Bottled Up

Every so often, this Bay Area baby needs his Bottle.

I speak, of course, of Blue Bottle Coffee Company, the apotheosized Mission District java mecca—and subject of a September 2011 Fortune feature—that, much to my delight, recently reached the Right Coast.  A cleverly re-purposed Berry St. industrial space in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, has become their base of East Coast operations, housing a full-fledged roastery, baking facilities and a coffee bar earning instant respect from resident neighborhood hipsters (and they're a very discriminating crowd).  Word on the street has founder James Freeman frequenting the site on a bi-monthly if not more basis, ensuring the same San Francisco treat caffeine connoisseurs have come to expect from the Blue Bottle brand.

Even in a town so stubbornly stuck on its Starbucks, Blue Bottle's refreshingly unconventional dogma has earned it a fast following in Gotham, spreading by word of mouth and slipping into conversations lubricated by lead-ins like, "There's a place in Brooklyn with s'mores made from moonshine-laced marshmallows," or "Have you heard of the place with these crazy $20-grand Japanese coffee brewers?"  The company recently dropped pop-up perk points at such trafficked sites as High Line Park and Milk Studios, and will debut its second brick-and-mortar bar at Rockefeller Center this November. Not bad for a company humbly launched in 1999 as a bean counter in a Hayes Valley garage, and has barely been here a year and a half (the Berry Street roastcafé only opened in Spring 2010).

The entire roastery operation in Williamsburg, though partitioned,
is plainly visible to perking patrons in the building's cafe section,
offering an insider's look at what it takes to keep Blue Bottle brewing.

 My waits between fixes here are far too long—some more than others, but every one worth it. To get there takes being sardined onto any Bedford Ave.-bound cattle car L train, where fresh air is a premium, space is a luxury and comfort zones are too often nonexistent.  This was all too exacerbated during my first visit, when full service on the line was temporarily discontinued and Bedford became the transfer between two Manhattan and Canarsie-bound shuttle trains, creating a nightmarish scenario for anyone first boarding there on account of having to constantly compete with connecting passengers to plunge through the closing doors (which, despite pleas from increasingly irate MTA employees, few who missed three trains already seemed patient to stand clear of).  Subsequent trips have thankfully been more bearable.  Plus, even the slowest hop skip into the BK beats six hours in an airborne aluminum can back for a fix where Tony Bennett left his heart.

Lost in Nom: Blue Bottle's signature Stout
Coffee Cake w/Caraway Streusel

Today's trip involved finally trying Blue Bottle's much mentioned stout coffee cake, which after attending the Village Voice Brooklyn Pour the previous two weekends ago put the idea fresh in mind.  While the original secret to the revered recipe, developed by pastry chef Caitlin Williams Freeman (the founding Freeman's wife), was said to be Stout of Circumstance from Haight-Ashbury's Magnolia Gastropub, the Eastern equivalent substitutes Brooklyn Brewery's Black Chocolate Stout—true to their mantra of sourcing only local and sustainable ingredients.  Whatever the case, the resulting crisp but doughy delectable is, at least as far as I'm concerned, the chef-d'oeuvre of perk-paired pastries.  The caraway streusel crumble, grazing the pleasant of rolled oats and currant nuances,  complements the pecan flavors of moister inner contents that, with a swig of your latte, seems so sinful it should be banned in six southern states.

From its avant-garde business model to delivery of a consistently perfect product, Blue Bottle has proven itself the fresh, exciting force of positive energy in the coffee industry New York, New York needed.  To evoke some Sinatra, you've made it here—you'll make it anywhere.

Fact: You won't find a Kyoto brewer more stoke anywhere else in the five boroughs.
(Or in Connecticut, Long Island, Rhode Island, and definitely not...New Jersey).

