Archive for the 'millenium park' Category

Events: Photos from the Fall Cookie Competition

Photos by Danielle Baumann

Every season, there’s an in-house throwdown competition, but if you’ve been reading this blog, you’re well aware. This fall, the comp was held at Broadway, and also included a siphon-pot brewing contest as well. Nicole Kirk from Broadway won the latte art throwdown, and yours truly just barely squeaked out a win in the siphon comp. Instead of a full wrap-up post, today we’re going to tell the story in images from Millenium Park’s Danielle Baumann.

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Pouring montage!

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The judges table.

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Sampling siphon brews.

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Tension.

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The champion and her new championship belt.

In Store Offering: The Pour Over Brew Bar

The prewet/bloom: a small amount of water is added and let rest for 30-45 seconds to help release trapped CO2, as well as open up the coffee and prime it for extraction.

The prewet/bloom: a small amount of water is added and let rest for 30-45 seconds to help release trapped CO2, as well as open up the coffee and prime it for extraction.

There are many loyalists who take a firm stance on either using filtered or unfiltered brew methods. Both sides have many valid points, and that’s why I usually spend my time brewing both through the Chemex and Cafe Solo. Being a filtered method is only one of the differences between brewing through the Clover and the pour over drip bar using Hario drip cones that Millenium Park switched to a few weeks ago for the Pick of the Day.

Regardless, there are three main reasons I like to cite when asked why we switched over to the pour over brew bar from the Clover.

The first is accessibility — the pour over method is not only easy to understand, it’s easy to replicate. If a customer really enjoys the cup we made at the store, they can purchase the same equipment as well as the same coffee and make it at home if they wanted to. Plus, it’s an easy system to understand. If you order a coffee, you can see the water go in the top, and the coffee to come out the bottom. And if you’re tall enough, you can even see into the filter to watch it brew (admittedly, the top row of drip cones are a bit tall for some or our baristas to pour).

Starting the pour: an ideal pour moves in a circular motion, focusing on the center of the cone, at a medium pour speed.

Starting the pour: an ideal pour moves in a circular motion, focusing on the center of the cone, at a medium pour speed.

The second is manual control — the Clover machine is an amazing triumph of technology that yields an amazing cup of coffee; that’s why we’re keeping one around to offer additional coffees. But the one thing the Clover doesn’t offer is direct control over extraction. With the brew bar, we can control the rate of

A close up of the pour.

A close up of the pour: the pronounced spout on this kettle helps us get the water to go exactly where we want it to.

extraction by how fast or slow we pour, and are able to adjust on the fly. The brew bar also brings the focus back to the coffee instead of the technology of the brew method. You don’t have to coax different intricate flavor profiles out of the coffee; it does the work itself with a slight assist from gravity and your pouring speed.

Finally, I just like how personal each cup is. It brings a bit of gravitas to coffee making. There’s a science behind it, sure, but like making an espresso drink, there’s also a bit of an art to it — each cup is an individual creation prepared by the barista (with the help of a grinder and a temperature controlled water heater). Not only that, but it helped eliminate a barrier between the person working the brew bar and the customer. You no longer have to talk over a row of machines, and since pouring requires your attention, you have the chance to stand around a bit more and chat with the customers.

Like a row of linebackers, amirite?  No, seriously, I know nothing of sports.

Like a row of linebackers, amirite? No, seriously, I know nothing of sports.

It’s still a work in progress, even though the cat’s out of the bag. We’ve been promised a more functional brew array (at a shorter height!) and amazing technological additions (mainly just a drain built into the drip tray so we don’t have to manually dump it anymore). But no matter what changes occur, the glory of the brew bar is that the essential function won’t change: coffee grounds, hot water, drip drip pour.

What’s Good?: Cappuccino

Our baristas all have a favorite of the moment; What’s Good? hopes to get the word out about what we’re all drinking.  This installment comes from Jeff Batchelder at Millenium Park, and shows that sthe best offerings are sometimes those that are the most basic, comforting, and delicious.

That's a darn good cappuccnio.

That's a darn good cappuccnio.

I like a cappuccino because it’s the perfect amount of milk to espresso to foam ratio. There is enough volume to a cappuccino to spend a few minutes drinking it without sacrificing the quality of the drink. It also should be made to the temperature that opens up the sweetness of the milk but also where you can drink it immediately if you want to. A well-made cappuccino requires more skill and attention than you would initially guess to come out just right, so when I go to a new coffee shop, I’ll sometimes order one to size up the place.

There you have it folks, straight from the barista’s mouth. And, for good measure, a few shots straight from the barista’s pour.

Here it comes...

Here it comes...

And boom goes the dynamite.

And boom goes the dynamite.

New In Store: New Keyna Magic

Photos by Danielle Bauman

The rundown.

The rundown.

I’ve heard that there’s still a sizable amount of people who wait every year for the McRib to come back. Though I’ve been a vegetarian for five years now, I can understand the sentiment. I wait around half the year for Africa coffees to come into season, and we just had three great Kenya coffees come in: Gichathaini, Ndaroini, and Thiriku.

The Gichathaini, some have said, tastes like a big steak covered in strawberries when brewed through a Cafe Solo. Personally, I like to brew it through the Chemex — clean, savory notes with dried apricots and fresh cedar aromatics. The Ndaroini is a bit softer, but no less intense: baked pears and ripe plums, light floral notes and Middle Eastern spices. Both coffee have a great buttery mouthfeel and a great rounded body, but it’s the Thiriku that’s the star of the crop. The cup has an almost sparkling acidity with a tropical fruit sweetness, only to finish with an explosion of complexity that touches on spice, floral, sweet and savory notes at the same time until it hits with a pristine finish. Canned peaches, fruit snacks, middle eastern spices — it’s a coffee that never wants to quit.

