyway). The author of this article summed it up by saying that most people simply do not use enough coffee when preparing their morning brew. The article also suggested that for maximum flavor, it was best to buy whole bean coffee and grind it just before brewing. We bought a grinder, began adding more coffee to our mix and found that, indeed, following these steps resulted in a much more robust, satisfying cup of coffee.

We went along at that pace for several years, trying first one coffee, then another -- A&P's Eight O' Clock blends and Chock Full O' Nuts seemed to be our favorites. But then I began to try darker roasts of coffee, and that's when the fun really started.

We lived in Charlotte for two years back in the early 1990's, and for one of our Christmas parties, I mail ordered (there were no shops in the city yet) Starbucks coffee and served it at the party. I lost count, but I know that I made at least eight full pots of both caffeinated and decaffeinated, all of which was consumed that evening. People kept asking, "What kind of coffee IS this?" Many of them had never heard of Starbucks but simply loved the bold taste of this coffee. And the rest is history, as far as Starbucks is concerned.

Coffee can be roasted for varying lengths of time, and what most people do not know is that the longer it is roasted (i.e. the darker the beans appear), the less caffeine and acid it contains. As coffee is roasted, it loses its moisture -- this is why you often see oil on the surface of dark roasted beans. In addition, the roasting process causes caffeine to break down chemically. That cup of espresso that we all find so stimulating actually contains less caffeine ounce for ounce that a light roast cup of regular coffee. It's the dark roast taste (and its being ground to a powder before brewing) which gives espresso its kick.

Almost every morning, my friend Rachelle and I head over to the cafeteria in our adjacent office building to get a cup of Starbucks. On rainy mornings, one of us will generally stop to pick up two cups at the Starbucks drive-thru. A few weeks ago, as a joke, our friend Mike posted a sign at Rachelle's desk which read "Coffee Snob", complete with a cartoon picture of a (six-fingered) woman drinking a cup of coffee. At my desk, he posted a sign saying "Quasi-Coffee Snob...Will Drink Office Swill", with a picture of a rather bohemian looking guy. I liked this, and I took it as a testimony to the fact that I've done my homework.

After all, where do you think I got the name "Whole Bean" for this website?

Solid State School Night

Last Thursday night, I headed to Karaoke Night at the Wild Wing Cafe in suburban Alpharetta with a couple of my P-Council friends. I must admit that I had never to my recollection been to karaoke in a public setting, so I was somewhat intrigued. When the local band Rock Mafia opened the first set by launching into Metallica's "Enter Sandman", one of my favorites, I found myself drawn (with the assistance of an enthusiastic friend who literally pulled me) to the stage to watch them close up and to feel the kick of the bass drum and the insistent drive of the amplifiers. It was not the first time I'd done this.

Back in the 1970's, I played guitar with a mess of garage bands and one regular crew in Memphis. In those days, amplifiers such as my big old Kustom, covered in padded black Naugahyde, had gone "solid state", which meant that there were no vacuum tubes to blow out and ruin a performance. Back then, I got a taste of how it felt to get up in front of a crowd when you knew exactly what you were playing, when the amps were cranking and there were no shorts in the cabling, just driving it and feeling the response from the audience. It's an extreme rush, to say the least. But I digress.

Thursday's karaoke experience was, shall we say, lively. It's been a while since I've been inside a place quite that crowded. Wild Wing wasn't exactly Bob's Country Bunker in The Blues Brothers, but it wasn't that far removed, either. There was no chicken wire in front of the band, so I suppose you could say that it was reasonably safe overall. We only had one untoward experience, and the perpetrator eventually apologized for his rather bizarre comments to us, so that was all good in the end. I thought for a moment that things might get out of control and that I would perhaps witness a barfight, but fortunately, that did not come to pass.

