Date: January 22, 2010 @ 8:42 AM
Espresso
Maybe you are like me, and you like coffee but don’t know that much about it. People who are “into” coffee are as crazy about their subject as wine geeks are about what we make (wine). The coffee master studies it and knows: who makes it, where it is grown, how it is roasted, stored, brewed, (if the water was blessed by virgins), was it organic, the fiber count on the burlap bags, etc… It has come a long way from the days of “good to the last drop” advertisements that showed a percolator bubbling away on the stove.
I hate it when snobbery overtakes the fun of wine and makes some people feel belittled. I was stunned to find that snobbery is happening in coffee and that I may have to pretend to know more just to be allowed to converse with the staff and shop at a hot new coffee place in Napa. It gave me a personal Rodney Dangerfield moment; “I get no respect.”
The people in this place are really “into” coffee. There are some trendy cool names for their beans that come from carefully selected countries and maybe even single plantations – the ideas of terroir in your brew instead of your wine. I love the idea of that sort of connection to the agriculture and the attention to detail.
However, beware and come prepared when you plan to order. I met “Mr Barista” who doesn’t suffer the ignorant coffee drinker lightly. The common tastes of people like me may be too mundane for him. I made the mistake of asking to buy some beans that were related to “Italian Espresso” only to have him look down his nose and say, “I don’t know what that means.”
Not realizing that I was the one who had created the faux pas, I waded in deeper and tried to explain by saying, “er, I was thinking of something with a darker and deeper roasted character.” I thought that sounded fairly respectable and at least I didn’t quote “LA Story” and ask for a half caff, double decaf capp with a twist…
That was answered with even more complete showing of disdain. “We don’t do dark roast…so you can actually taste the coffee.” I almost expected to have him offer to whack me in the head with a pound of organic beans to punctuate the seriousness of my transgression.
OK – It was obvious that I hadn’t passed the test to be fit to drink their coffee, but nevertheless, I ordered a bag of beans. (They were the ones closest to me so that I wouldn’t make too many more transgressions.)
I learned that what I had been drinking and liking for years wasn’t really coffee and that I should be impressed by the coffee knowledge of someone who has an incredible knack for being rude. Now what? Do I stick with coffee? Do I switch to tea, Coke, water? Do I enroll in a remedial coffee course? Do I seek extensive self-help therapy? I don’t want to have coffee drinking be that complicated – I just want it to taste good.
Why talk about a semi-humorous and completely pathetic example of customer service run amok at a coffee place aspiring to excellence? I fear that it reflects too many peoples’ experience with wine served in restaurants, at wine events and even at wineries. It doesn’t have to be snooty, pretentious, patronizing, or mysterious in order to be seriously good. Each of us that love wine can share it in an open and helpful way. My latest coffee shopping experience made it painfully clear that snobbery is a major turn off.
