Working at a variety of different cafes in both Milwaukee and Atlanta, I have seen a myriad of styles and methods behind preparing drinks. Each style and method are very personal to the barista in question, and therefore, those methods become a law to him or her, intimately attached to his or her own being. While I understand that feeling, I find so often that this attitude toward beverage preparation can be a real hindrance to the standardization of coffee across the globe. If you order a cappuccino in Frankfurt, Germany, for instance, will you receive that exact recipe once you order in Portland, Oregon? Maybe you wouldn’t. Although many might find this kind of diversity quite alluring, a lack of standardization promotes a lack of fastidiousness not only toward coffee preparation, but even in other areas of service and cafe maintenance; therefore, I would like to offer a bit of resolution.
If you have ever ordered a cappuccino before, you may take note of the primary feature: a substantial layer of foam riding the surface. Having a clear vessel will even more clearly evidence this point. I would like to congratulate you on your result: you have received what you paid for. Unlike a latte, which consists of approximately 1/4 espresso, 5/8 steamed milk, and 1/8 foam, a cappuccino revels in its reputation as a foamy beverage. Despite these quintessential characteristics, however, the success of a cappuccino in achieving such a ratio depends on a few nuances.
To some people, terms are just labels and categories ascribed to ideas, shackling them to one person’s point of view and thus limiting their greater potential. As limiting as these words may be, they also preserve the foundation upon which new discoveries are built. Remove the foundation, and be certain that the potential energy of everything above it will result in catastrophe. We can glean from experience and learn from the past. That is why I feel the need, at least with regard to cappuccinos, for laying down the law.
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The rest, as they say, is history. As Europe began embarking upon the age of exploration, coffee proponents sought more environments to cultivate the coveted cash crop. Thus, when you analyze the discrepancy between when coffee was discovered by Europeans and its introduction to soil foreign to Africa (Java and Suriname by the Dutch), one can clearly infer that any accreditation to Ethiopians or other mainland-Africans never reached the pubic. In fact, the majority of European coffee houses in the 17th century were modeled after those produced by the Ottomans. Interesting to see that the Arabs, not the Europeans, are primarily responsible for the propagation and commercialization of the globe’s current number two export.
Of course, when we call coffee a number two export, we cannot include Africa in that number, even today. The first African country that appears on the list of countries by coffee export is Ethiopia. There are four European countries that appear on that list even before Ethiopia, which appears as number eleven. Coffee is Ethiopia’s highest export! Does coffee even grow in Europe? At the end of the day, African coffee just tastes better. Feel free to argue with me about that. But unless you try for yourselves, I cannot consider you qualified to make an experienced decision. Feel free to go to our online store to begin your journey!  More and more today, educated and uneducated Americans alike utilize language in order to evoke reaction and develop momentum on particular issues. Whether it has to do with the political arena or an environmental difficulty, a “trigger” word can provide one with the heat needed to get the locomotive moving. That may very well happen in the political realm; however, when we talk about coffee, can we adequately remove every preconception we have regarding the political or environmental from our view on how coffee “ought” to be produced? Can we help but apply our preconception?
Traditionally, the word “process” has come to mean “to perform a series of mechanical or chemical operations on (something) in order to change or preserve it.” This definition, in and of itself, does not make the word controversial. The term, however, has become loaded with historical significance. Just read Upton Sinclair’s take on meat factories in the early 20th century. Especially as a gerund, the word “processed” implies a “series of sinister operations applied to a consumable by a insidious elite with a malevolent intent” (pardon the emphasis.) No doubt this has been popularized by TV and film production. If it weren’t, I doubt you could withhold your inclination to peer over the counter at Taco Bell and watch them prepare your taco meat (I guarantee you had an ‘amen’ in your being. Admit it!). If we, however, had a proper understanding a “process,” recognizing that on the one hand, it is used sometimes as a means to inflict harm on people, but, in general, they preexist human development and form some of the building blocks of our environment. Can we, however, on a personal level, really pierce to the dividing of great processes, like assembly line manufacturing of pickup trucks, to small processes, like those relating to cooking raw meat or proper food handling, according to our preconception, without contradiction? We have to be