I very recently acquired Scott Rao’s new book, Everything But Espresso, and having turned through its pages a couple of times I am struck by what a timely piece it is. I agree wholeheartedly with the spirit of the book, and to a large extent the details. The prominence Scott places on correct extraction, brew ratios, even extraction, consistency of methodologies, are all bankable principles – and I will concur with James’ verdict, it is an essential acquisition.

Scott also raises for me, some thought provoking though more debatable topics, such as coffee bed geometry, and the merits of post brew inspection of said bed, and brew diagnosis. The tenant of his point is that there are certain actions you can take to affect the end bed architecture, that will improve the evenness of drawdown, which will impact the quality of that portion of the brew (though not necessarily making up for problems with other parts of the brew).

It is hard to argue with his logic.

This train of thought brought me back to rewatching THAT video, and to rereading THAT divisive but very interesting thread on Coffeed.

One of the points that comes up was whether the grinds at the bottom of the cone were overextracted relative to the grinds at the top of the cone. Though this seems self-evident, especially when a lot of the top grinds are out of the equation at an early stage, has anyone shown real evidence of this?

Methodology

To show some real evidence of this, using an Uber Boiler set to 92C I prepared 8 pour over brews (actually 9 as there was 1 duplicated with a Buono kettle). Using a Chemex, a V60, a Donut dripper, and a Melitta dripper, I prepared 2 500g (brew water weight) / 30g (ground coffee weight) brews with each, the first a continuous center pour with no manual agitation (ala the SqM video), the second using a series of small pours with stirring at the beginning and end (ala the book).

When these brews were completed I immediately retrieved used grinds from the filter papers, split approximately in half, resulting in two samples from each brew (a total of 16 samples) – representing the top grinds and the bottom grinds.

These were spread out on ceramic saucers and dried in a 50C oven for 30mins.

6g samples of dried grinds were weighed, and rebrewed with 100g of boiling water for 10 minutes to extract remaining solubles.

Beverage strength of these rebrews was determined with a Reichert R2mini Refractometer (aka the Extract Mojo refractometer).

For illustration purposes, soluble yields are normalized (ie graphs represent the ratio of top to bottom – with the higher yielding sample always being one).

Comments on the methodology

• Apart from the V60 center pour / no agitation test, which was performed twice, all of these are n=1, and as such are not statistically significant, or to be considered definitive. I would encourage others to replicate these experiments.
• 92C was chosen somewhat arbitrarily, as it was the temperature being used by 3FE to brew Hasbean’s Finca La Fany via Chemex. This was the coffee used for the experiment.
• Ideally a higher number of samples would be taken, as I am certain extraction imbalances are likely to be gradiential rather than binary.
• Boiling water was used without any regard for brewing convention and taste, instead merely to readily extract a large proportion of the remaining solubles.

Results

I will present the results on a brewer by brewer basis.

I expected the V60 brew to deliver a relatively even extraction, due to the perception that substantial brew water leaves the brew via the sides as well as the bottom, also it seemed to me plausible that the center pour no agitation method could produce an even extraction if the brew water path was through an equidistant bed of coffee along all surfaces.

My results indicated (and this one was done twice – and the results agreed) that the V60 with this methodology produced the greatest discrepancy between top and bottom. I retrieved 4 times more solubles from the grinds at the top of the cone, than the grinds at the bottom of the cone, when rebrewed.

Using the stirring methodology, greatly improved this, to the point that I retrieved only marginally more solubles from the top grinds. The ratio here was 4:3, instead of 4:1, still uneven but greatly improved.

I expected the Chemex on the other hand to produce the most uneven results, with all of the brew water channeling through the point of the cone, with little side drainage.

The first Chemex brew (similar to James’ video) produced a brew greatly more even than the same V60 brew, while not as good as the stirred V60 brew. In the case of the Chemex, I found the stirring I performed to negatively impact the evenness of the extraction.

