On my most recent visit to New York City, one the most definitive realizations I came to about high quality espresso bars is that at any given time, a coffee shop is only as good as the barista on duty.
What I noticed as I visited various shops around the city was that I wasn't always having great espresso experiences. The consistency just wasn't there. Often I found that I could taste that the coffee was exceptional, the espresso roast was top-notch, but the barista did not always produce a prefect beverage.
For the record, my drink is a macchiato, and I've grown to expect and desire certain things in a good macchiato. The flavor profile comes first, and this was almost always to be expected in the NYC shops, but the most common detractor—and the secret to a good macchiato (or cappuccino, or cortado, or latte) I believe—is the mouth-feel. This is delivered from the preparation of the milk, and the hand of the barista.
Texture is so important in good espresso; it the difference between good and great. The qualities I look for are thickness, and smoothness. I can't tell you how many thin, watery macchiatos I've gotten. The crema should persist all the way to the last sip. And when the froth separates from the coffee, it's all over.
Surprisingly, I had only one heavenly macchiato experience that accomplished all this: Joe: Art of Coffee near Union Square. And to be fair, almost all the coffee I had was excellent, I just had rather high expectations.
I look foward to bringing my own barista hands to the city to see what brews.
August 12, 2007
July 29, 2007
Triple Ristretto and Menu Size
The Madison espresso scene has been good to me, and I've been lucky to have learned and shared so much with fellow barristas in the downtown area, but I must be moving on. In September I will be relocating to New York City, home of the recent espresso bar boom, and land of the triple ristretto.
I've had some questions about that last thing, and have even been asked to make a triple ristretto from my humble two-group head espresso bar at Soleil, but the fact remains that a triple ristretto is a product of the correct tools, which most coffeeshops, especially those in the Midwest, simply do not have.
The idea behind a triple ristretto is simple: Higher dosing of coffee (triple dose), pulling ristretto, producing a shot about the size of a double. It is not a double shot enhanced with another single shot (from a split double) to make a triple. This is the only way to make a triple with a standard double basket portafilter, but, as I've said before, I don't believe in triple shots from a double machine: Double is standard.
The way to get a triple shot then is to switch from a double basket to a triple basket. The filter basket is replaced with one that holds enough espresso grounds to pull three ounces of espresso, then the shot is pulled ristretto. Bingo: a delicious ristretto shot without losing any of the volume.
The idea of upping the dosage for an espresso has been going on in specific circles for the past few years, and for a number of espresso bars in New York City this is the default.
In my mind, it should be up to the coffeeshop, or at least the barista, to produce the most delicious beverage possible. Small menus, fewer customer choices have long been accepted in fine dining restaurants, where the chef or waitstaff is expected to cook the dish the best way possible (save for certain exceptions, of course), and pair flavors, sauces, wines. The trend for a lot of coffeeshops, however, has been to beef up the menu with a huge variety of coffee beverages with clever names, usually based around sweeteners and syrups. Rather than featuring the flavor of actual coffee (!), and perfecting the techniques to produce the best coffee flavor in espresso, they are relying on endless ways to flatten coffee flavor with sugar and milk.
What I found at most of these NYC espresso bars is the ideal: small menus, featuring espresso, macchiato, and (the traditional) cappuccino. The idea is to the coffee stand for itself. Most places don't even do the old single/double thing, which to me is a godsend. Splitting shots is like using skim milk, or ordering a half-caf... don't do it!
I've had some questions about that last thing, and have even been asked to make a triple ristretto from my humble two-group head espresso bar at Soleil, but the fact remains that a triple ristretto is a product of the correct tools, which most coffeeshops, especially those in the Midwest, simply do not have.
The idea behind a triple ristretto is simple: Higher dosing of coffee (triple dose), pulling ristretto, producing a shot about the size of a double. It is not a double shot enhanced with another single shot (from a split double) to make a triple. This is the only way to make a triple with a standard double basket portafilter, but, as I've said before, I don't believe in triple shots from a double machine: Double is standard.