careful what we take in. Without a doubt. However, how often are we throwing the baby out with the bath water? Not only so, but in our supposed “exposing” of sinister plots, what solutions are we providing for individuals who are in dire need of ground to stand, and not only so, but a home in which to dwell? Human needs, one could argue, are not complicated. However, sustaining human life in an increasingly hostile and confusing age certainly is. Systems, or processes, are not the goal. They are merely a procedure. But without a goal, the means becomes the ends. This is the subtlety. This is the frightening tendency of the human mind. How wary we need to be. As a company, Sojourner does not exist for the sole purpose of recreating preexisting systems. Profits and net revenue in and of themselves corrupt. The goal is education. If you are bent upon drinking the same cup of first wave coffee with 10% robusta and caffeine levels that allow you to survive your third hour lecture or mid-morning business meeting, certainly the process you are subject to has a sinister intent. It is merely dependency. You have ultimately conceded to the false notion that “coffee” is a taste in and of itself, and the sacrifice of flavor justifies your sugary incorporation. Not only are you subject to one and now two processes (interdependence of creamer industry on first wave coffee), but also to the “American runs on...” web of time usurpation. The end justifies the means. Marketing much? Of course. If you have the remedy, why withhold it? African Compilation coffee boxes exist for the purpose of educating YOU that certain processes exist to bring out pre-existing conditions. Otherwise Gordon Ramsay would be out of a job. Our coffees are picked specifically with the understanding that their native soil creates a foundation for the basest processes to succeed in producing a base product. But how credible would we be if we left you to die on that hill? It’s also a process to finish the argument. How about the roast? Are the beans no equivalent to an ash heap? And what kind of brewing method do you apply? Our goal is not the process, but to ensure that the consistency of the process brings you to the realization that processes exist for a reason. Of course the reason is an experience. And you cannot experience without the right product. And without the right product, you cannot have a faithful brew. Taste the faithful brew.
 As a initial sidebar to what will hopefully be a long and healthy continuation of blog posts about my relationship with coffee, I would like to make a concerted plea to all enjoyers and proponents of GOOD coffee at the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee, that they would advocate for the “little guy,” who for months has provided happiness and joy by means of third-wave quality coffee.
For the first time in our short history, we are facing a push-back from the university because of our recent attempt to serve coffee while also keeping ourselves warm during the frigid winter months. After recently collaborating with a local dessert specialist in possession of a certified food trailer, we were accosted by University police for selling our now merged goods on city-approved carriage ways. In their confrontation, they insisted that we move, due to the height of our trailer obstructing north-bound oncoming traffic’s view of the pedestrian cross-walk sign. The argument certainly had merit. When given the alternative of parking on a square of university-owned property adjacent to the Lapham Hall and Architecture buildings, we immediately complied. Yet due to the inconceivable and inordinate amount of bureaucracy at the University, UWM police, misguided in their attempt to offer my partner and I an opportunity to vend in another location, dispatched another officer to contradict initial propositions and thus demonize our behavior as “citable offenses.” We were complicit with every ordinance demanded of us at the time and were thwarted because of the purposefully entangled system designed to perpetuate miscommunication and frustrate potential vendors. Our final remaining channel for continuing on/near university property in the warmer entity lies in the hands of the University Student Association, whose faculty at this point have been uncooperative, delayed in response, and as bureaucratic as the rest of the University ”red-tapers.” Our call is for the collective student voice to allow our companies to vend on university property for the sake of our employees in order that they may have proper working conditions, and for the students, who benefit from the sale of our goods. Although we realize that this time is busy for students, your involvement in this matter now may determine whether or not we vend at UWM in the future. We need you! #uwm #weneedyourhelp #panthers #sojournermobilecoffee  I do recount my first encounter with the modern day “coffee shop,” and, thinking about it, it most certainly was a Starbucks. I don’t recall ever having to go in there before. When my brother and cousin first began to venture into coffee, my family would bring them to a local gas station that served their own concept of “cappuccino.” Thus, living where I did in college, I had the advantage of entering into the proverbial “Starbucks on every corner,” which was still very much the case in 2010.
