hit me with your best shot

 

My friend Dawn taught me about great coffee back when she was taking busboys to love school and my tiny girl and I were her wide-eyed roommates. We burned through many Mokka pots on an old stove at the beach house where you could watch whales while doing the dishes. Coffee beans were bought whole from the Pannikin, San Diego’s first roaster and primo coffee place, just down the street and way inside the world of coffee wonderland.

The tiny girl grew up and lives in San Francisco now, and she found my current favorite, Blue Bottle Coffee, when all they had on the SF side of the bay was a card-table stand at the Ferry Building farmers market (when it was only outside) and the kiosk in Hayes Valley on Linden, which is a street that feels like an alley. They’ve expanded and now have very cool places downtown and as far away as Brooklyn and Manhattan. If you’re near one, you should go in. It might change your life.

I’m still here in SoCal LoCal where the best equivalent nearby (no Pannikin out here in coyote world) is Peets, which is good and where I go for a fair number of lattes and free brown-paper packages of grounds for the garden. At home, though, I’m grateful every morning that Blue Bottle sells on the web as I wait in the kitchen at Casa de Swell for the little cups to top off with auburn crema that will kiss my lips.

Right next to “Coffee” on my Exceptional Things About Blue Bottle list is “Writing.” Each of the coffees and blends on their site has a description written by some clever person who is as terrific at stringing words as Blue Bottle is at the intricacies of coffee roasting and brewing. Here are some snippets.

One of the Mexican coffees: “A well-made cup of the Nayarita has melody and harmony. As it cools, an entire orchestra of fruit launches into a complex and juicy counterpoint. But it is not dainty – there is a big-boned, almost overripe, scary Joan Crawford component to the Nayarita. Not to be trifled with.”

One of the African coffees: “Initially intended for our blends, the Tumticha has recently edged its way into our hearts via a combination of restrained acidity, bergamot spice and plain old elbow grease. And yet, to simply call it a workhorse would be a grave injustice. Sure, it’s got the creamy body and kaleidoscopic jasmine that makes Yirgacheffes so desirable; but it also buzzes with notes of ginger, orange peel and sour grape. As espresso, it’s equal parts heft and delicacy, like a boxer picking tulips. Drink it while wandering through a Moroccan market, or while watching “Rudy” and pretending not to cry. It will deliver either way.”

And the one I drink most of the time, the old favorite Hayes Valley Espresso: “We developed this espresso over five years ago for the launch of our Kiosk on Linden Street. This is probably our darkest espresso: lower-toned, minimal brightness, plenty of chocolate – with an engaging complexity as a straight shot. The shots are gorgeous: achingly heavy with voluptuous red-brown crema, and the silky, somewhat dangerous-looking viscosity of a power-steering stop-leak product once used on our (now departed) heroically battered 1983 Peugeot. In milk, it tastes like chocolate ovaltine, and holds its own from the daintiest 3oz Macchiato to our towering 12oz caffe latte. The coffees in the blend come from Uganda, Guatemala, Brazil, Ethiopia, and Mexico. This is the most Brahmsian espresso we have. Brooding and autumnal, it is a coffee to mourn the passing of time.”

On days that there isn’t already enough drama in my life, I brew four ounces of Hayes Valley espresso and fluff up some warm milk. Then I lift the back of my hand to my forehead, tilt my chin slightly up and a few millimeters to the left, close my eyes and sigh.

 

Blue Bottle Coffee’s website:  www.bluebottlecoffee.net