The way to get a triple shot then is to switch from a double basket to a triple basket. The filter basket is replaced with one that holds enough espresso grounds to pull three ounces of espresso, then the shot is pulled ristretto. Bingo: a delicious ristretto shot without losing any of the volume.
The idea of upping the dosage for an espresso has been going on in specific circles for the past few years, and for a number of espresso bars in New York City this is the default.
In my mind, it should be up to the coffeeshop, or at least the barista, to produce the most delicious beverage possible. Small menus, fewer customer choices have long been accepted in fine dining restaurants, where the chef or waitstaff is expected to cook the dish the best way possible (save for certain exceptions, of course), and pair flavors, sauces, wines. The trend for a lot of coffeeshops, however, has been to beef up the menu with a huge variety of coffee beverages with clever names, usually based around sweeteners and syrups. Rather than featuring the flavor of actual coffee (!), and perfecting the techniques to produce the best coffee flavor in espresso, they are relying on endless ways to flatten coffee flavor with sugar and milk.
What I found at most of these NYC espresso bars is the ideal: small menus, featuring espresso, macchiato, and (the traditional) cappuccino. The idea is to the coffee stand for itself. Most places don't even do the old single/double thing, which to me is a godsend. Splitting shots is like using skim milk, or ordering a half-caf... don't do it!
March 12, 2007
Don't Call It A...
A woman has been coming into the Cafe recently ordering espresso, with "a little steamed half and half." When I first heard the order, I was like, "Oh, a macchiato breve!" The woman was uninterested in my name determination, shrugging it off and saying, "Well, whatever you call it..."
I don't know if she just didn't want a lot of attention created, or just wanted to save the few cents with the espresso price, but I think the big issue at play here is the misconception of what I consider the greatest expression of a coffee bean: The Macchiato.
Maybe this woman has ordered a macchiato, or seen someone order one, only to have the barista produce a curious bitter-espresso-and-mound-of-dry-foam concoction that is mostly undrinkable. If this is the case, I can see why someone would not want to order one, and would ask for espresso with milk (or half and half). Actually, if I am at a cafe I know to have amateur baristas without the knowledge or skill of proper frothing techniques, I order an espresso rather than a macchiato, and usually add cold milk from the condiment table.
The most important thing I will tell someone when discussing milk frothing and cappuccinos or macchiatos is to not think about milk and foam as separate entities. Sure, they are not the same thing, but they should not be separate. The texture of your milk should be as homogenous as possible, with the "foam," which is aerated milk, worked into the entire mass. The milk should then be poured, with the ratio of foam-to-milk (which constitutes the "dryness") determining how thick the foam pours in the milk. Thus, if your "foam" can't be poured, don't add it to the espresso with a spoon! You are at this point ruining the texture, and only aiding the separation of milk and foam--which of course happens naturally in time.
How do you keep the milk and foam from separating? By using the two most important and under-utilized steps in the barista book: compacting and swirling. After frothing, I like to give the milk a chance to settle and breathe a bit, so often I will froth first and pull the shot second (NOTE: For a latte I do the opposite). Then I stomp the pitcher down on the counter to compact the milk, which also helps to break the larger bubbles. I alternate this with vigorous swirls, by keeping one side of the pitcher to the counter and circling tightly until I see the milk moving as a homogenous liquid. When the milk is ready to pour, it should have a glossy sheen on top, and resemble wet paint. If the milk wasn't stretched properly, no amount of compacting and swirling will save it, but it may be able to recover some bad takes.
A friend of mine who used to work as a barista in town said he thought the macchiato was a purpose-less drink. That it was just espresso with a froufy garnish. This is the wrong way to think about a macchiato. If you are using the milk simply as a garnish and not to enhance the flavor and texture of the espresso, of course it is purpose-less. But if you pour your thick, smooth foam into the espresso, you can soften sharp tones in the coffee, and the caramelized milk sugars from the frothing process will help bring out the natural sweetness in the coffee.