These two found each other using an Internet dating service.

These two found each other using an Internet dating service.

While these flavor profiles might seem off-putting to some people, they really are coffees you have to taste to believe the complexity that occurs in the cup. That’s why we’re now offering the Thiriku as a 16 ounce Chemex or 24 ounce Cafe Solo at the Millenium Park store.

Kenya coffees allow for much longer fermentation that other growing regions due to the higher

I bet you've never seen a bag this close up before.

I bet you've never seen a bag this close up before.

altitude, and are dried on long, elevated screens instead of on cement patios — these and other post-harvest handling practices help develop the intense flavors, showcasing the extra care taken on the farming level.

Offering the Thiriku as only a Chemex or Cafe Solo is our tribute to these intensive growing practices. Sure it might take a little more time and energy to prepare, but the end result is worth it.

Testimonials: The hot chocolate incident

But what is it really?

But what is it really?

On Thursday, a customer approached the bar after taking a few sips of her latte. She looked a bit concerned.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “But I think I accidentally took someone’s hot chocolate. I mean, it’s delicious and I’ve been enjoying it, but I didn’t want to take someone else’s drink.”

After we checked around, we figured that no one had ordered a hot chocolate, so she did indeed get the skim latte that she had ordered. She thanked us for clearing that up, and then went back to enjoying her drink.

It didn’t dawn on me until later that she must not have ever had one of our lattes before, and that it was so rich, delicious, and sweet just from the milk and espresso that she had figured it possibly was a hot chocolate.

We’ll take that as a compliment.

What’s Good?: Cold Brewed Purple Jade Oolong

Our baristas all have a favorite of the moment; What’s Good? hopes to get the word out about what we’re all drinking. This installment comes from Goodrich at the Millenium Park location.

He looks so happy with that cold brewed Purple Jade Oolong!

Goodrich looks so happy with that cold brewed Purple Jade Oolong!

Cold Brewed Purple Jade Oolong

I stopped drinking about five months ago (DON’T JUDGE ME!). So I didn’t think I’d taste hops ever again. Then I cold brewed this tea. Blam! Sweet, honey hops like I had never even tasted in my favorite IPA.

There you have it folks. A ringing endorsement of the Hario Iced Teapot.  If you ever see Goodrich at the Millenium Park store, ask him about cold brewing through one of these babies, and he’ll set you up so you can create the results at home!

Stray Thoughts: Meditations on Coffee Writing

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A distinct pour, concentric, and technical.

Back when I first starting writing about music, I read a biography about Lester Bangs and came up with a quote where he talked about music and writing. I don’t remember it word for word, but the gist of was that there was nothing more exhilarating than staying up all night listening to music and feverishly writing about it.

Well, when I did stay up all night, it was mainly to play videogames or to watch bad TV. But I understood the sentiment. There’s something awfully romantic about scratching away at a typewriter while experiencing something and directly translating those emotions into words as a way of helping others achieve the same experience. Good music writing should be like listening to a guided museum tour through headphones while sitting in your basement: you should know what it’s all about, have a good amount of background information, but a part of you should be just dying to experience it yourself.

I was recently thinking about whether this applied to coffee as well. Did reading coffee writing really help my experience it better? Is this blog worth maintaining?

My thoughts drifted back four years ago when I lived in Lakeview and went to the Broadway store from time to time. My co-worker at the record store I worked at told me I was dumb for always getting a French Roast all the time because there was a whole world of coffee I wasn’t experiencing. He suggested an African coffee. After buying a bag of Sumatra (and a lesson in geography), I came upon a bag of Ethiopia Yergecheffe.

I was sipping at a cup that I had just made from a french press, and I got an extremely distinct flavor coming through. I wasn’t sure what it was, and so I checked the bag: “melon rind finish” was one of the descriptors and it was exactly what I was getting.

And while a simple, descriptive sentence isn’t exactly a three page diagnostic thesis on the coffee, it perfectly described what I had experienced, and put it into words I could not find myself. Maybe there is something to coffee writing.

The Lab: Syphoning the Finca Matalapa

Best fwends!

Best fwends!

One of the things I love about working here is the constant experimentation. When I first started, Charles ran Juliet and Curtis and I through a quick training of all the different brewing methods we had.  He said two things about the syphon pot that I consistently remember: the first being that syphon coffee has a distinct rhythm to it, and that it tends to bring out a lot of sweetness in washed Central or South American coffees in which it isn’t immediately apparent.

The rhythm was very apparent. On the first sip, after the coffee cooled a bit, you could feel it rolling on your tongue. The body almost pulsed in perfect time with the acidity. But as to whether or not Charles was blowing smoke up my behind about the sweetness, well, I wasn’t sure.

When we first got the Los Inmortales, El Salvador Finca Matalapa in, the first time I tried it was as a single origin espresso macchiato. Rachel, who was on bar, warned me that to her it was very savory and almost tasted like marinara sauce. As a macchiato, it was a bit like a spaghetti dinner. On the cupping table, the Matalapa had tones of fresh hay, herbs, and a bit of an earthy, full body.

So when Goodrich wanted to try the Matalapa five different ways (Cafe Solo, syphon pot, Chemex, cupped, and, uh, Aeropress) in our “lab” (see: Pedway storefront), we were knocked on our bottoms (the same bottoms up which Charles had apparently not blown smoke). On the syphon, the Matalapa was like drinking a dark, rich cup of honey. The syphon pot had brought out the sweetness in a washed Central or South American coffee that wasn’t before apparent.

It was quite the revelation, and since then, it’s given me a flavor profile to shoot for when dialing in the Matalapa on the Clover.

As for the Aeropress, well, neither Goodrich nor I really knew how to use it. But in our defense, it’s made by a frisbee company and we lost the directions a long time ago.