It just so happened that the crowd I was with at the time did not order anything semi-close to coffee, but rather some juice substance or blended ice-beverage with about four other titles associated with it. Yet it was with that group of people that my future hangout spot had been secured. After that I encountered a coffee quantum leap from the pit of murphy drip I had once wallowed in to an Ethiopian ecstasy. Certainly I hadn’t developed a palate refined enough to yet distinguish between countries. I think my entire mouth had been caught off guard. But at that point, coffee shops, not the coffee itself began to influence the way in which I lived. A certain ambiance emanated from the operation of an espresso machine and the mystical steam which it created. The deafening scream of steam-lances frothing milk or coffee grinders cracking away gave the impression that the necessary production of the world economy was taking place amidst conversations of the utmost importance which seemed to tolerate the inevitable bustle of blue collar labor. Certainly no one would give way to the consideration that the environment fabricated for them had no way to penetrate the core of their more than human longing. Before I enter into more critical commentary, I will say that this concept of background production at the helm of human thought or discussion at least offered me a degree of solace. I could inwardly resonate with the yearning that man has to be of some utility, of some use-value, despite all his other desires centered on the sole objective to do absolutely nothing at all. Certainly this notion had the power to solidify a bond, or at least create some semblance of cohesion, since it mingles two of the most inherently held aspirations. Yet as assuring as the average coffee shop may have seemed in maintaining such bonds, their actual outcome proved otherwise. Indeed, most of the relationships I formed when at coffee shops did not persist. I cannot account for the rest of humanity, but I’d propose this to be true for a majority of people longing for meaning and genuine relationship at a coffee shop. It’s odd when you think about it: we tend to evaluate the people, not the coffee shop itself, as the reason in which loners go to ponder life, non-busy people go to look as though they really ARE busy, friends go to gossip, dreamers go to dream, hipsters go to... whatever. What’s most strange is that when we are making these assessments, we typically do it from the stance of... a chair in that very coffee shop. And at all other times, when we are not contriving these judgments, we can fit the bill of any of the formerly categorized people. Meaning that coffee shops tend to be a place where judge, jury and executioner all silently perform their unsolicited functions while perpetuating the very stereotypes that they (I) inwardly indemnify. Maybe that’s why coffee today is being enjoyed more for itself rather than for the masquerade of community that it creates. Maybe that’s why the appreciation for mobile coffee is increasing amongst young people especially, who see past the façade of the fixed pondering stations of liquid beanery. And maybe that is why companies like Sojourner are currently just a cup away from being catalysts in reshaping the thought of coffee shop inhabitants. #sojournermobilecoffee #mobilecoffee #coffeeshops We have realized how important it is to know where we are getting our coffee from. Who do you REALLY want preparing your cup of wonderful?  As an introduction, I would like to explain to everyone how I got involved in the fiasco that is coffee. To some degree, it doesn't seem to make a whole lot of sense that someone who did not even like the smell of coffee, let alone the putrid taste, would ever have the nerve to mass produce the beverage that would influence an entire generation of people. I hated coffee growing up. My mom would prepare it early in the morning as black as could be, and the burnt smell served as nothing more than a reminder that it was time to wake up or watch cartoons. It wasn't until college that the necessity (or however one may define necessity) came about that I would drink coffee to keep awake for the exam weeks. There is no one who knows the concept "all-nighters" more so than the average English major. Why these above all others? Well, although you may find term papers in just about any kind of degree field, the English major takes it upon themselves to pick their own topic (wherein others have them predetermined), upgrade their typically unrefined vocabulary to inhuman forms of grammatical excellence (see latter sentence as an example), and more than likely go above and beyond what is required of them as far as writing length is concerned. They also have the utmost regard for meaning and context, so all-nighters are an inevitability. My first cup was an instant form of "Maxwell House" vanilla cappuccino. Of course there is no excusing the fact that this is not coffee at all. It should hardly even be mentioned on a coffee blog. But I bet if you were to go back and check the nutritional value on the container, under that box you would likely find the caffeine content to be at least above "negligible," and thus the cravings began. I remember the sugary sweetness supplementing the little caffeine that was actually in this drink began to fuel my desire for even more energy, and thus I resorted to the coffee-Red Bull like mutation that Starbucks offered, not only combining sugar and caffeine, but also the abominable (a-bomb-in-a-bull) fertility resin known as "taurine" (how anyone could consent to ingesting such substances without being completely masked by the "froofiest" of mixtures, I cannot explain). Slowly my tolerance for such "energies" increased, as did the vacancy within my pocket book (I did not yet have a bank account). I resorted to the most reasonable way to acquire the pure form of bean-stimulant, the coffee maker. Certainly my palette had know way of preparing for the sensation I was about to experience aside from the innate preconception that this was just not going to go well (certainly my palette still has know capacity to prepare for such experiences). Thus began the lengthy escapade with me and coffee. #really #thoughttherewouldbemore #coffeeshopblogtocome |
AuthorSojourner Mobile Coffee Archives
June 2020
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