Dark Roast

In our modern, high voltage times, there's few perks to being powerless.  The only thing worse than waking up to no power is not having the coffee to cope with it.  It's bad enough being deprived on a good day, let alone one where your house is 48º and you can't even shower because your well pump is as functional as the IRS.  Thanks to the cooperative incompetence of monopoly-holding utility companies with our collective proverbial balls in a vice grip and the "crisis management" politicians who afford them the disincentive for bringing their grid into the 21st century (or even the 20th), this is becoming an increasing problem in places like Upstate New York and Southern New England, where trees abound and the hilariously archaic Teddy Roosevelt-era technology of wire on ceramic insulator on rotting wooden poles are perpetual targets of deep-rooted assassins.  What also makes these areas so incredibly great is that, aside from being some of the highest taxed in the nation, residents receive virtually no basic services, are reliant entirely upon well water (needs power), septic (needs water), and also facing frigid temperatures (needs coffee, which needs water and, for most people, power).  So when the power goes in these places, you're pretty, well, boned.

Unless you live in Lancaster, Pennsylvania, you're probably not prepared for two, three, four or more mornings without juice, and if your per diem perk comes from a Keurig or Mr. Coffee, you might not have a backup plan in place for your brewed awakening.  So if the status quo of our crumbling infrastructure chooses to torture you in this way, here's some hints at solving what will certainly be the least of your problems.

Rule 1) Always keep at least a two day supply of pre-ground in a cool, dry place.
Sure it won't be fresh, and you never know when you'll need it—but unless you've got an old school manual grinder handy, it's this or instant.  What's crap coffee on a good day beats nothing on a bad day.  Stocking a stash of pre-ground could save your sanity.

Rule 2) Be ready to fire.
This is when pyromania proves productive.  With wattage-requiring heat sources out, you'll need fuels for open fire.  If you've got a gas stove, fireplace, or BBQ grill, then great, fantastic, you're set!  If you don't, well, crap.  Consider keeping a butane torch, or canisters of chafing fuel like Sterno, in your emergency kit.  Yankee Candles aren't exactly economical, nor put out nearly enough BTUs, but I suppose a bold last resort.

Rule 3) MacGyver.
It's only human to be under prepared, so plan appropriately expecting an inevitable cruise or two on the failboat.  In our recent 6-day episode, I failed to abide by Rule 1 by replacing the pre-ground stash I depleted during the 5-day one preceding it by barely two months.  I solved the problem by bringing the battery backup off my Mac into the kitchen, plugging in the grinder and, in a moment of longing for instant gratification, even tapped in the Keurig for a cuppa.  (The remainder of the charge then replenished my MacBook battery, which was in turn draining to recharge my iPhone).  Best investment ever.

So even if you're stuck opening your garage door by hand and you smell like the sweaty leg of an Occupy Wall Street protester that's been in a cast for two months, you don't have to drive somewhere for overinflated caffeination.  This concludes my potentially pointless post.

Espresso 101

Yes, corporate coffee clowns—it takes more than the press of a button.  At least if it's done right, anyway.  From the famed Ritual Roasters in San Francisco's Mission District (and Octavia; and Jerrold Ave; and the Oxbow Market in Napa; and a roving repurposed 1950s camper trailer affectionately called "Sputnik"):

(Personal note: Having worked with vintage steam locomotives from the earlier part of the last century [and latter part of the previous one—aka, the 19th], I have an above average appreciation not just for any system wherein the human mind is entrusted with exponentially more skill than with the modern, computerized counterpart, but the willingness to practice "old fashioned way" despite the advent of an easier—though not necessarily superior—alternative.  Artisanal baristas of the world, I salute you.)

Me Joulies

First off, props to any Ali G. fans who get this post title.  Booyakasha.

Google is glorious, even if they are plotting to take over the world.   In searching for stoke stocking stuffers of caffeinated relevance, I came across this Kickstarter page pimping a clever new product to prospective bankrollers.

