Tag Archives: Brikka

Homeroasting and Coffee Geekness

I’m a coffee geek. By which I mean that I have a geeky attitude to coffee. I’m passionate about the crafts and arts of coffee making, I seek coffee-related knowledge wherever I can find it, I can talk about coffee until people’s eyes glaze over (which happens more quickly than I’d guess possible), and I even dream about coffee gadgets. I’m not a typical gadget freak, as far as geek culture goes, but coffee is one area where I may invest in some gadgetry.

Perhaps my most visible acts of coffee geekery came in the form of updates I posted through diverse platforms about my home coffee brewing experiences. Did it from February to July. These posts contained cryptic details about diverse measurements, including water temperature and index of refraction. It probably contributed to people’s awareness of my coffee geek identity, which itself has been the source of fun things like a friend bringing me back coffee from Ethiopia.

But I digress, a bit. This is both about coffee geekness in general and about homeroasting in particular.

See, I bought myself this Hearthware i-Roast 2 dedicated homeroasting device. And I’m dreaming about coffee again.

Been homeroasting since December 2002, at the time I moved to Moncton, New Brunswick and was lucky enough to get in touch with Terry Montague of Down Esst Coffee.

Though I had been wishing to homeroast for a while before that and had become an intense coffee-lover fifteen years prior to contacting him, Terry is the one who enabled me to start roasting green coffee beans at home. He procured me a popcorn popper, sourced me some quality green beans, gave me some advice. And off I was.

Homeroasting is remarkably easy. And it makes a huge difference in one’s appreciation of coffee. People in the coffee industry, especially baristas and professional roasters, tend to talk about the “channel” going from the farmer to the “consumer.” In some ways, homeroasting gets the coffee-lover a few steps closer to the farmer, both by eliminating a few intermediaries in the channel and by making coffee into much less of a commodity. Once you’ve spent some time smelling the fumes emanated by different coffee varietals and looking carefully at individual beans, you can’t help but get a deeper appreciation for the farmer’s and even the picker’s work. When you roast 150g or less at a time, every coffee bean seems much more valuable. Further, as you experiment with different beans and roast profiles, you get to experience coffee in all of its splendour.

A popcorn popper may sound like a crude way to roast coffee. And it might be. Naysayers may be right in their appraisal of poppers as a coffee roasting method. You’re restricted in different ways and it seems impossible to produce exquisite coffee. But having roasted with a popper for seven years, I can say that my poppers gave me some of my most memorable coffee experiences. Including some of the most pleasant ones, like this organic Sumatra from Theta Ridge Coffee that I roasted in my campus appartment at IUSB and brewed using my beloved Brikka.

Over the years, I’ve roasted a large variety of coffee beans. I typically buy a pound each of three or four varietals and experiment with them for a while.

Mostly because I’ve been moving around quite a bit, I’ve been buying green coffee beans from a rather large variety of places. I try to buy them locally, as much as possible (those beans have travelled far enough and I’ve had enough problems with courier companies). But I did participate in a few mail orders or got beans shipped to me for some reason or another. Sourcing green coffee beans has almost been part of my routine in those different places where I’ve been living since 2002: Moncton, Montreal, Fredericton, South Bend, Northampton, Brockton, Cambridge, and Austin. Off the top of my head, I’ve sourced beans from:

  1. Down East
  2. Toi, moi & café
  3. Brûlerie Saint-Denis
  4. Brûlerie des quatre vents
  5. Terra
  6. Theta Ridge
  7. Dean’s Beans
  8. Green Beanery
  9. Cuvée
  10. Fair Bean
  11. Sweet Maria’s
  12. Evergreen Coffee
  13. Mon café vert
  14. Café-Vrac
  15. Roastmasters
  16. Santropol

And probably a few other places, including this one place in Ethiopia where my friend Erin bought some.

So, over the years, I got beans from a rather large array of places and from a wide range of regional varietals.

I rapidly started blending freshly-roasted beans. Typically, I would start a blend by roasting three batches in a row. I would taste some as “single origin” (coffee made from a single bean varietal, usually from the same farm or estate), shortly after roasting. But, typically, I would mix my batches of freshly roasted coffee to produce a main blend. I would then add fresh batches after a few days to fine-tune the blend to satisfy my needs and enhance my “palate” (my ability to pick up different flavours and aromas).