The espresso we serve at Cafe Soleil is very darkly roasted with a deep robust flavor, and I find it a tad harsh straight-up. That's why I always drink it macchiato, and recommend it that way to other espresso drinkers. However, with a lighter bodied roast, sometimes the full coffee flavor that espresso affords can get lost in a wet pour of a macchiato, which is why I ordered my espresso proper (though ristretto) at Ancora Coffee this morning. Oh, and the woman at my shop: She asked for a "macchiato with half and half" the last time she was in.
I don't know if she just didn't want a lot of attention created, or just wanted to save the few cents with the espresso price, but I think the big issue at play here is the misconception of what I consider the greatest expression of a coffee bean: The Macchiato.
Maybe this woman has ordered a macchiato, or seen someone order one, only to have the barista produce a curious bitter-espresso-and-mound-of-dry-foam concoction that is mostly undrinkable. If this is the case, I can see why someone would not want to order one, and would ask for espresso with milk (or half and half). Actually, if I am at a cafe I know to have amateur baristas without the knowledge or skill of proper frothing techniques, I order an espresso rather than a macchiato, and usually add cold milk from the condiment table.
The most important thing I will tell someone when discussing milk frothing and cappuccinos or macchiatos is to not think about milk and foam as separate entities. Sure, they are not the same thing, but they should not be separate. The texture of your milk should be as homogenous as possible, with the "foam," which is aerated milk, worked into the entire mass. The milk should then be poured, with the ratio of foam-to-milk (which constitutes the "dryness") determining how thick the foam pours in the milk. Thus, if your "foam" can't be poured, don't add it to the espresso with a spoon! You are at this point ruining the texture, and only aiding the separation of milk and foam--which of course happens naturally in time.
How do you keep the milk and foam from separating? By using the two most important and under-utilized steps in the barista book: compacting and swirling. After frothing, I like to give the milk a chance to settle and breathe a bit, so often I will froth first and pull the shot second (NOTE: For a latte I do the opposite). Then I stomp the pitcher down on the counter to compact the milk, which also helps to break the larger bubbles. I alternate this with vigorous swirls, by keeping one side of the pitcher to the counter and circling tightly until I see the milk moving as a homogenous liquid. When the milk is ready to pour, it should have a glossy sheen on top, and resemble wet paint. If the milk wasn't stretched properly, no amount of compacting and swirling will save it, but it may be able to recover some bad takes.
A friend of mine who used to work as a barista in town said he thought the macchiato was a purpose-less drink. That it was just espresso with a froufy garnish. This is the wrong way to think about a macchiato. If you are using the milk simply as a garnish and not to enhance the flavor and texture of the espresso, of course it is purpose-less. But if you pour your thick, smooth foam into the espresso, you can soften sharp tones in the coffee, and the caramelized milk sugars from the frothing process will help bring out the natural sweetness in the coffee.
The espresso we serve at Cafe Soleil is very darkly roasted with a deep robust flavor, and I find it a tad harsh straight-up. That's why I always drink it macchiato, and recommend it that way to other espresso drinkers. However, with a lighter bodied roast, sometimes the full coffee flavor that espresso affords can get lost in a wet pour of a macchiato, which is why I ordered my espresso proper (though ristretto) at Ancora Coffee this morning. Oh, and the woman at my shop: She asked for a "macchiato with half and half" the last time she was in.
February 26, 2007
Reflections on Coffee Fest Chicago
This past weekend I went to Chicago for the big Coffee Fest Trade Show. I joined Ancora Coffee Roasters, representing Cafe Soleil and the Madison barista community at large. This was my first large-scale event, and it was a lot of fun, but not exactly as I thought it would be.
I admit, my dreams of what Coffee Fest would be mostly consisted of a row of espresso machines all pulling shots for me, while I went down the line sipping each roaster's ware. While that's not quite what happened, there were a lot of espresso shots to taste, as well as a lot of bakery items. Of course, the quality ranged from great to questionable, but with plenty to choose from, it wasn't a problem. I found some great shots of espresso, including Intelligentsia and a surprisingly complex shot from Josuma Coffee Company. I realized more than ever how much I like a light-roasted espresso bean. It's misconception that a light roast is less "strong" or full-bodied. I compare it to cooking a steak, how you can taste the flavor of the beef better rare, rather than a well-done job (read: dark roast) in which you mostly taste the char. Freshness and body are so important, as well as, of course, a talented, attentive barista.
