Archive for November, 2005
Posted on November 24, 2005 - by deCadmus
A Day of Thanks
Ah… Thanksgiving. A day to look back, reflect, and ponder all those things for which we are most grateful. And to stuff ourselves silly on carbolicious food.
Since when are fresh cranberries pink? Pink?! Absurd. No pink cranberries while I’m in charge of the cook-top… nope, it’s the rich, red-hued, three times conventional-priced organic cranberries to go with this year’s organic, locally-farmed turkey (guaranteed, says the turkey-farmer herself, to have gone to its reward with a happy grin on its beak — a privilege apparently reflected in the price I paid for the bird.)
Next year… I’m thinkin’ take-out. Or maybe I’ll lavish attention only on those beloved and traditional side dishes (cranberry sauce and pumpkin pie, of course… and maybe even the green bean casserole with the little french-fried onion thingies on top) all served up with sliced turkey from the deli-counter. Or, maybe it’s just the tryptophan talkin’.
Now where’s that pie?
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Posted on November 22, 2005 - by deCadmus
The Holiday Blend, Again.
It’s about that time of year — the air thrums with the holiday melodies of Bing and Nat and Manheim Steamroller, thrills with aromas of spruce and spice, and shop-fronts and shoppers alike dress in their Christmas finery — surely, Thanksgiving Day will soon be here.
What a wonderful, whacky world.
There’s my cue to undertake what’s become my own, personal holiday tradition… one which I look upon with all the optimism of the tyke I once was on Christmas morning, and all of the dread and frustration of the dad who’s discovered at 1 am in the morning that “Some assembly required” is a clever code for “You’re screwed… and you forgot the batteries, too, chump.” Been there.
It’s time for the Holiday Blend. Again.
Every year I take stock of the greens in my coffee cupboard, and puzzle through my roasting notes and tasting notes and post-it notes that are supposed to cross-reference one against the other. And I nod and I scheme and I imagine I just might pull it off this year… with some of this nippy Central, and — oh, definitely — a bit of that aged Sumatra, and maybe the Nicaraguan to lend it some velvet texture and oomph in the middle.
Or, maybe I’ll try an African base. The Rwanda was stunning, after all — oh! — it’s all gone. Well, that natural process Ethiopian was stunning, too… and it might marry up nicely with the Bali that had a bit of a briny something to it (won’t need the aged coffee with that) and… and… ah! round it out with that honeyed miel from El Salvador.
And so it goes.
This, dear reader, is how my annual lesson in patience and humility begins. With hubris — and the unflinching certainty that this year I’ve mapped the sensory experience of these coffees so well that I can play them back at will, recall the flavors and aromas and textures of all these coffees from far-flung origins, turn them over in my head until — like fitting an enchanted lock with its magical key — everything clicks, and a sensory symphony is revealed.
What utter crap. I am not Iron Chef Cadmus. I am not able to — with nothing but imagination and sheer force of will — assemble heretofore unimagined taste sensations so startling as to cause a Japanese movie queen to squeal and simper and laugh without covering her mouth. But I’ll try, anyway. And I’ll fail. Thoroughly.
In the end, I’ll do it the old-fashioned way. The way that works. Not with the bold strokes of an old master, but with the humble patience of a simple craftsman. I’ll roast coffees individually. I’ll brew coffees individually. I’ll taste coffees individually. And then I’ll measure and mix the brewed coffees, mingle aromas and flavors and textures, and carefully consider the results. And in the end — through persistence, and no small amount of failure — I will have a coffee that is more than the sum of its parts. Perhaps not a sensory symphony… but a catchy tune in its own right.
And in the end, that’s what I’ll roast and package and share with friends and neighbors — my holiday blend — humble patience.
Happy Holidays, one and all.
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Posted on November 20, 2005 - by deCadmus
Vermonter Quiz, Winter Edition
The Winter issue of Vermont Life magazine (no, the magazine title is not intended to be ironic) boasts a contest… a quiz whereby you may determine just how true a Vermonter you really are. Being a recent transplant — and a flatlander, at that — I quickly thumbed to the quiz pages, hoping to learn something new about my adopted home.