Once the quantity of green beans in a particular bag would fall below an amount I can reasonably roast as a full batch (minimum around 100g), I would put those green beans in a pre-roast blend, typically in a specially-marked ziplock bag. Roasting this blend would usually be a way for me to add some complexity to my roasted blends.

And complexity I got. Lots of diverse flavours and aromas. Different things to “write home about.”

But I was obviously limited in what I could do with my poppers. The only real controls that I had in homeroasting, apart from blending, consisted in the bean quantity and roasting time. Ambient temperature was clearly a factor, but not one over which I was able to exercise much control. Especially since I frequently ended up roasting outside, so as to not incommodate people with fumes, noise, and chaff. The few homeroast batches which didn’t work probably failed because of low ambient temperature.

One reason I stuck with poppers for so long was that I had heard that dedicated roasters weren’t that durable. I’ve probably used three or four different hot air popcorn poppers, over the years. Eventually, they just stop working, when you use them for coffee beans. As I’d buy them at garage sales and Salvation Army stores for 3-4$, replacing them didn’t feel like such a financially difficult thing to do, though finding them could occasionally be a challenge. Money was also an issue. Though homeroasting was important for me, I wasn’t ready to pay around 200$ for an entry-level dedicated roaster. I was thinking about saving money for a Behmor 1600, which offers several advantages over other roasters. But I finally gave in and bought my i-Roast as a kind of holiday gift to myself.

One broad reason is that my financial situation has improved since I started a kind of partial professional reorientation (PPR). I have a blogpost in mind about this PPR, and I’ll probably write it soon. But this post isn’t about my PPR.

Although, the series of events which led to my purchase does relate to my PPR, somehow.

See, the beans I (indirectly) got from Roastmasters came from a friend who bought a Behmor to roast cocoa beans. The green coffee beans came with the roaster but my friend didn’t want to roast coffee in his brand new Behmor, to avoid the risk of coffee oils and flavours getting into his chocolate. My friend asked me to roast some of these beans for his housemates (he’s not that intensely into coffee, himself). When I went to drop some homeroasted coffee by the Station C co-working space where he spends some of his time, my friend was discussing a project with Duncan Moore, whom I had met a few times but with whom I had had few interactions. The three of us had what we considered a very fruitful yet very short conversation. Later on, I got to do a small but fun project with Duncan. And I decided to invest that money into coffee.

A homeroaster seemed like the most appropriate investment. The Behmor was still out of reach but the i-Roast seemed like a reasonable purchase. Especially if I could buy it used.

But I was also thinking about buying it new, as long as I could get it quickly. It took me several years to make a decision about this purchase but, once I made it, I wanted something as close to “instant gratification” as possible. In some ways, the i-Roast was my equivalent to Little Mrs Sommers‘s “pair of silk stockings.”

At the time, Mon café vert seemed like the only place where I could buy a new i-Roast. I tried several times to reach them to no avail. As I was in the Mile-End as I decided to make that purchase, I went to Caffè in Gamba, both to use the WiFi signal and to check if, by any chance, they might not have started selling roasters. They didn’t, of course, homeroasters isn’t mainstream enough. But, as I was there, I saw the Hario Ceramic Coffee Mill Skerton, a “hand-cranked” coffee grinder about which I had read some rather positive reviews.

For the past few years, I had been using a Bodum Antigua conical burr electric coffee grinder. This grinder was doing the job, but maybe because of “wear and tear,” it started taking a lot longer to grind a small amount of coffee. The grind took so long, at some points, that the grounds were warm to the touch and it seemed like the grinder’s motor was itself heating.

So I started dreaming about the Baratza Vario, a kind of prosumer electric grinder which seemed like the ideal machine for someone who uses diverse coffee making methods. The Vario is rather expensive and seemed like overkill, for my current coffee setup. But I was lusting over it and, yes, dreaming about it.

One day, maybe, I’ll be able to afford a Vario.

In the meantime, and more reasonably, I had been thinking about “Turkish-style mills.” A friend lent me a box-type manual mill at some point and I did find it produced a nice grind, but it wasn’t that convenient for me, partly because the coffee drops into a small drawer which rapidly gets full. A handmill seemed somehow more convenient and there are some generic models which are sold in different parts of the World, especially in the Arab World. So I got the impression that I might be able to find handmills locally and started looking for them all over the place, enquiring at diverse stores and asking friends who have used those mills in the past. Of course, they can be purchased online. But they end up being relatively expensive and my manual experience wasn’t so positive as to convince me to spend so much money on one.