The Melitta cone, was probably the star performer on the day, producing an unstirred brew slightly more even than the Chemex brew, and only slightly less even than the sitrred V60. In the stirred Melitta brew, however, the two samples were almost indistinguishable, and certainly within the margin of error of the Reichert mini refractometer, and my experimental methodology.

The Donut, a brewer I used a lot prior to dropping it on the floor and breaking it produced the most even unstirred brew. Oddly, however, unlike the other 3 brewers it produced a brew in which more was extracted from the top, than the bottom. When stirred, however, it produced a brew slightly less even, though markedly different in that now the bottom was more extracted.

Discussion

I would stress that these are n=1 findings (apart from in one instance), and should not be used to definitively call one brewer superior to another. What I would confidently take from this, perhaps, is that cone shaped brew basket geometry produces and uneven extraction in general, and that stirring can impact both positively or negatively the end result.

The V60, which I will confess has been my brewer of choice of late, on two separate brews, one with the Uber and one with a Buono kettle (at home) produced the most uneven extractions. Certainly, in the process of preparing all the brews on 3FE’s Uber, and tasting small samples of each, I remarked that the V60 brew tasted the worst, jangly, hollow even. This would not have been in keeping with my general opinion on the device.

The Donut, I find quite intriguing, as its geometry is the most unique (in this group). It could be most accurately called a truncated cone, or thought of as somewhere between a cone and a cylinder. Some say it is a pointless brewer (ahem), and I would agree with that – as such the bottleneck effect on the path of the brew water would appear to be less dramatic than any of the other brewers (although the choice of one central hole in favour of several dispersed  perhaps diminishes this). There are so many possible factors that might  explain the results I observed, with this brewer that for me to single some out would be close to idle speculation. So I won’t.

The humble Melitta cone held its own on the numbers front at least, and when stirred produced the most even extraction. Its hard for me to say why I hold little affection for the Melitta cone, perhaps not least because I cannot seem to get filter papers for it that don’t taste like sawdust. Certainly though in terms of geometry it would seem to stand a better chance than the cone shaped V60 or Chemex beds at producing an even extraction.

The question, which naturally proposes itself amidst all of this is whether an even extraction is truly the most desirable outcome of brewing some coffee. Peter Giuliano’s steak analogy on the Coffeed thread, suggests an alternative is possible. While the cooking of steak probably has more in common with the roasting of coffee than the brewing of it, and I don’t think anyone advocates uneven roasting, Peter’s point is a fair and reasonable one.

Scott Rao somewhat addresses this in his book, suggesting that because grinders produce a wide range of particle sizes anyway, that the complexity of multiple extraction levels will always be achieved, even in an otherwise “even brew”. It is unclear if Scott is merely eliminating the complexity argument as a potential criticism for his proposed methodologies, or if he believes the complexity of an extraction spectrum is desirable.

For my part, having compared a lot of brews made with sieved grinds and non-sieved grinds, I remain in favour of evenly extracted brews made from grinds all of the same size (or as narrow a size distribution as possible). I think we have acquired the taste for what our grinders can produce, and somewhat for what our brewers can produce. This is what coffee should taste like in our mind, it is the baseline from which we judge everything. We have , I propose, acquired a taste for unevenness of varying degrees. I would propose an experiment where non-coffee drinkers are given a preference test to determine whether they would choose the sifted brew over the non-sifted kind. My money would be on the former.

But I digress.

My bottom line is that I see no rational reason why we should choose an uneven extraction. Let’s not get hung up on defending our corner, our methodologies, by proclaiming unevenness “a feature”, whether due to grinder, or brewer.

It’s not a feature, it’s a bug.

A little over a month ago, on a Friday evening, nursing a bottle of wine, and feeling rather in love with the world, I made this blog post. The result was thirty people sending and receiving bags of coffee from all over the world; thirty people who put their faith in complete strangers to uphold their side of the bargain. It has broadly been very successful, with the only caveats being an inevitable couple of lost/delayed packages expected of these kind of international shipments.

