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.