The Skerton was another story. It was much more convenient than a box-type manual mill. And, at Gamba, it was inexpensive enough for me to purchase it on the spot. I don’t tend to do this very often so I did feel strange about such an impulse purchase. But I certainly don’t regret it.

Especially since it complements my other purchases.

So, going to the i-Roast.

Over the years, I had been looking for the i-Roast and Behmor at most of the obvious sites where one might buy used devices like these. eBay, Craig’s List, Kijiji… As a matter of fact, I had seen an i-Roast on one of these, but I was still hesitating. Not exactly sure why, but it probably had to do with the fact that these homeroasters aren’t necessarily that durable and I couldn’t see how old this particular i-Roast was.

I eventually called to find out, after taking my decision to get an i-Roast. Turns out that it’s still under warranty, is in great condition, and was being sold by a very interesting (and clearly trustworthy) alto singer who happens to sing with a friend of mine who is also a local beer homebrewer. The same day I bought the roaster, I went to the cocoa-roasting friend’s place and saw a Behmor for the first time. And I tasted some really nice homemade chocolate. And met other interesting people including a couple that I saw, again, while taking the bus after purchasing the roaster.

The series of coincidences in that whole situation impressed me in a sense of awe. Not out of some strange superstition or other folk belief. But different things are all neatly packaged in a way that most of my life isn’t. Nothing weird about this. The packaging is easy to explain and mostly comes from my own perception. The effect is still there that it all fits.

And the i-Roast 2 itself fits, too.

It’s clearly not the ultimate coffee geek’s ideal roaster. But I get the impression it could become so. In fact, one reason I hesitated to buy the i-Roast 2 is that I was wondering if Hearthware might be coming out with the i-Roast 3, in the not-so-distant future.

I’m guessing that Hearthware might be getting ready to release a new roaster. I’m using unreliable information, but it’s still an educated guess. So, apparently…

I could just imagine what the i-Roast 3 might be. As I’m likely to get, I have a number of crazy ideas.

One “killer feature” actually relates both to the differences between the i-Roast and i-Roast 2 as well as to the geek factor behind homeroasting: roast profiles as computer files. Yes, I know, it sounds crazy. And, somehow, it’s quite unlikely that Hearthware would add such a feature on an entry-level machine. But I seriously think it’d make the roaster much closer to a roasting geek’s ultimate machine.

For one thing, programming a roast profile on the i-Roast is notoriously awkward. Sure, you get used to it. But it’s clearly suboptimal. And one major improvement of the i-Roast 2 over the original i-Roast is that the original version didn’t maintain profiles if you unplugged it. The next step, in my mind, would be to have some way to transfer a profile from a computer to the roaster, say via a slot for SD cards or even a USB port.

What this would open isn’t only the convenience of saving profiles, but actually a way to share them with fellow homeroasters. Since a lot in geek culture has to do with sharing information, a neat effect could come out of shareable roast profiles. In fact, when I looked for example roast profiles, I found forum threads, guides, and incredibly elaborate experiments. Eventually, it might be possible to exchange roasting profiles relating to coffee beans from the same shipment and compare roasting. Given the well-known effects of getting a group of people using online tools to share information, this could greatly improve the state of homeroasting and even make it break out of the very small niche in which it currently sits.

Of course, there are many problems with that approach, including things as trivial as voltage differences as well as bigger issues such as noise levels:

But I’m still dreaming about such things.

In fact, I go a few steps further. A roaster which could somehow connect to a computer might also be used to track data about temperature and voltage. In my own experiments with the i-Roast 2, I’ve been logging temperatures at 15 second intervals along with information about roast profile, quantity of beans, etc. It may sound extreme but it already helped me achieve a result I wanted to achieve. And it’d be precisely the kind of information I would like to share with other homeroasters, eventually building a community of practice.

Nothing but geekness, of course. Shall the geek inherit the Earth?

First Myriade Session

Today’s main coffee event is the anxiously awaited Grand Opening of Café Myriade (1432 Mackay, Montreal, right by Concordia University’s Sir George William campus). I just did my first of certainly a good many coffee-savouring sessions, there.