The one thing I didn't realize coming into the event was how commercial it was, mostly in the way it was geared towards retailers. I hoped it would be more of a community building skill-share set-up, but I guess those expectations were coming from my perspective as a barista, and not as a cafe owner or retail entrepreneur.
There were a number of workshops and classes, some with fees, others offered free. Being on my own budget, I planned to attend a couple free classes. Unfortunately the first one coinsided with Saturday's barista latte art competition (in which two Ancora baristas were competing), and the second was cancelled. So I missed the workshops entirely. Not all was lost, as just being in an environment with so many coffee enthusists, especially my hometown Ancora crew, was very enlightening company.
I enjoyed checking out some of the espresso equipment on show. I'm not much of a machine-fetishist, but the personal tools of the barista interest me a lot. It's great to see and handle so many different tampers and steaming pitchers. I think I was convinced to get a new set of pitchers (I need the 12 oz.; don't care for the rounded bottom ones supposed to aid rolling), and eventually a new, personal, customized tamper.
The most fun I had at the conference was probably the aforementioned latte art competition. It was great to see barista treated like rockstars. It's a small community, spread out across the country, so it's nice to have a group of people so intimately involved with the art of espresso extraction gathered in one place. Wisco was well represented, too, with a lot of folks from Milwaukee's great Alterra Coffee Roasters.
Our Madison competitors didn't make it to the second round, unfortunately, but some Milwaukee baristas poured some impressive artwork. [Pictured to the right is Ancora star barista Josh Makoutz with one of his more beautiful pours at his home court advantage.]
One thing I wasn't aware of going into the conference was that there are actually two barista competitions. The first is the latte art competition, which is the glitz and glamour—some might say superficial—side of things. The more serious, but arguably less exciting version is the Barista Competition proper. In this competition, a barista is judged on more professional merits, including the taste of the coffee. Each contestant prepares three espressos, three cappuccinos, and three "signature" drinks, each for the three judges. Besides putting out the drinks, the barista is expected to speak about what they are doing the whole time, making the event seem a little like a speech class as well. While maybe a more important competition, it is decidedly less fun to watch.
I think I might start a Casualty of the Macchiato competition here in Madison, in which flashy and professional merits have equal weight, and the required drink is the under-respresented macchiato.
I admit, my dreams of what Coffee Fest would be mostly consisted of a row of espresso machines all pulling shots for me, while I went down the line sipping each roaster's ware. While that's not quite what happened, there were a lot of espresso shots to taste, as well as a lot of bakery items. Of course, the quality ranged from great to questionable, but with plenty to choose from, it wasn't a problem. I found some great shots of espresso, including Intelligentsia and a surprisingly complex shot from Josuma Coffee Company. I realized more than ever how much I like a light-roasted espresso bean. It's misconception that a light roast is less "strong" or full-bodied. I compare it to cooking a steak, how you can taste the flavor of the beef better rare, rather than a well-done job (read: dark roast) in which you mostly taste the char. Freshness and body are so important, as well as, of course, a talented, attentive barista.
The one thing I didn't realize coming into the event was how commercial it was, mostly in the way it was geared towards retailers. I hoped it would be more of a community building skill-share set-up, but I guess those expectations were coming from my perspective as a barista, and not as a cafe owner or retail entrepreneur.
There were a number of workshops and classes, some with fees, others offered free. Being on my own budget, I planned to attend a couple free classes. Unfortunately the first one coinsided with Saturday's barista latte art competition (in which two Ancora baristas were competing), and the second was cancelled. So I missed the workshops entirely. Not all was lost, as just being in an environment with so many coffee enthusists, especially my hometown Ancora crew, was very enlightening company.