Hypothetical situation.  You're sitting at your desk with freshly poured perk that's too hot to drink.  Far too wee in the work day to sear your tongue like tuna tataki on the grill at Benihana, you set it aside, knowing it will be safely sippable sometime in the next several minutes.  Sometime in this dubious cooling period you've mentally allotted your cuppa, your boss saunters his egregious presence into the cubicle colony, peers downward into your carpet-lined hell cell of corporate conformity and either demands that one task you dread doing without caffeinated armament, or shares stories from his Sandals all-inclusive family getaway on some Caribbean island named for a fake-sounding saint you couldn't care less about.  And when the distraction is done, it's too late!  The warmth window has shut.  The virgin pour cooled into a cold, bitter spinster.  Nevertheless, you'll down it in despair.

It's a status quo we've come to accept.  And seriously, what's more offensive than the thought of microwaving a latte?  There must be something to stop this torture.

...and that's why these guys invented Joulies:

Coffee Joulies from Coffee Joulies on Vimeo.

Perk and Poltergeists

Happy pagan-derived fall solstice holiday that's been so stripped of meaning by the marketing machine its original meaning is today even more watered down than diner decaf.  Thank the jolly Irish and their consuming copious quantities of distilled barley spirits for giving us Samhain (sow-win; Gaelic for "summer's end"), a time when they believed the dead would walk among us and guttersnipes would go door to door soliciting food, offering prayers for the dead in return—"souling," as it was called.  Somehow, masquerades got into this mix, and the reciprocity went wayside in favor of filling the plastic pumpkin with Reeses and running off on a sugar high.  Selfish darn kids.

But I digress.  Being a java junkie who digs ghost stories, the thought of a haunted coffee house seemed about as good as it gets, and wouldn't you know it, I found just that.  Despite the spooktastic strobe-lighted walk through it sets up in a storage closet, Bank Square Coffee House in Beacon, NY (about an hour north of Manhattan, and which I affectionately call Williamsburg North), doesn't need to do anything special to get in the spirit of the season: the place is apparently crawling with living impaired personalities.  Even having been to Beacon and the cafe (formerly the Muddy Cup) numerous times, I had no idea about any of it until stumbling upon this video—though the historical factoid bomb drop helps the place's unusual floor plan and ramp towards the back room, make so much more sense.  That, coupled with beans bought locally at Coffee Labs Roasters a dozen miles downriver in Sleepy Hollow country, makes a trip to Bank Square a Halloween season must.

Holiday Wish List: Part One

Maybe I'm selfish, or spoiled, or both—but with the cold front already blowing through town, it's a subject crossing my mind.  After all, what else is a young bohemian recessionista to do living a paycheck to paycheck existence off sometimes sporadic freelance jobs, aside from wear flannel shirts and anxiously await the release of the new Coldplay album?

Everyone's Christmachanukwanzakuh list should clearly include sort of caffeinated swag, if only a photo mug off Cafe Press you'll probably cry after inevitably breaking at some point in time.  But here's some better prospective presents to throw down on your dadstie.com universal wish list (a great gift registry site/iPhone app guaranteeing grandma sweater and repeat reduction by streamlining your wants from multiple retailers all in one place).

Bodum's Santos Stovetop Vacuum Coffee Maker
 ($89 at Williams-Sonoma)
It's affordable and sounds like Santa, what's not to love?  Siphon pots are in.  New Yorkers, the most shameless trend stalkers alive, think Blue Bottle (which basically brought them here) is the bombest thing in Brooklyn since IKEA opened in Red Hook, surely in some part because of these things.  Slightly less sophisticated than the butane burner Hario or Yama versions, it's affordable, works with any crappy apartment stove or hotplate and can be easily scored at your local mall.  Cool beans.