As a disclaimer of sorts, I think of Anthony Benda as one of the main actors in Montreal’s coffee renaissance. Anthony’s the co-owner of Café Myriade. He also happens to be an espresso blogger. Chris Capell, Myriade’s manager and “espresso producer,” has become a good friend of mine, thanks in part to the Eastern Regional competition of the Canadian Barista Championship, back in June. Despite being friendly with some of the core members in the Myriade team, I still think I can judge Myriade drinks fairly and justly. I do want the café to succeed and there’s a slight bias involved, but I think my perspective on that café and its drinks is relatively unbiased.

So, a few notes on this first session at Myriade.

On Anthony’s recommendation, I started with the allongé.

The allongé was a thing of beauty. Myriade managed to craft a drink in continuity with the ristretto-to-double-espresso flavour axis. (Twitter)

What I mean is that this allongé (or “lungo“) was nothing like a watered down espresso. It wasn’t typical of Montréal’s allongés either. But that’s really not an issue. Those who would order an allongé at Brûlerie Saint-Denis, Aux Deux Marie, or even Café Dépôt (where I’ve been surprised to have flavourful allongés in the past) will enjoy Myriade’s allongé. At least, if they keep an open mind.

To my taste, Myriade’s allongé is pretty much what you would get if you “extrapolated” (in the mathematical sense) the curve from ristretto to a regular espresso (single or double). The difference in flavours and aromas between ristretto and regular espresso is not strictly linear. Some flavours are muted as some others become stronger. It also depends on a number of factors from the blend and the grind to the way it was pulled. The same could be said about this allongé from Myriade, compared to a regular espresso.

I then tried the sipping chocolate.

Myriade’s sipping chocolate is delicious as a dessert drink. Must work really well with pastry. (Tweet)

To be honest, it was on the sweet side, for me. Maybe my tastebuds weren’t ready for this but I’m used to bitter chocolate and this one was decidedly on the sweet side. In fact, I wouldn’t have called it bittersweet because the bitterness was really muted. My mention of this seemed to be surprising to Myriade’s other co-owner, Scott Rao. But I maintain that this was a sweet chocolate.

My favourite sipping chocolate in Montreal so far (and possibly my favourite chocolate drink ever) was from Juliette & Chocolat (1615 Saint-Denis). The last time I went to J&C was probably two years ago so they may have changed in the meantime. There are two types of chocolate drinks at J&C. IIRC, the “à l’ancienne” one is unsweetened and milkless. I distinctly remember having some very tasty sipping chocolate there and the taste I remember isn’t sweet, by any stretch of the imagination. Of course, I might be wrong. But I’m usually pretty accurate about these things. Myriade’s sipping chocolate wasn’t as sweet as mainstream hot chocolate, but it was definitely much sweeter than what I’ve had at Juliette & Chocolat.

I enjoyed Myriade’s sipping chocolate about as much as the one I’ve raved about, from Chocolats Privilège (7070 Henri-Julien). In Myriade’s case, it’s less about cost than about the diversity of experiences we can have at the same place.

Speaking of which, here’s my first tweet from Myriade, today:

Enjoying Myriade’s impressive array of high quality drinks: 1432 Mackay. (Tweet)

When I first heard about Anthony’s plans for a café, I was mostly thinking about espresso. Anthony Benda is a true espresso artist, and the fact that he was a finalist in the Canadian Barista Championship (for which I’ve been a judge) is a testament to Anthony’s passion for espresso.

But Myriade isn’t exclusively about espresso. In fact, it’s probably the place in town which has the widest variety of coffee options. IIRC, they do all the espresso drinks, from single shot to allongé, caffè latte to cappuccino. But they also do pour-over drip, French press, siphon, and Eva Solo Café Solo.

Speaking of the Eva Solo, it’s the one drink with which I’ve spent the longest time, today. It was the first time I had coffee brewed through this method. It’s similar to French press but still different. I’d have a hard time describing all the differences (having to do with the “bloom” as well as with the body and the size of solids floating in the cup) but I did enjoy this coffee very much.

My tweets about this cup. The coffee was made with single origin Cup of Excellence beans: Lot #24 from Miralvalle farm.