We were treated to performances ranging from the sublime to the outright odious. A young lady did a very passable interpretation of Guns 'n Roses' "Sweet Child O' Mine", and then shortly thereafter some guy shouted "Let's do metal!" and launched into what I think was a Fuel song. An Asian kid accentuated his vocal performance with some bizarre gyrations, all the while his pants chains swinging in time to the music. Someone sang Aerosmith's "Dream On", which I probably have not heard in twenty years. Through all of this, Rock Mafia did not miss a beat; in fact, I was quite impressed when the band not only knew when to play, but when not to play, the mark of truly good performers.

If you can stand a place like this, you really do see some terrific musicians. Today's guitar players are privy to tons of gadgets which we didn't have in the old days. Every once in a while, I head down to Guitar Center to check out all the technology and while there, I see kids who can play the hair off a dog -- it is truly amazing. So it's reassuring to see a band like Rock Mafia, young guys giving it their all and performing truly decent covers of music all the way back to the 70's, playing it with the same passion that we did. Nicely done, Rock Mafia.

Oh, and by the way, I never have worn chains on my pants.

In Search of the Green Fairy

What a week! By the end, I was almost considering absinthe. Now, you may say, isn't that a bit edgy? Perhaps, but then again, almost everything makes it to Whole Bean eventually.

Absinthe, nicknamed "the green fairy", is an anise-flavored alcoholic beverage originally distilled from the wormwood plant. Developed in Switzerland as a medicinal elixir, the drink gained popularity in the late 1800's during a period when problems in French wine production forced imbibers to look elsewhere. Its reputation as a "vivifying" potion which could boost the mind and spirit resulted in absinthe becoming a fashionable afternoon drink in Paris, New York, and New Orleans. Van Gogh and Toulouse-Lautrec were said to be particularly fond of it.

But by the early 1900's, absinthe had become quite controversial. Sales were banned in the United States beginning in 1912, and the restrictions were not lifted until 2007. A quote from a Wikipedia article sums up the reasoning behind the ban:

Due in part to its associations with bohemian culture, absinthe was opposed by social conservatives and prohibition supporters. It was portrayed as a dangerously addictive, psychoactive drug, and the chemical thujone, present in small quantities in wormwood, was blamed for these alleged effects.

Further qualitative analysis in recent years has indicated that absinthe is no more dangerous than ordinary alcohol, and most likely, its psychoactive properties have been overstated. The original recipe for absinthe has been modified, using different methods, by a number of distillers worldwide; in fact, these new variations can now be sold legally in many countries. However, due to its inherent toxicity in large doses, thujone content is now strictly limited in commercially-produced absinthe.

The whole thing is somewhat curious. Ever since I visited "The Old Absinthe House" in New Orleans one evening in 1987 for a night of blues, I have wondered exactly what happened to this strange brew. Interesting stuff, it is.

Valentine's Day Gone Wrong

As is the case with many things, it all started so innocently.

A friend of mine volunteers as a chef's assistant at Whole Foods and helps to teach cooking classes. She is one of the store's top volunteers, working several sessions per month, sacrificing her personal time for the advancement of culinary science. One such class was held last night, in the waning hours of Valentine's Day. This class was attended by 13 couples who thought they might treat themselves to something a little different this year.

The intentions were good all the way around. The problem was that the chef conducting the class, although pleasant when interacting with the class participants, was quite rude to the staff of four volunteers assisting her. Throughout the evening, when asked this question or that, the chef would snap back a curt reply, often bordering on downright hostility. The class had started at 6:00, so by 10:30, when everything finally wrapped up for the evening, the prevailing atmosphere was one of relief that this dreadful thing had finally come to an end.

At 10:30, there were four volunteers left, and my friend, who incidentally is not much of a drinker, realized that consuming the leftover champagne by the glass was a much too slow road to true inebriation, and she opted instead to drink it straight from the bottle.

I think that next year, my friend will probably opt to make something special for Valentine's dinner, something a bit more predictable -- reservations, perhaps.

Instant Taj Mahal

I am still amazed that I can be sitting here in Atlanta and receive an instant cell phone MMS picture of the Taj Mahal. Yet, this happened a couple of days ago when my friend Tim, visiting in India for "the" wedding (see below), sent me this gorgeous photo. Thanks, Tim!