Not exactly a deep philosophical dilemma. But, as events played out at our house over the holidays, a serious question to ponder nonetheless.
It all started when son Nicholas arrived at our vacation home for Christmas, proudly bearing two sacks of Stumptown coffee. For those not yet in-the-know, Stumptown is a cherished Portland, Oregon operation, with five stores there, two in Seattle and one in New York City.
“I hope you brought ground coffee; I don’t have a grinder,” I said as he unpacked his bags and looked at me in total shock. No grinder? How can any self-respecting coffee aficionado not have a grinder? Of course, he brought beans, because anyone who stops by the Stumptown coffee wagon at Penn every morning, and grinds and brews his own coffee – French Press, if you please – at home wouldn’t dream of bringing anything but beans.
Yes, I am a coffee aficionado. I have catalogued in my brain the best cups of java I’ve drunk in my life, starting with the perfect-crema espresso at Hotel Greif in Bolzano, Italy; the heavenly latte at a dinky café in Val D’Elsa, Tuscany; and the ethereal cappuccino at Sant Ambroeus on Madison Avenue in New York.
Yeah, I know all about Stumptown and Blue Bottle. I know that the Major Dickson's Blend at Peet’s Coffee is mighty fine. And I truly hate pretty much everything about Starbucks, other than the fact that you can get consistent lattes when you’re in godforsaken places that don’t know from consistent lattes (think Mesquite, NV). (Photo by Jim Wilson for The New York Times.)
But I don’t grind. And I don’t do brewed coffee, only
espresso. Haven’t crushed a bean for about 15 years when my restaurant-model
Faema espresso machine with grinder bit the dust. That’s also when I discovered
Illy Caffe. Ground. From Italy. In classic silver canisters. So, for two decades I’ve been smugly
making lattes every morning with ground Illy and milk frothed to a
fare-thee-well in my beloved Froth au Lait machine.
Until Christmas week 2012, that is.
“Well, OK, maybe I have a grinder around here somewhere,” I feebly answered Nicholas’s look of incredulity. And, indeed, I did have a functioning Braun grinder tucked away in a cabinet. And, I was totally blown away the first morning I ground Stumptown Ethiopia Mordecofe beans and brewed them in a Mr. Coffee that I also dug out of a cabinet.
This extraordinary cup of coffee had so many flavors swirling around it felt like a party. The little card that accompanied the bag suggested notes of mint chip ice cream, brown sugar, apple, fig and ginger, and I’ll be damned if I didn’t catch every one of those nuances in each complex, deeply satisfying sip. The aroma was intoxicating.
Nicholas wasn’t the only one leading the charge for grinding fresh beans that week. On January 2 the NYT Dining section ganged up on me with its cover story “Learning to Create the Perfect Cup of Coffee” and persuasive sidebar “Better Coffee Depends on Good Grinding.” (Photo by Jim Wilson for NYT.)
So, all right already. I’m convinced. Hooked. A convert. The
NYT was persuasive, but it was the flavor and fragrance of freshly ground and brewed Stumptown
Ethiopia Mordecofe and Hair Bender coffees (the latter promised notes of milk chocolate and
caramel and it delivered) that really sealed the deal.
Unfortunately, the Mordecofe brew is not currently available at Stumptown, so I’ll sit and sip my Illy (freshly ground, of course) until it’s back.
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