The group of people involved include coffeegeeks, roasters, baristas, trainers, retailers and even a grower. Coffees sent (that I am aware of) have come from Supreme Roastworks, Square Mile, 49th Parallel, Catalina Coffee, Safehouse Coffee & Tea, Brown Coffee Co, Wolfredo, Ritual, Intelligentsia, Five Senses, Hasbean, Espresso Lab Mircoroasters, iKhofi, Coffee Prince, Market Lane Coffee, James Gourmet Coffee, Coffee Alchemy, and Monk Bodhi Dharma.

Phew.

Some reactions…

From Chris Capell, a coffeegeek turned coffee pro from Montreal on Square Mile’s Yirg – [sent by Paul Stack]:

…there was one clear taste note listed on the bag that completely shined through in every sip: sweet lime. It was so pronounced that as it spread across my tongue I was often afraid it would turn sharp and unpleasant, but at that exact moment it would soften and the sweet, chocolate base notes of a properly extracted coffee would then come through, balancing out the taste. The best word I could come up with to describe this taste experience is that the coffee *shimmered*.

Collin Moody (Catalina Coffee) on 49th Parallel’s Burundi Kibingo [sent by Chris Capell]:

It has intense floral sweetness with soft rounded stone fruit that overwhelms the palate in a wonderful way. I’ve been enjoying this coffee quite a bit and am surprised by how well the coffee has held up. This is my first experience of a coffee from 49th and i am happy to have found another stellar North American roaster i can order from every once in a while!

Jesse Raub, a barista with Intelligentsia in Chicago on Brown Coffee Co’s Karuya Estate [sent by Daniel Larsen]:

After running it on the V60, Chemex, and Cafe Solo at home and off shift at work, I was nicely surprised by the consistent flavor notes — red licorice, savory body, and anise seed in the finish. It was a bit darker of a roast than I’m used to, especially for a Kenya, so it was really great to get to try a coffee outside my normal spectrum. More than anything it’s expanded my viewpoint of coffee in this country, and put me in touch with more coffee people in Texas than I had been previously.

Paul Canavan from Ireland, on Coffee Prince’s Knockrow Naturals [sent by Cameron Prince]:

Om nyom nyom nyom

Joe Crawley, from Ireland, on Monk Bodhi Dharma’s Kenya Tinganga [sent by Emily Chang]:

The coffee arrived on Tuesday and I’ve been busily making my way through it. It’s a beautiful Kenyan altogether and the roasters certainly seem to know what they’re doing.

Chris Grant, from Orelia, near Perth, Square Mile’s Colonia San Juan Espresso [sent by Joe Crawley]:

It had a unique… lovely smokey taste to it with a bold yet powerful smell and a very subtle taste leaving a lovely aftertaste for me to hang there till i made myself another cup.
The colour it gave whilst being poured through the portafilter was a lovely golden caramel colour.

Mark Wilson, from London, on Five Senses Coffees [sent by Andrew Petrie]:

I received from Australia two bags of roasted coffee, one which was Rwandan Abakundakawa and the other was Ethiopian Sidamo, I am fairly new in the world of speciality coffee and have been trying to expand my palate so this was a real treat. The Sidamo very quickly became a firm favourite with me and was like drinking a bar of very dark bitter chocolate complete with the dry mouth feel – think Lindt 70% cocoa.

Matt Perger (via Twitter), from Melbourne, on Hasbean’s Colombian Narino Consaca [sent by Paul Canavan]:

My @otherblackstuff pass-it-on coffee by @hasbean is suuuuper sweet melony goodness!! http://twitpic.com/24uvrn

So thanks to everyone who took part. I’m going to close the comments on the original post now, as it’s been a few weeks since the last comment. To those still awaiting your coffee, it seems that South Africa has been slow due to the World Cup, followed it seems by Australia. I have had comments from participants who don’t know if their bag arrived at its desintation, and have offered to send out a second bag if necessary.