Miralvalle as Eva. Berries to lemon, bright and sweet, some cocoa, bit of raw almond, faint roasted hazelnut. (Tweet)

As it cools, this Eva Solo of Salvadorian Cup of Excellence Miralvalle tastes more like candied lemon zest. With some cocoa butter. (Tweet)

These descriptions are my own impressions, at this moment in time. I fully realize that they may not match other people’s experiences. I wasn’t carefully cupping this coffee nor was I trying to calibrate my descriptors with what would be expected. I was pulling a Gary V: I was simply saying what I got from the drink in front of me, with as few preset expectations as possible. It’s all part of my attitude toward hedonistic tasting (e.g. in my tasting notes about Cuvée Coffee Roasters’ Sumatra beans as Brikka).

Which wraps it up for my tweets about Myriade. Through Twitter’s search, I notice that James Golick also went to Myriade today. I don’t know Golick but I notice that he has also blogged his Myriade experience, along with Daniel Haran. Haven’t read their posts (actually, a single post forked on two blogs) but glancing at the text, it sounds like the three of us have a fair bit in common.

I should also say that Myriade has an impressive selection of high-quality teas and that I really enjoyed their Sencha when I’ve had the opportunity to try it (in a private tasting) a few days ago. I kept thinking about those very tasty baby clams that my then-wife had brought back from New Brunswick, a few years ago. The tea was still subtle and I’m assuming other people would not pick up this flavour nearly as strongly as I did (if at all). But I enjoyed those clams so much (and for such a long time) that my experience of that tea was enhanced through my prior sensory experiences.

Keeping with my RERO resolution, this is probably as long as I should make this post.

Tasting Notes: Cuvée Sumatra as Brikka

Some quick tasting notes taken on my iPod touch while drinking a cup of Brikka coffee made with triple-picked Sumatra Mandheling beans from Cuvée Coffee Roasters.

These notes aren’t meant as descriptions of the exact aromas and flavours I got from that cup. They’re more “analogical,” “impressionistic,” “inspired.” Kind of an “artist’s interpretation” of the cup instead of a careful organoleptic assessment. I personally don’t even trust my palate as much as some other people do. But my palate (and nose, especially) can make me have some of those pleasant experiences I so crave as an ethical hedonist.

The beans were already quite old. I did a few other Brikka pots with them in the past few days and some cup were very tasty. But this cup was the most interesting one so far. I think I was able to dial in the right grind for those beans at this point. Because of the way I “season” my Brikka, I think the quality of this cup can have a positive influence on my next cup.

Here goes…

  • Espresso-like
  • Cherry
  • Mole/cocoa
  • Complexity
  • Persistent
  • Less in flavours
  • Roasted hazelnut
  • Body
  • Refreshing chicoree finish
  • Bit meaty, broiled steak
  • Hershey chocolate syrup
  • Waffles
  • Spices (not quite cinnamon)
  • Faint grassy, herbal
  • Bit rugged (taste sensation)
  • Some watery corners despite body
  • Fleeting jasmine flower
  • Thin layer of char
  • Diner pepper shaker

Expérience du goût

Viens de finir une tasse d’un des cafés les plus complexes que j’aie bus jusqu’à maintenant. Pas parmi les meilleurs. Mais, vraiment, une expérience gustative particulière.

L’ai fait dans ma cafetière Brikka. Le mélange de café («Kamikaze») provenait de l’épicerie vrac du Marché Jean-Talon où ils vendent leurs cafés à 5$ la livre entre 9h et 10h. J’ai ajouté quelques grains qui me restaient d’un mélange italien que j’avais acheté au même endroit un peu plus tôt, histoire d’ajouter à la complexité. Ça semble avoir fonctionné.

La première gorgée de ce café était une explosion de saveurs. Pas toutes extrêmement agréables, mais assez impressionnantes dans le tableau d’ensemble. Diverses saveurs de caramel, depuis le dulce de leche jusqu’au sucre candi en passant par le “butterscotch” et le caramel mou. Un peu de saveur de brûlé. Une rondeur qu’on monterait aux nues dans un expresso mais qui est fréquente dans une cafetière moka. Du rôti, de l’amaretto, un arrière-goût de sécheresse. Une palette très foncée dans l’ensemble, mais une telle variété de saveurs que chaque gorgée se déroulait comme un histoire complète.

