Alton Brown And A Pound Of Coffee

Before we get to AB, as he’s known, and the caffeine, some prologue is in order.

I really like coffee. Don’t tell me that McDonald’s makes good coffee. Don’t tell me that any diner, restaurant, fine or basic, makes good coffee.

I drank drek for years. Taste, OK, caffeine, oh yes.

When I was a partner at a pretty fancy law firm, one of the best things about my office was that it was about twenty feet from the kitchen. Yes, a kitchen. Not a break room. Not only did we have a real live kitchen; but, next door, off the lobby we had a wet bar that opened on to the lobby for events. Without talking about leather, mahogany, oak and artwork, you have an idea of why lawyers cost so much. (So as to differentiate, King & Spalding, a white stocking firm here in town, lives next door to a Ritz Carlton hotel downtown. Its lawyers can place an order from the kitchen of the hotel for lunch.)

So, back then I drank drek. It was close, and it was an excuse not to continue doing what I was being paid to do. As coffee goes, it wasn’t bad, every bit the equal of a restaurant.

One day, the office manager bought or rented an amazing machine to replace the coffee station. You picked your own flavor of coffee from a rack. The coffee was in a little plastic “shot cup” which you put into a hole in the machine. The machine punched a hole in the top and bottom and shot hot water though it and into your cup. Not yet real live coffee, but very close.

I lived in Miami for most of the Eighties. Café Cubano. While in law school, I was a clerk (intern) at a small law firm downtown. As the newbie, one of my duties when getting off the train was to stop and get the stuff. Every block in downtown Miami has a storefront that sells it. All you have to do is hold up a finger and say “uno.” A real barista would do things with the machine and give you a Styrofoam cup that had espresso, sugar and infused milk in it, Café Cubano. With it you got a few plastic shot cups. Warning, unless your Mothers Milk came with sugar and caffeine, a little shot cup is all the caffeine you need for a four or five hour period. Drugs have their attractions, but they aren’t the equal of this wonderful way to start the day.

Big Tony, who I’ve mentioned in a previous post, is Cuban. Tony introduced me to homemade espresso. Not at all hard to do despite what you see on TV and see at Starbucks or Caribou. All it takes is a little pot metal thingy that has a water reservoir at the bottom and a tube running up from it to bubble over the grind above it. A baby percolator. Add some sugar and hot milk, or skip the milk, and you have a kick ass shot or two of espresso. One more very important element, use Bustelo coffee. It makes a big difference.

We aren’t to Alton Brown yet, nor to the pound of coffee. Patience.

When I left the fancy law firm, one of my vows was to cut down on the eight or ten cups of coffee that I drank each day. One of the few vows I’ve kept in my life. Here’s how I did it. There is no mechanism for making coffee in my office. But, modern existence does require a caffeine infusion shortly after waking up. Mine comes, don’t boo or hiss, by way of QuikTrip, a convenience store/gas station chain in the Southeast. A big cup of Columbian or French blend is about a dollar and it is as close to real coffee as you are going to get short of paying way too much at Starbucks or Caribou.

We are getting close to AB and the pound.

On the weekend, starting the day requires a paper, not online, newspaper and coffee. I used to supply the latter part with a Mr. Coffee; but, a few years back, I bought a coffee press and started buying real live coffee beans. What I buy varies. Colombian. French Roast. Mostly though, Millstone or Starbucks. Good but still not what should be.

OK. Here we start with Mr. Brown and the pound of coffee.

I TiVo Good Eats, Alton’s show on the Food Network. This last week he did a show on espresso. I won’t go into the whole thing; but, he, if you didn’t know, lives and films in Atlanta. He did a segment in the espresso show about buying the right beans at a place called Cool Beans in Marietta.

This morning, after reading the paper and drinking some Colombian coffee, I decided to check out Cool Beans. (Fermi, it’s just off the Square in Marietta.) Cool Beans is a smaller, funkier and better Starbucks or Caribou. It has about 25 or 30 types of beans for sale. I perused. Some were the typical Colombian, French Roast, Kona. I saw “Jamaican Blue Mountain.” I’d heard of Jamaican and Blue Mountain and decided to get a pound. The barista weighed it out as I pulled out a credit card. “That will be $39.00.”

I am not poor or a cheapskate; but, I’m not a spendthrift. I had in my subconscious head a number in the high teens. Think about this with me.

I couldn’t just say never mind. Some manly thing I guess. So I had this very nice blue bag of coffee that had hand written on it “Jam. Bl. Mtn.”

I came across Tony this afternoon and told him about my purchase. He suggested that the price might include a “happy ending.” My thought was that it had an ounce of grass nestled in the middle. We both agreed that it better be pretty good tomorrow morning.

Alton, well I’ll just wait till after the tasting.