A couple of other blog mentions:

Kalle Freese

hermitudinous

If anyone has anything to add to the above, please feel free to drop comments below.

I’ll leave you with the map (definitely worth viewing large).

It was an odd few days, a very different WBC to last year’s. The atmosphere at the show was simultaneously wonderfully convivial and at times disconcertingly surreal. I found my mind switching between awe at the assembled talent and resources, and reeling against what I hope most will forgive me for calling the sometimes boderline absurdity of this subculture. It is a happy kind of absurdity I must add.

I first met Mike Phillips in Atlanta at WBC ‘09, and I thought he delivered then a performance worthy of winning a WBC, and another year may well have done so. It was inspirational and original. Mike, personally, is hugely skilled, excessively humble, without a trace of arrogance for which, given his expertise most would readily forgive, and I’m delighted that one of the few competitors who could compare to Gwilym Davies on those levels will carry on the mantle.

As for Colin’s performance, I am enormously proud to be able to claim him as a friend. His performance was not only original, and inspiring, but it was also staggeringly brave and important. I do expect it to spark a discussion on water, which is much overdue. Similar to Mike’s 09 performance, I also feel Colin’s performance was worthy of winning a WBC, and another year, probably would have done so.

I have for my part to thank Steve Leighton, Paul Stack, Shane Pender, and Colin Harmon for getting me focused for the cupping competition. Steve provided a slew of coffees to challenge my abilities, Paul and Shane setup the triangles, and Colin provided some stiff competition. Thanks guys. I am indebted.

I drank beautiful coffee from Intelligentsia, Da Matteo, Counter Culture, Hasbean, Coffee Angel, Square Mile and Tim Wendelboe at the Brew Bar. I had Gwilym Davies and Charles Babinski make me espresso and capps on the espresso bar. David Schomer even pulled me a shot on the La Marzocco stand on the new Strada. Every beautiful coffee reminded me of why we do this, why what might seem absurd and excessive to someone unfamiliar, can be justified by us without too much difficulty.

More than all this though, I left London I suppose with renewed inspiration, not only from Mike and Colin, from Steve and Paul, but from John and Oda, from Ben and Barrett, from Vince and Rasmus. These individuals along with dozens of others are changing the coffee world from their own corner. Knowing that fills me with ample optimism for coffee’s continued evolution, and for delights yet to come.

One of the great things I enjoy about coffee, is sharing a coffee I love with someone. Recently I’ve been running Saturday cupping sessions at 3FE, and seeing week after week people getting those new experiences has been really fulfilling. I also feel I spend far too much time on this blog being cantankerous, this I hope will be my penance for dozens of long winded blog posts.

I don’t know if this is going to work, in the cold light of the morning it may seem shockingly naive, but here goes. The first person to comment on this post gets a bag of coffee of my choosing from a roaster of my choosing (and an email explaining my choice). However, by commenting you are committing to do the same for the next person to comment (in a timely manner – you shall be held on your honour), and so on and so forth.

I don’t know who that person may be, where in the world they may be, but I do already have some candidate coffees in my mind. Cups I’d love to share. Their locale will probably influence my choice – eg probably wouldn’t send a bag of coffee from one of Hasbean / SqM / JGC to someone based in the UK as they could already be quite familiar with their offerings etc.

I will pass on/coordinate postal addresses if you forward them to me via the contact page (after commenting).

*edit* don’t forget to send me your address!

You may have seen the poll I recently posted to the blog asking you to make a choice between two hypothetical cups of coffee. In essence asking if you would prefer to drink an average coffee (ie rated on green quality) that was roasted to show it at it’s best, or a really excellent coffee that was given an average roast, showing it at less than it’s best. While a little confusion and debate lingered over what exactly a 90 point roast would be, in no small part fuelled by the honourable Mr Cho’s mischief (I love you really Nick), a clear winner emerged in the vote. You chose the average coffee that was given a really excellent roast.