As it happens, not only do the editors not provide the answers to their 49 questions — not even as to why they seemingly lost their enthusiasm before they could advance the count to a nice, round 50 — from this flatlander’s point of view they’re asking the wrong questions. After all, I don’t lose any sleep over the fact that I don’t know the length of the state of Vermont, or of Vermont’s Long Trail (me, I thought a Long Trail was measured by its weight in ounces). Nor do I know the answer to the question, What is the smallest (organized) town in Vermont? Are they suggesting that some towns really have their act together, while others are merely confused federations of local taxpayers? A true Vermonter probably knows…
I’d think they could do those of us with a low Vermont Quotient a genuine service by asking questions that are truly relevant to the Vermont Experience… and, of course, providing a handy answer key. And so, in an effort to promote the general welfare of fellow transplants, flatlanders and other folk from Summer Else, I submit the following questions — and my understanding thus far of what the answers may be, ’cause heaven knows I haven’t been able to find a clue on Answers.com — for inclusion in the Vermonter Canon.
- What’s a plowbill?
A: This is the heart-stoppingly awesome sum of money you will be paying to a neighbor who has a truck or tractor with a snow blade attachment. It is a base rate that does not include tips or gratuities, which are not only appreciated, but evaluated to determine the relative urgency of removing the snow from your driveway as opposed to the drive of the guy down the road who pays in advance — in cash — and furthermore has a cute daughter of dating age.
- My street sign reads PVT. What’s that mean?
A: This is, in fact, an abbreviation for the Latin, Peculium Vermonti Terminum, or, the property of Vermont ends here. This means that neither the state of Vermont nor any of its townships (no matter how organized) make any claim to this property whatsoever… just think of that street as being a long feeder lane for your driveway, and refer to Question #1.
- Is it true that Vermonters have 23 words for snow?
A: No. In fact, Vermonters rarely refer to snow at all, save for waving a dismissive hand at “that white stuff”. Flatlanders, however, employ dozens of clever phrases to describe snow, many of which were made famous by comedian George Carlin… and some of which would likely make Mr. Carlin blush furiously.
- Why are there 5 foot poles on top of all the fireplugs?
A: On account of all that white stuff.
- The weatherman calls it a mild winter, but my thermometer reads 12 degrees below zero. What do Vermonters consider cold?
A: You see all those red barns? It’s cold when they turn blue.
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Posted on November 17, 2005 - by deCadmus
Single Cup Coffee Showdown: Tassimo vs. Keurig
– Update Alert! —
It’s two years since I wrote this comparison. I’ve since updated it. The updated version of this article can be found here.
– Update Alert! –
Just when you thought it was safe to cast your lot and pick a single cup coffee brewer (be it a pod coffee machine, K-Cup, capsule or pouch) there arrives on the scene a spiffy new machine — the Tassimo. 
Designed by Braun, manufactured by Saeco, and with its coffee supply manufactured exclusively by Kraft, the Tassimo paints itself as the smartest single serve coffee brewer yet.
It’s not the first single-cup brewer to go to market with a “smarter is better” approach. The Keurig line of home brewers — the B50, and more recently the stripped-down B-40 and the souped-up B60 — have leveraged micro-processor control since their initial introduction a year ago (about the same time the Tassimo was announced.) So how does the new kid on the block stack up against the Keurig brewer? Let’s find out — (more…)
Posted on November 14, 2005 - by deCadmus
What’s in a Name?
If your barista asks for your name, does is strike you as the neighborly thing to do? A community thing? Or is it nobody’s business?
Janice O’Leary offers offers one point of view in the Boston Globe :
In September, as part of a new policy, my Starbucks began requiring that its baristas ask customers their names. ”We have found that customers are pleasantly surprised to be greeted by name,” said Jennifer Guebert, the regional marketing director of Starbucks New England.
Surprised, yes.
At 7 a.m., however, it’s hard for me to imagine anything less pleasant than a group of cranky, caffeine-depleted addicts waiting impatiently for their fix.
At the risk of soundy snarky… would this make a hill of beans if this happened anywhere but Starbucks?
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Posted on November 14, 2005 - by deCadmus
Help Stan’s Victims: Buy Coffee
I’m especially pleased to see that Kenneth Davids has chosen to highlight coffees of Guatemala and the southern Mexico state of Chiapas — regions hard hit by hurricane Stan — in his November 2005 installment of Coffee Review. Says Ken:
Given Guatemala’s and Chiapas’ long history as two of the world’s great coffee growing regions, regions where coffee is woven tightly into the fabric of the lives of the mainly indigenous small growers, quiet, hard-working people whom many of us have visited and come to admire for their tenacious spirit and often superb coffee, it seemed appropriate to celebrate Guatemala and Chiapas coffees with a review of some of the great coffees that yearly emerge from the cooperatives and farms of these regions.