I enjoyed checking out some of the espresso equipment on show. I'm not much of a machine-fetishist, but the personal tools of the barista interest me a lot. It's great to see and handle so many different tampers and steaming pitchers. I think I was convinced to get a new set of pitchers (I need the 12 oz.; don't care for the rounded bottom ones supposed to aid rolling), and eventually a new, personal, customized tamper.
The most fun I had at the conference was probably the aforementioned latte art competition. It was great to see barista treated like rockstars. It's a small community, spread out across the country, so it's nice to have a group of people so intimately involved with the art of espresso extraction gathered in one place. Wisco was well represented, too, with a lot of folks from Milwaukee's great Alterra Coffee Roasters.
Our Madison competitors didn't make it to the second round, unfortunately, but some Milwaukee baristas poured some impressive artwork. [Pictured to the right is Ancora star barista Josh Makoutz with one of his more beautiful pours at his home court advantage.]One thing I wasn't aware of going into the conference was that there are actually two barista competitions. The first is the latte art competition, which is the glitz and glamour—some might say superficial—side of things. The more serious, but arguably less exciting version is the Barista Competition proper. In this competition, a barista is judged on more professional merits, including the taste of the coffee. Each contestant prepares three espressos, three cappuccinos, and three "signature" drinks, each for the three judges. Besides putting out the drinks, the barista is expected to speak about what they are doing the whole time, making the event seem a little like a speech class as well. While maybe a more important competition, it is decidedly less fun to watch.
I think I might start a Casualty of the Macchiato competition here in Madison, in which flashy and professional merits have equal weight, and the required drink is the under-respresented macchiato.
January 10, 2007
Notes toward a more perfect macchiato, pt. 1
If there's one I've learned about espresso while researching and working at a cafe, it's that there are not absolutes. Any kind of training I've received is only jumping off point.
For instance, one thing I was trained to do was to knock around the portafilter between tamps. This was to get any excess grounds off the edges, and allow for a smoother finish on the following tamps. But after reading this article, I realized that perhaps the knocking step could be elimated, the theory being that it will allow for a fuller extraction. Since knocking around the portafilter will break the seal of espresso along the edges of the filter basket, it gives the water that passes through a path of lesser resistance around the edges. Thus, less water in the ground, less coffee extraction.
Another step I was not trained to do is the removing of old coffee oils from the portafilter between pulling shots. Different companies obviously have different methods, but this one just made sense. I picked it up from some other local baristas, and I feel it has given me cleaner, fresher shots. By simply keeping a dry bar towel on hand, and wiping the portafilter clean and dry (while still keeping it hot), the newly added grounds have a fresh start.
It's analogous to my similar method of always using a clean, chilled milk pitcher for each steam. Like coffee, once milk has been frothed it goes through chemical changes, and allowing this already-frothed milk to infiltrate future processes will not allow for a full, fresh preparation.
It's small details like this that can make the difference between an acceptable and a delicious, complex espresso, and I love discovering new techniques and perspectives.
For instance, one thing I was trained to do was to knock around the portafilter between tamps. This was to get any excess grounds off the edges, and allow for a smoother finish on the following tamps. But after reading this article, I realized that perhaps the knocking step could be elimated, the theory being that it will allow for a fuller extraction. Since knocking around the portafilter will break the seal of espresso along the edges of the filter basket, it gives the water that passes through a path of lesser resistance around the edges. Thus, less water in the ground, less coffee extraction.
Another step I was not trained to do is the removing of old coffee oils from the portafilter between pulling shots. Different companies obviously have different methods, but this one just made sense. I picked it up from some other local baristas, and I feel it has given me cleaner, fresher shots. By simply keeping a dry bar towel on hand, and wiping the portafilter clean and dry (while still keeping it hot), the newly added grounds have a fresh start.
It's analogous to my similar method of always using a clean, chilled milk pitcher for each steam. Like coffee, once milk has been frothed it goes through chemical changes, and allowing this already-frothed milk to infiltrate future processes will not allow for a full, fresh preparation.
It's small details like this that can make the difference between an acceptable and a delicious, complex espresso, and I love discovering new techniques and perspectives.
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