So would I for what it’s worth.

I didn’t want to pad the question with too much detail, for fear of leading the answers, but when I was originally thinking about this question, I envisaged the average roast to be one that was certainly drinkable, though regardless of level perhaps had a discernible roast characteristic, perhaps was a little flat or muted, and in general didn’t highlight the best qualities of the coffee. The really great roast for me is most often the one that you don’t notice the roast, just the coffee. Sometimes I like to comment that these seems as if the beans had grown on the tree already roasted. I say this again without allusion to the level of roast (within reason).

Green quality is constantly improving due to advancements and refinements in growing, harvesting, processing and even shipping. One could argue that green quality has improved (when looked at quite broadly) at a rate exceeding that of roast quality. The ratio of 90+ point coffees to roasters of comparable quality seems to be dropping year on year.

In the discussion that followed the poll a theme emerged of the quality of roast being a personal choice or preference, or even a geographical trait. One man’s 90 point roast, might be another man’s 80 point roast. While this wasn’t in my original thoughts, I do accept that it would probably seem to be more difficult to come to a consensus on a roast score than on a coffee score. Unquestionably there will be many opinions on what the best roast of a certain coffee would be, but I would hope we can all identify a roast of high quality.

Roast level (as opposed to roast quality) can be looked at as having regional idiosyncrasies. We could look at the differences between a typical Norwegian roast and a typical US roast and maybe draw some conclusions, perhaps tainted by our personal preferences. We can paint with broad brush strokes saying that US roasters burn the arse out of their coffee, or that the Scandanavians merely leave the coffee out in the sun for a short period of time to reach their desired level. This is of course bollox of the highest order. Roast level only says so much, an Agtron machine cannot tell you how good a coffee tastes, whether it has been tipped, scorched, baked or otherwise befuddled.

I’m probably not ever going to be fan of coffees roasted past a certain level, but I can appreciate a good roast that spans a reasonably broad range. I could envisage there being several 90 point roast interpretations of a given coffee.

There will be more excellent coffees grown this year, than I could possibly drink, or will even have the opportunity to drink, and some of the most expensive, most coveted lots will be roasted carelessly. This happens, a lot, I’ve drank them. It sucks. I guess this was my point leading into the question. I’m glad to find myself in agreement with a majority. Kudos to you dear readers, kudos.

Putting aside the merits of the 100 point scale, not getting hung up on semantics if you were offered both of these coffees (to drink) – which would you choose?

During some recent shenanigans at Marco HQ, Paul Stack (El Grande Uber himself) whipped out a bunch of these Xpress thingies. They’re made by a company called Smartcup, and the basic idea is that it is a disposable french press that is also your cup. The idea of a cup with a built in press isn’t all that new, but in a disposable form I guess it is. So instead of getting a cup of brewed coffee and taking that away, you would get a cup of brewing coffee and take that away. I would have a few concerns, but anyway, here’s what Paul thought.

What does it say about speciality coffee that the SCAE has a very well supported annual latte art competition but no brewed coffee competition?[1]

Barista competition season has had me thinking – has the collective consciousness finally moved on from that unwritten judgment of pouring traditional cappuccinos? Don’t know what I’m talking about?

Let me rewind to Copenhagen ‘08, a simpler time. John Muli, the Kenyan barista champion, poured traditional cappuccinos. However, he made a really clear point of saying to the judges that it was an active choice to do so, and that he was actually very good at latte art.

That he felt it necessary to justify it speaks volumes about what latte art has meant, and maybe still does mean. It was one very visible symbol of inclusion, a third wave hallmark, almost like a secret handshake. It was something WE did, and THEY didn’t etc.

It seems to me the waning of the fascination with latte art is perhaps coinciding with the upswing in popularity for filter coffee. We are spending more time and energy now actually bigging up the coffee, terroir, nuances. We are getting excited about “the coffee” unlike the last decade or so where it seemed an inordinate amount of time was spent glorifying milk.

