California Coffee Ramble

OK, here is a pretty disjointed set of observations from Los Angeles. Unfortunately, I have returned home to a multitude of obligations that require immediate attention so this post received hardly any editing at all. What follows is pretty much how it came into my head ...

I landed on Wednesday evening and grabbed a rental car. I had directions to my hotel. I had a GPS receiver. Nothing could go wrong except Los Angeles. And boy did it. I won't bore you with the details but to say that there is a freeway known as the 405 and it is ugly.

Thursday morning I managed to find the Intelli in Venice and see an old friend. He pulled for me the first shot of 'sanctioned' Black Cat I've ever had. It was different in flavor but not in character from the Toscano we use at the shop. Less chocolate, different fruit. I suspect the differences had to do as much with the dosage and water temperature as with the coffees in the blend. Ah, blends.

Their menu changed daily, which meant that their single origin espresso, brewed and iced coffees rotated. Their method for brewed coffee was pour over, weighing the water and pre-infusing for a minute before pouring. No stir. Little circles.

One of the interesting aspects to the pricing is that what you pay for has only tangentially anything to do with the coffee. What you pay for is the technique and the time it takes to prepare. Example: While there I had a double espresso of the Kenya Thiriku espresso. It was the single origin of the day they were pulling. It was a cup full of blackberries and a jammy sweetness that at $3.50 (if I recall correctly) was not unreasonably priced. However, the next time I was in, that same Thiriku was a brewed coffee and cost $8. The difference in dosage was about eight or nine grams so that could not account for the difference in pricing. Adding in a to go cup and sugar and cream (if one was to want such things) would still not increase the price substantially. So you are paying for labor and expertise.

Now, you might think that I'm somehow put off by this and I would have been if the professionalism had not been there or the final product had been underwhelming. But I can say with utter humility that Intelli Venice was the most efficient, professional, impressive coffee preparing establishment I've ever been inside. Even the atmosphere, which I had expected to be cold and sterile from all the photos and descriptions I've heard, was educating. It was a bright and sunny factory for manufacturing amazing espresso and coffee. Every espresso I was served was prefaced with a test espresso by the barista to make sure the taste was where they wanted it. I never ordered a milk-based drink but from what I saw every one was properly prepared, with competent latte art. The baristas were encouraged to talk to customers and prepare drinks at the same time. They never looked flustered or like they were rushing. But they were hustling.

It was not a "coffee shop:" no homey couches, tables, art on the walls, disorganized bric-a-brac on the bar and in the corners, no impulse merchandise like chocolate or gum. But the lack of all that opens a way to rethink coffee. You don't come there for any other reason than the coffee. There's nothing else there to attract you. No reason to wait in line for a muffin and cheap real estate or internet access. There's alway a danger of turning coffee into a talisman connoting status, especially so in a place that does it's job so very well but everyone behind the bar at least was approachable. There was no exclusion except by the customer's own choice. You took away as much or as little as you wanted and the fact that it was all so inviting - to look at, to taste, to talk about - I came away fairly disarmed. People will come away from this particular shop excited about coffee. Perhaps about the shop itself. Likely about some of the employees but definitely about the coffee.

And unlike most "coffee shops" there was a line several people deep all day long.

As the owner of my own shop, Intelli Venice is a the kind of place you leave feeling inspired or despondent or, more than likely, a little of both.

Thankfully, (for my ego at least) there was another shop in town that didn't live up to the hype.

But that is another story.

Sorry for the ramble. I'll try to be a little coherent next time.