Kone 
($50 from Coava Coffee Roasters)
I've been truly trying to justify dropping half a Benjamin on a 2-1/2" diameter stainless steel cone.  I mean, just look at it—is it not the most sexy, minimalist piece of perk paraphernalia you've ever seen?  This metal pourover filter, custom commissioned by Portland's Coava Coffee Roasters, hybridizes a Chemex and french press by allowing aromatic oils and sediment to pass for a smooth but bodied brew.  Designed to fit the neck of most pour-over brewers, the Kone can permanently displace its paper predecessor, and despite the hefty price tag comes with the reward of being engineered and manufactured entirely in the US of A.  The unofficial Kone motto, etched on each one: "Designed in Portland, steel from Ohio, etched and welded in Connecticut."  (If the economy hit exceptionally hard this year, the Kone's basic functionality can be more or less roughed by your stocking itself.  J/K!)

PRODUKT
 [translation: Cheap-As-Dirt Scandinavian Frothing Wand]
($2.99 at Ikea)
I again must helplessly evoke my favorite fiberboard furniture-and-such superstore for income-starved yet stylistically demanding young adult consumers.  Save yourself or a loved one a few pieces of gelt and grab this Aerolatte alternative from the downstairs kitchen junk section, which forthcoming Cuppa Magazine co-editor Kristina Scoppa says "I absolutely love" and insists works as well as any.  It's a superb stocking stuffer—and even if it does break (hers hasn't, a few years in), it cost less than a latte.

Pound Bag of Handsome Espresso
($21.50 from Handsome Coffee Roasters)
I can't stop raving about this roast from breakaway Intelligentsia stalwarts Mike Phillips and Tyler Wells, which I discovered trying to score some Black Cat at a local perk point and being told it had been replaced with this.  Chicago's loss was clearly LA's gain.  To avoid going off ad nauseam on the subject, read my original review here.  Give me a pound, dog. 

Chemex
(Anywhere between $28-42 from pretty much everywhere)
A classic never dies.  The consummate pourover coffeemaker, developed by German chemist Dr. Peter J. Schlumbohm in 1941, seems little more than a laboratory flask with a filter cone stuffed down its spout, but it's cult classic design is virtually unchanged since seven decades ago—a bold statement simple is beautiful.  Today, it's offered in 3, 6, 8 and 10 cup varieties, and in a dishwasher-safe glass handle series.I personally call it the "sexpot," because as far as arousal by inanimate objects go, I think this one fills the cup.  It's even scored a spot in the permanent collections of MoMA and the Smithsonian, sharing space with the work of Henry Dreyfuss, Jonathan Ive and other legendary industrial design doyens.  Treat it well and this wooden-handled, leather-strapped goodness is also a guaranteed sound investment (I recently saw a gritty circa 1960s 6-cupper for $68—nearly twice the price of a new one!)

Stay tuned for Part 2—sometime between now and Black Friday.

The Hamptons: A Caffeinated Critique

The trees are turning, apple orchards crowding and hay-lined fields of orange oblongs have sprouted from every church lawn and vacant lot in sight. Despite being 80 degrees and the surfcasters still out on the beach below Montauk Lighthouse, it's unfortunately quite official: the Hamptons summer season has ended.  It's a fact I'm as reluctant to accept as the United States Government does recession or lingering double digit unemployment (which you can thank, in part, for this blog).  Nevertheless, now that I have, I embrace the season of cider donuts and the annual dusting off ritual of my It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown DVD.

Now with the busyness of boating and beach vegation subsided and yours truly now slowly regaining his concept of time, I figured, what better time to reflect and tease myself with what I'll be waiting another 7 months for by wordsmithing a summer caffeinated critique East End's premier perk points?

My family has had a home amidst this summer playground for four generations, and despite its fame for world-class restaurants, $20m Sagaponack sandcastles and Billy Joel sightings, this celebrated vacatia was until recently a relatively rough climate for java junkies, with only corporate caffeine or diner-grade dishwater to be had.  My summers became characterized by being rudely shoved into in line at the Southampton Golden Pear by Fabio-esque Eurotrash in man capris trying to pull off the cardigan-as-a-scarf look on a 90-degree July day or the broletariat en route to Neptune's—and you can bet your macchiato none of them ever said "excuse me."  Just way too many v-necks and blowouts way too early in the morning for a mediocre cuppa.