Even the prototypical 5/6oz cappuccino is, when looked at objectively, a milk drink. Coffee flavoured milk. So much time and effort was spent on the minutae of microfoam (I too was that soldier), and on from that latte art, ever more intricate latte art.

Of course latte art is by no means obsolete, nor is it worthless. When I want some coffee flavoured milk, I’ll admit I do like it to be visually appealing, personally I’m a kind of heart / tulip guy – simple, not too difficult to achieve a pleasing symmetry. However, I really have to draw the line with wave hearts, swans, dragons, double, triple rosettas etc. They are ugly. Always. Regardless of how much skill is involved. That they even exist seems an aberration, an excessive amount of technique misdirected.

What does it mean that the Speciality Coffee Association of Europe has an annual Latte Art competition, yet no brewed coffee competition? I think it is starting to appear anachronistic, and like a lot of misdirected effort.

[1] It is of course an inevitability that a brewed coffee competition will materialize. The World Aeropress Championships (in its 3rd year) and even Ireland's BrewHaHa (in its first year) speak to this rising tide. Whether in these guises, or a hybrid or something new, no doubt in the next couple of years it will happen.

One of the first “truths” I learned as I became exposed to the world of better coffee was that omni-grind is inherently a nonsense. This seemed entirely logical, how could one grind fulfill the idiosyncrasies of a multitude of brewing methods. I did not offer much resistance to my acceptance of this conventional wisdom. The dogma of relative grind sizes has been widely propogated in the popular coffee lexicon to the extent that even those with the most basic of understandings of coffee brewing will probably be able to recite the ordered list. From fine to coarse it goes Turkish – Espresso – Moka – Drip – Press – Percolator (or thereabouts). Omni-grind was just one more by-product of commercial coffee roasters that we could bash them over the head with (also not sure why we call THEM commercial coffee – as far as I can see all coffee is commercial – I digress).

I think we were hasty to do so.

I accept that espresso is unique and requires a very specific grind consideration. To be perfectly honest I have next to no interest in Turkish or Percolator, so I will refrain from expending further wordage on their merit. That leaves us with Moka, Drip and Press. In the last week I have brewed to acceptable extraction percentage (and taste) with all three of these brew methods using the same grind setting on my grinder.

To all intents and purposes my grinder had become a producer of omni-grind… an omni-grinder.

The question that presents itself to me is why did we come up with this preconceived notion of relative grind sizes for different brewing methods. Why do we assume for instance that French Press requires a different (read: coarser) grind size to drip?

Another piece of conventional wisdom that I think contributes to this, and that I take umbrage with is the prescription of 4 mintues brew time. I’ve yet to be convinced that a 19% extraction in 2:30mins is inferior to 19% in 4 minutes, though the arguement has been made by some. I’m open at least to at some point in the future being proven wrong on that point. However, trying to reach this 4 minute mark can place certain mechanical restrictions on the grind size that go beyond considerations of extraction (and taste). Such as…

The flow rate (or percolation) of brew water through a bed of coffee during drip brewing is inversely proportional to grind size. In order to get to that 4 minutes, depending on the shape and other physical characeteristics of the brew basket, might require that we make adjustments to the grind.

A mechano-physical consideration with regards to the french press is the permeability of the filter mesh, and the resulting sludge. Logic suggests that a coarser grind will result in less sludge. I wouldn’t question a right-thinking mind would assume that the mesh was designed with a certain size of grind in mind, and that using this combination together couldn’t result in a cup with such an obviously displeasing flaw. Such seemingly reasonable conclusions are unfortunately largely false. While the magnitude of the sludge can be impacted to a degree, short of post-press filtration it is always present (even in my experience with administration of scoopy-scoopy). There are diminishing returns in pursuing the coarse grind route with french press, and it becomes difficult to marry it to the 4 minute dogma short of significant agitation.

