… in coffee, people!
I have been thinking about ‘body’ in coffee - both espresso and brewed - a fair bit lately. I find it rather difficult to pin down, and I often feel as though I use descriptors that are not necessarily appropriate.
I read a rather interesting article on body and corpo in espresso last night, and have been pondering an experiment to help me get my head around it all. I’m thinking a whole variety of coffees, several grinders (to make life a little easier), nose-clips, some slightly coffee-obsessive friends, and a gun barista who can pull super consistent shots … hmm … evaluate both espresso coffee and cupping traditionally.
Will it achieve anything? Dunno, but it seems like fun …
Just found a mouthfeel wheel for red wine that I need to have a good look at as well …
Hmm …. body … corpo … mouthfeel … texture …
Ahhh …
Whilst the kids had their nap this afternoon, I managed to get an hour by myself to swim, lie in the sun, and watch the clouds and dragonflies. It’s such a lovely day … think I might make a habit of doing this when I can. Maybe I’ll take a book down there with me as well.
Incidentally, has anyone else noticed that lady beetles are in plague proportions at the moment 
I fished about a dozen out of the pool!
Hit up the Talk Coffee Sydney/Cuppacoffee opening today.
Drank way too many espressi on an empty stomach. Nearly passed out earlier this arvo. Had some muesli and some Rooibis and am feeling a bit better, though I’m just exhausted now.
Played with some awesome bling, both machines and grinders; definitely got the K10 on my wishlist now.
Had my Giotto tweaked - sweet thermostability upgrade. Can’t handle the thought of drinking any more ’spro today, so will have to report on that later.
Also had one of the nicest espressi I’ve had in ages courtesy of Dan and a Diadema Mmmm … syrupy …
I love being a mum. Really I do. But it has it’s moments. And today I experienced two moments that were filled with panic and hysteria and I’m pretty much spent now.
The first occurred this morning. I put on my last few hundred grams of MTE Bin 549, and the kids were playing outside right beside me. I turned my back on Anastasia for a few minutes to talk to Ezekiel, and quick as a flash she was gone. I was beside myself, yelling and screaming her name, but she didn’t answer. Praise God, within a minute or so I heard my mother calling out that she was upstairs playing with the cat (we live in a duplex underneath my parents’ house). They’d heard her talking to Mitten, heard me screaming for Anastasia, and quickly realised what had happened. Thankfully, we live in an exceptionally quiet cul-de-sac with little traffic. I’ve spent the rest of the afternoon being worked up over the ‘coulda, shoulda, woulda’ factor, and feeling very stressed and guilty.
Then, this evening, Zeke was up after Anastasia had gone to bed and was demanding more food. Somehow he managed to get a piece of pizza dough stuck in his throat and started choking. He was going blue and I panicked. Fortunately, Andrew kept his head, grabbed him, swatted him between the shoulder blades, and then stuck his finger into the little guy’s mouth and pulled out the obstruction. By this time, Ezekiel was a terrifying shdae of grey, and seemed to pass out, locking his teeth around to Drew’s finger. I was halfway towards the phone to call an ambulance when Zeke regained consciousness and started crying. I’ve never been happier to hear that noise in my life.
After five days without my Giotto, he’s been restored to the gaping hole on my kitchen bench. I’m looking forward to having a play this morning.
Can I just say that in an ironic twist, my filter and syphon let me down spectacularly in his absence. They produce delightful brews when I’m spoilt for choice, but when I must depend on them … pfft!
Well, actually I think I also had a shocker on the roasting side of things. Perhaps I can blame this unruly weather … or perhaps I just wasn’t paying enough attention …
If you’re one of my male readers then I need to issue you with a warning: chick-ish flip out follows. (Actually, are there any girls out there?)
I’m an ex-gymnast. I spent most of my teenage years running around in a leotard or a wetsuit (I’m also a sailor. A slight digression: that’s the thing about sailing, it’s in your blood, so whilst i say I was a gymnast, I continue to say I am a sailor, even though it’s been far too long since I hit the water). Last night my mum pulled out some footage of our 1998 gymnastics display. It was a bit of a shock.
My body weight has increased by around 50% in ten years. I weighed 42kg in 1998. Now, believe me, I have no desire to return to that weight range. I seriously looked ridiculous. Which is bizarre, because I never thought I was skinny at the time.
I currently weigh the same as I did when I got married, and before Anastasia was born. I fluctuate between being quite content and wanting to lose around five kilos. Some days I get really bothered by my reflection, other days, I seriously couldn’t care less. I frustrate myself that I’m even thinking about all this. /end flipout.
Luca made this comment recently in discussion on a post he had made that touched on Fair/Direct Trade: “If you listen to George Howell’s interview on the CG podcast, he is adamant that he is going to put the name of the farm/farmer on each bag because, as he puts it, you can’t imagine how important that is to them.” I was reflecting on this today as I drove to and from Di Bartoli.
I was wondering, given this huge push we’re seeing for ethically traded coffee (and yes, I could compose a very long entry about the merits of the various forms that may take, but I’m not going to … yet), about the ethics of espresso. This probably isn’t an original thought, and people who are more involved in the industry may roll their eyes at my being slow on the uptake at this point …
Anyway, I was contemplating the ethics of serving rubbish espresso. I mean, obviously, there’s the “how-dare-you-charge-me-some-of my-hard-earned-for-this-utter-swill” ethical issue; but that’s not exactly what I have in mind (Though it does really, really irk me).
I’m thinking more along the lines of doing justice to the product. If we’re going to (rightly, I think) jump up and down about paying farmers a fair wage, about sustainable farming practices and so on and so forth, then I can’t see how the ethical cafe owner, or barista, can, in good conscience, serve up swill with the product. It just seems wrong. I’m thinking especially of cafes that are advertising that they use ‘Fair Trade’ coffee. If you’re going to tell everyone how wonderfully ethically-minded you are, have the courtesy to do those farmers justice and produce an exceptional cup of coffee with the beans they supply you with.
Hmm .. there’s more to be said about this …
What do you think?
I’m on sabbatical from espresso.
My Giotto is now in the care of Dr. Renzo, getting a few seals replaced and a general once over; so I’m taking the opportunity to do some syphon and filter experimentation. The filter brew I made just a little while ago was terrible. I had to stop mid pour to help Drew dish out dinner, consequently, the El Salvie El Angel was bitter and over-extracted. Very disappointing.
A shame, as the same beans yesterday produced a lovely chocolate-and-lemon cup through the Hario.
“Mum, don’t talk angry; you need to talk properly.”
She was quite insistent that the tag had to go at the front …