But the New York City coffee revolution rubbed off on its summer satellite location.  In the 1990s, Hampton Coffee Company and Java Nation established the South Fork's first real roasteries.  FourBucks and Panera Bread augmented diners and Dunkin' Donuts, and non-coffee centric establishments like The Golden Pear, Southampton Village Cheese Shop and Westhampton's Beach Bakery bought espresso machines.  So much steam did the gourmet caffeinated cause gain that, in 2008, the unthinkable happened: the Southampton Starbucks closed.  Two years later came Coffee Tauk and city stalwart Jack's Stir Brew.  Who knows what's next?

So don't be that shmuck standing in line amongst the tourist masses grabbing a green cup in a converted Bridgehampton bank vault.  Here's the best options to buy local and taste the best bean-soaked water the greater Hamptons has to offer (and the rest probably aren't worth mentioning).


We've Got Jack
Jack's Stir Brew (Amagansett)

And we couldn't be prouder.  This West Village institution, New York City's first fair-trade perk purveyor, established its easternmost location in Amagansett in the Spring of 2010 and completed the hipster fisherman-themed cafe in something like 72 hours from start to finish—almost certainly under the influence of certain bean-derived stimulants.  Even President Obama is said to have stopped in for a cuppa from Jack Mazzola's patented stir brewer.  Hardly just a 212 trend anymore, the third location makes its home in an eclectically decorated cottage on the south side of Montauk Highway brimming with maritime memorabilia, from dock crate tables to fish nets strung from the ceiling.  How about a Happy Jack (triple ristretto latte with fresh honey) over an organic vegan kosher scone?  The cafe is so chock full of piquant vegan and fair trade specialty foods it nearly doubles as an organic market, some so figurately crunchy they could make common granola seem as offensive as veal.  While I'll avoid ranking the remainder of my perk picks, I'll unabashedly name Jack's of Amagansett my favorite spot to score perk anywhere on the East End—and count it among my all-time favorite ever.  Year round.  $5 credit card minimum.

Beans to an End
Coffee Tauk (Montauk)

Montauk gained this minimalist-chic cosmopolitan coffee spot in Summer 2010, and it's earned a fast and loyal following from grommets to grandpas.  Set in a brand new digs on a quiet block between the beach and village,  it made gnarly first impressions with its punny name, drawn from 1990s Mike Myers SNL character Linda), flashy flat screen monitor menus and consistently poured latte rosettas.  But despite the diggable ambiance, the espresso possessed an overwhelmingly lemony bitterness of robusta that, no matter how hard I tried to like it, just wasn't working for me.  Perhaps it was growing pains, as this summer found baristas pulling smooth shots of Gimme! as good as any.  The cafe itself, a bright, well-lighted space with molded metal seats, is a slight throwback to mid-90s Silicon Valley cybercafe.  (Extra points for the hands-free foam soap dispenser in the facility).  Coffee Tauk currently serves exclusively Gimme! coffee, including their proprietary Fisherman's Blend, complimented by pastries from Mary's Marvelous in Amagansett and chilled selections from Il Laboratorio from Gelato.  My only complaint: the pasty case was empty by every afternoon visit I've made all summer.  Closed Oct-April.  Credit cards accepted.

Bene Here
Aldo's (Greenport)