Somewhere along the line it also became popularized that so called “full immersion” brewing (steeping) is more efficient at extraction than drip. Grinds in a french press tend to sit for most of the contact time in a static manner (sometimes forming a partially floating layer on top of the brew water). Though the osmotic potential of the brew water is initially quite high it is always declining. The lack of agitation also means that local concentrations of dissolved solute surrouding the grinds is comparably higher than the overall concentration as there is insufficient kinetic energy to rapidly even this out. This adds up to a relatively inefficient system on face value.

Consider a drip brew on the other hand. Fresh brew water is added throughout the brew (save the final drain) and dissolved solute is constantly leaving the system, maintaining osmotic potential. Add to that a small but not insignificant degree of agitation due to the pouring (and the kinetic energy due to the percolation) and in theory at least would suggest that there is the potential for greater efficiency of extraction.

In real terms this concurs with my typical brewing parameters. Not only have I used the same sized grind for drip and press, but my drip brews tend to complete final drain between 2:30mins and 3mins, while I tend not to plunge the french press until 4 minutes. When I drag the V60 brew out to 4minutes using that grind it results in a distinctly overextracted, bitter cup.

I doubt I am the first person to make these observations, but perhaps it is worth suggesting that people avoid being mislead by what amounts to a folklore, that we waste less time trying to fit our brews to what we blindly believe to be “correct” parameters, and perhaps that we pause a moment before the next time we rush to scoff at the mention of omni-grind.

This post is actually somewhat inspired by a recent rant. I do like a good rant, and Karl Purdy delivered a fine one on the Forkncork forums following the Irish Barista Championships. Karl’s a good guy, and as many are no doubt aware has played a big role in moving quality in the coffee scene in Ireland forward. I completely understand his sentiments, he is one of a very small number of people in Ireland who are keeping pace with international Speciality Coffee standards. By very small number, I would say, count on one hand, with fingers to spare.

His penultimate sentence stuck with me:

And to the all the so-called expert f&w journalists out there, would you please accept that there is still some things to learn – quite a lot actually.

This applies to everyone, not just journalists. Expertise in a way is relative. There are points when I would have perceived myself as having some level of coffee expertise, and when I look back now, it is with abject embarrassment. I knew pretty much nothing. What I thought I knew was a combination of some truths, plenty of lore, a dash of conventional wisdom, and more utter nonsense than I would have thought possible. Even now, I feel that if I were studying for a degree in coffee, I would be only out of the first class in the first semester of the first year.

I’m entering into platitude territory here, but it is as true for coffee as it is other fields – the more you learn the less you know.

Part of the responsibility for the slow rise of quality in Ireland is of course charged with the audience, though much also lies with those of us who want to proliferate these ideas and our ability to communicate better coffee.

I’m not entirely sure what kind of demographic makes up the readership of my blog, I suspect to a degree I am preaching to the choir. However, if you are reading this, and work in coffee (in Ireland, but would apply elsewhere), as a retailer, or roaster or at any step contributing towards producing coffee, I would ask that you consider this question:

Can my coffee be better?

Again we come back to relativity. The answer to this question depends on the best cup of coffee you’ve ever had – that’s your benchmark, against which you compare everything else. So I would suggest making sure your benchmark is set at a good level. This is your practical assignment. Go to 3FE for an espresso or a filter coffee, or get Karl to make you a cappuccino at Coffee Angel, even grab a cheap flight (volcano permitting) over to London and visit a few of the many excellent coffee bars there.

Having done this, and it is a most important step, ask yourself:

Can my coffee be better?

If you find that it can, and you are perhaps somewhat surprised, do not worry. There’s no magic involved, no trade secrets, and there has never been such ready access to all the information required to get there as there is now. The most important thing is that you want to get there, and are willing to learn. Also feel reassured that to get to this realization you probably possess an enormously valuable tool for this journey, a palate.

If you find instead that your coffee actually rocks having made this comparison, please drop me a line via the contact page, or leave a comment. I would love to taste your coffee.