Thursday, April 22, 2010

percolator coffee

My New Percolator
When you have just enough training in specialty coffee to be dangerous, you tend to look down your nose in disgust at the very concept of percolator coffee. It seems like a dangerous recipe for over-extraction at best; on a more subjective level, most of us have painful memories of being served something out of a percolator -- probably at "coffee hour" after church -- that resembled not so much coffee as filth-clouded pond water.

It was, then, part madness and part experimental curiosity that led me to experiment with making "good" percolator coffee. The percolator, a classic General Electric model probably dating from the 1970's, was purchased in excellent condition from a nearby St. Vincent de Paul Thrift Store for a reasonable $7.00 USD. I started with fresh beans as usual to the top edge of my handheld blade grinder's bean reservoir; a full-bodied blend taken just past full-city into a "medium" roast; I filled the percolator to the 8 cup mark, set the switch all the way to "dark", and plugged it in.

The resulting coffee was extraordinarily palatable considering my low expectations. In fact, it had many of the qualities of gold filter coffee -- moderate residue and oils, no paper filter aftertaste -- and none of the bitter tang of hyperextraction I had feared. I am not sure exactly how a coffee brewed by pushing hot water through coffee grounds, and then re-pushing said coffee through the same grounds again, etc., would produce such a fine, silky-satiny, even-tempered dark-amber brew with overtones of maple and brandy. It seems...counter-intuitive. And yet, our grandparents weren't crazy after all. They just shouldn't have used canned coffee.

I am filing this experience under "success" and will continue to drink this coffee in the future. Good luck with your own experiments!

coffee in celebration of life


My uncle Pete -- father, sailor, mountaineer, vagabond, poet -- passed away recently, and at the reception following his well-attended memorial, coffee was served. Specifically, it was Batdorf & Bronson -- a small-batch artisanal roaster in Olympia, WA, and his favorite coffee purveyor. Purchased from their retail specialty coffee operation, Dancing Goats, the varietal on offer was Costa Rica La Minita Del Sol. True to what it says on the package, the brew
features a brilliant acidity and luscious body that combine for perfect balance and illuminate flavors of maple syrup and freshly squeezed orange juice. This coffee is sweet and rewarding, with a crystal clean finish.


Pete would have enjoyed this coffee, I think. He had a great interest in Central American culture and history, and as highly trained a palate as anybody in our industry could ask for. He was a person who tasted life. It was very satisfying to share this coffee in his memory, and it will always remind me of him.