Most local java joints are business ventures.  Others you get the sense aren't so much businesses, rather one person with a passion.  Meet the encyclopedic example.  Sicilian-born barista and biscottier Aldo Maiorana is somewhat of a celebrity in Greenport, sprinkling the air with sweet otherworldly aromas to lure locals and tourists alike into his labor of love Front Street microroastery instead of the Starbucks across the street.  From his hand-crafted coffees to doughy, fresh-from-the-oven scones, everything Aldo touches turns to perfection.  His artisanal roasts represent an innate mastery only understandable when watching him in action, as patrons frequently can.  Like a piano tuner working by ear, he seems to use sensory guidance, not methodology, to attain the desired results.  That apparent natural gift and unfaltering personal standards bring nothing but bold, stately flavors from every cup: eloquently pronounced, not overpowering and not in the least bit watercolor.  A step into his storefront, which sits seemingly at a slant, is instantaneous teleportation to a 1930s Neopolitan espresso bar.  There's no signs advertising free WiFi, and no smooth jazz.  A copper-domed Rancilio espresso maker, a relic of perk past where "pulling shots" was done literally—by yanking a handle—flanks the entrance, though doesn't get the per diem use.  It's fun to look at while you're waiting in lengthy lines of those whose noses also caught the baking beans or doughy, fresh-from-the-oven scones and rode it straight to the source.  After all, Aldo is an artist, and any impatient customers who can't appreciate that are welcome to cross the street. Year round.  Cash Only.

Estate Grown (For Those Who Own Them)
Hampton Coffee Co. (Water Mill, Westhampton Beach)

Opened in 1994, Hampton Coffee Company in Water Mill is a veritable cornucopia for breakfast bon vivants.  Located along Montauk Highway at Deerfield Rd, this converted auto garage compound is home to the company's roasting facilities, a full-service breakfast cafe, third party guest kiosk (most recently the Soft Serve Fruit Company) and most importantly, a to go-style espresso bar with a full line of hot and cold caffeinated beverages.  You're likely to spot the Southampton Range Rovers convoy lining up on Saturday morning, but not to fear: even the worst parking situations still beat the line at Golden Pear.  Once you're in, you'll be greeted by the greatness of their rich, bodied roasts, a sizable selection of Monin flavor syrups and a FourBucks-style menu boards.  Owners Jason and Theresa Belkin opened a second location in Westhampton Beach in 2002, and maintain a mobile unit dispatched to cater the caffeination needs ot the Hampton Classic and other area events. Most recently, a Hampton Coffee-branded espresso bar also opened inside Sag Harbor's hip LT Burger. Year round.  Credit cards accepted.

Bohemian Rhapsody
Java Nation (Sag Harbor)

Java Nation is a hidden gem, that welcome bastion of "Un-Hampton" your average tourist might not find—nor would locals want them to.  A few steps in from Main Street, the side alley microroastery, decorated only by a Diedrich drum roaster and painted burlap coffee sacks, is grittier than the glitzy Golden Pear down the block, but in every way more fit for the storied whaling town historically home to salty sea captains and John Steinbeck.  The concentration here is the coffee with little else to distract, which is great considering it's what you came for.  My average latte here has been more of a wet cappuccino—you won't wind rosettas poured in your crema—but the product, while simple in presentation, is unfaltering fresh.  It's more of a grab-and-go joint you probably won't want to linger in, but there's a few nice tables on the outside patio, and you can always imbibe over a walk down Long Wharf to gawk Jimmy Buffett's 180'+ "Continental Drifter" and the rest of the Cayman Navy.  Year round.

Half Caff
These spots aren't all about joe and might not fancily free pour with latte art, but they're all great, local, non-corporate establishments for a brewed awakening—and each a draw in their own right:

Tate's Bake Shop — Southampton (serves Aldo's)
The Golden Pear — Southampton/Bridghampton/East Hampton/Sag Harbor
Blue Duck Bakery Café — Southampton (serves Hampton Coffee Co.) 
Water Mill Cupcake Co.  — Water Mill 
Mary's Marvelous — Amagansett
The Village Gourmet Cheese Shop — Southampton
Beach Bakery Café — Westhampton Beach

For a taste of the Hampton's most unusual perk point, stop in Sag Harbor's Sylvester & Co., a postmodern 21st century general store complete with its own self serve coffee bar.  No espresso, but what did you expect?

Note: Unless noted otherwise, remember most of these fine perk purveyors do their thing open year round.  So if you're out east during the off season, be sure to stop in and show them some love—they'll be needing it.

UPDATE: Re-run!  http://westhampton-hamptonbays.patch.com/blog_posts/the-hamptons-a-caffeinated-critique