Clearly the best thing to do when disaster strikes the people of a coffee growing region is to continue to buy their coffees, and the worst is to stop buying them. We need not only to be generous in our outright gifts of support for affected growers (see the end of this article), but also in our continued appreciation and recognition of their achievement.
Gifts of support (the same the Ken refers to, above) can be made to:
- Coffee Kids is not a relief organization as such, but one that offers continuing and dedicated support to coffee communities around the world. They’ve set up a special fund and outreach program to help Stan’s victims.
- Coffee Quality Institute is working directly with the growers at the especially hard-hit La Voz qui Clama en el Desierto (La Voz). No online collection, instead please send your tax-deductible donation in the form of a check made out to “CQI/La Voz” to: Coffee Quality Institute 330 Golden Shore, Suite 50 Long Beach, CA 90802 Attn: Mike Pomerleau.
- Project HOPE has worked establishing health clinics in Guatemalan coffee-growing areas since 1976. They’re soliciting tax-deductible donations to support immediate humanitarian medical assistance and long-term recovery and reconstruction in the coffee-growing regions of Guatemala.
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Posted on November 13, 2005 - by deCadmus
Briefly Noted
Short shots of coffee:
- Slate Magazine — in a bid to become the paean of consumer reviews — suggests you forget everything you think you know about tea-kettles. (Not a tea-drinker, you? Those self-same kettles are just the thing to fuel your press pot and pour-over cones.) This time Slate’s spot-on, unlike last year’s attempt to “review espresso machines on a level playing field” (good for a giggle, though.)
- Fortune waxes eloquent on the coffees of Batdorf & Bronson’s new Latitudes line. Mayhaps she describes them too well… you, too, may be reaching for your MasterCard before you’ve finished the post.
- Proctor & Gamble’s response to the woman who’s apparently found a turtle in her package of Folgers coffee: “We believe this is an isolated incident.” Cue the music: The best part of wakin’ up… a turtle in your cup.
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Posted on November 13, 2005 - by deCadmus
It’s Pathetic!
Ah… the classic Christmas stories: Holiday Inn, It’s A Wonderful Life, Miracle on 34th Street, and my personal favorite, A Charlie Brown Christmas.
You may never own an Inn in Vermont, experience what the world would be like without you, or meet the real Santa Claus… but you can get your very own Pathetic Christmas Tree.
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Posted on November 13, 2005 - by deCadmus
Udderly Debunked
Learned scientific-type persons have now thoroughly debunked cow-tipping as nothing more than myth, or rural legend. (Not exactly urban now, is it?) Seeing as how it’s impossible and all, I can state categorically that neither I nor my brothers, nor any member of my extended family in or around the town of Madison, Missouri have ever tipped a cow… ’cause it simply can’t be done.
Glad that’s settled, ’cause I wouldn’t want Uncle Bob to hold a grudge about something that certainly never happened. It’s impossible you know. It would take at least four or five folks to do such a thing. Or one Duane.
(Note to physicists: I think you failed to account for the acceleration of the cow-tippers in your model. Don’t think lever, think offensive front line. Not that I’d know anything about that at all. Just speculatin’.)
Posted on November 10, 2005 - by deCadmus
Tasting: Seattle’s Best “Henry’s Blend”
- Rating: Rating:
The story on the oh-so-hipster bag says that Henry’s Blend is “named after the big friendly cat that once lived at the original Seattle’s Best Coffee roasting plant on Vashon Island.”
Aptly so.
The trouble with a stray cat is, that cat’s never really gonna be your friend. A stray cat’s got no boss, no loyalties and no apologies — ever. Oh sure, you might think that cat’s your buddy… but you’re kidding yourself. If a better deal comes along it’s outta here and gone, and don’t you go making the mistake of getting in its way. No sir, a stray cat is inconstant as a November sky. (more…)
Hello.
Bloggle is the online playground of Doug Cadmus, a usability guy, writer, photographer and sometime dramatist who moved to Vermont for the coffee. When not writing, reading or walking his old, blind golden retriever, he roasts coffee in his garage and is the Web Guy for Green Mountain Coffee in Waterbury, VT.Flickr Photos