C’est ce genre d’expérience que je recherche. Pas «le meilleur café au monde». Mais le café qui vient me dire quelque-chose. C’est la même chose pour la musique ou pour les gens. Je ne cherche pas «le meilleur de chaque chose». J’aime la diversité, la variété, la complexité.

Brikka Notes

Brikka

26/1/05 8:10

108g water

5g grounds

96g coffee

26/1/05 8:25

96g water

6g grounds

85g coffee(26/1/05 8:30)

28/1/05 8:43

98g water

6g grounds

89g coffee

Too strong!

28/1/05 8:51

94g water

4g grounds

78g coffee

Still too strong!

29/1/05 10:21

77g water

7g grounds

35g additional water

100g coffee

29/1/05 12:46

109g water

6g grounds

42g added water

77g coffee, huge spill

29/1/05 12:57

29/1/05 15:17

95g water

6g grounds

36g added water

410-284g=124g coffee, small spill

29/1/05 15:29

31/1/05 8:10

112g water

8g grounds

42g added water

132g coffee plus small spill?

As if boiled

1/2/05 10:09

86g water

6g grounds

38g added water

97g coffee

1/2/05 10:19

1/2/05 18:43

92g water

8g grounds

23g added water

103g coffee

1/2/05 18:53

2/2/05 18:23

106g water

6g grounds

29g additional water

110g coffee

3/2/05 8:36

101g water

8g grounds

26g added

86g coffee +spill

3/2/05 8:50

3/2/05 12:18

105g water

6g grounds

31g add

huge spill

5/2/05 8:30

101g water

7g grounds

20g added

73g coffee spill

5/2/05 8:37

5/2/05 14:07

83g water

7g grounds

17g added

93g no spill

5/2/05 14:19

5/2/05 18:18

96g water

6g grounds

23g added

2g ginger

93g coffee

5/2/05 18:27

6/2/05 12:49

102g water

8g grounds

19g added

101g coffee (almost no spill when take right away)

6/2/05 13:01

6/2/05 17:12

96g water

5g grounds

13g added

91g coffee,took as was getting done

6/2/05 17:22

7/2/05 8:35

88g water

7g grounds

19g added

more heat

7/2/05 8:50 still more heat

7/2/05 8:51

90g coffee

no spill, off as ready

7/2/05 18:20

97g water

7g grounds

24g added

7/2/05 18:31

Comes up a bit

7/2/05 18:34

Taken off before

82g coffee

8/2/05 10:38

104g water

7g grounds

21g added

more heat,closed pot

102g coffee, some spill

8/2/05 10:46

10/2/05 9:06

90g water

7g grounds

17g added

+pot

285g water

10g grounds

31g added

12/2/05 12:19

100g water

8g grounds(coarse, mill weirdness, fresh batch)

20g added

100g coffee

12/2/05 12:32

good musky, some sweetness, bit “lighter roast” aroma/taste, some acidity, body fair

12/2/05 13:14

84g water

8g grounds(still coarse)

18g added

82g coffee

12/2/05 13:26

12/2/05 18:53

112g water

8g grounds(still coarse)

18g added

12/2/05 19:07

>heat

12/2/05 19:08

spill

13/2/05 11:56

85g water

9g grounds(fine)

13g added

bit > heat

13/2/05 12:08 turn up

76g coffee, right away

15/2/05 13:14

86g water

7g grounds

23g added

15/2/05 13:27

85g coffee

some spill

Moka Pot

30/1/05 16:41 (moka)

280g water

10g grounds

105g added water

327g coffee

full pot

30/1/05 16:59

31/1/05 8:37(moka)

288g water

11g grounds

79g added water

open pot

277g+(full cup)

full pot

31/1/05 8:53

1/2/05 10:27 (moka)

327g(?) water

9g grounds

56g added water

281g+ coffee(full cup)

50g remainder

5/2/05 8:52 (moka)

316g water

12g grounds

57g added

280g coffee plus(spills as pours)

34g more

kind of light but flavour

6/2/05 13:25

269g water

11g grounds

36g added

263g coffee. Long brew..

6/2/05 13:41

7/2/05 8:01(started before)

272g water

11g grounds

60g added

264g coffee

long brew

7/2/05 8:12

7/2/05 21:20 (moka)

308g water

10g grounds

35g added

>heat

7/2/05 21:30

267+25g coffee(full cup)