Who knew I’d end up here.

One of my most poignant character traits (whether it be taken as positive or negative) is my unyielding stubbornness. My Mum, an avid believer in personal horoscopes and the zodiac puts it all down to my being a Taurean but I think its mostly to do with being the youngest of three girls and the last to leave the nest.

So when I arrived in Paris late March this year and threw myself headlong into work, I was shocked a week later to make the realisation that it probably wasn’t going to pan out…

It all harks back to when I got my first taste of the specialty industry in 2006. I’d been at St.Ali in South Melbourne for just six months and only was beginning to feel like getting somewhere when the carpet was pulled from beneath all the staff and we were told the business had been sold.

Eventually, after figuring out that it had been bought by a rather unwholesome dude, I made the decision to approach my then bosses and tell them how it was: I found myself morally unable to pledge my loyalty to an employer whose sole interests were financial. There has to be some undercurrent of passion, some push for a greater good aside from monetary gain.

What that has to do with my life, six years later in France is that there was, not for the lack of trying, nothing I could do to bring this business to the level of my expectations. Every week there was meetings, discussions and lengthy emails detailing small steps that could be taken to move forwards. Some weeks were more optimistic than others. But this was a place that had already garnered the laurel crown of Parisian coffee simply by not being awful and felt that with this reputation, why try to improve.

I was mortified. I’d thrown every last penny I had made into flipping my life over and getting to the other side of the world. My life was officially Parisian, I wanted to stay here forever. My friends were here, my co-workers were incredible. This is where I became stubborn. I wouldn’t give it up without a fight.

So I battled, I raged. For 7 months I talked myself off the ledge of giving up to go and work in a bar until my holiday visa expired and see what happened next. Until magically, after paying my own way to the Nordic Barista Cup and having one of the most excellent, mind expanding, liver annihilating weeks of my life; I got an email.  From my dream job, that I’d been pining for, for years after every bag a coffee arrived from mystic Norway. Tim Wendelboe in Oslo.

Apparently not many sane people get the urge to move to the top of the earth where its painfully cold and dark six months of the year but I always told myself that I will have “made it” if I ever had a position there. I was lucky enough that a spot needed filling and I might be just the lady they were looking for.

So I packed up my French life. It fit rather badly in four suitcases.

I cleaned my tiny little flat, had a raging goodbye party in an expensive haute couture dress, completed my last WOD at CrossFit Addicts Paris and rode my bike through the streets, late at night, trying desperately to soak the place into my veins for fear of that feeling ever leaving me.

Then I got on a plane and left.

After a cheeky week back in Australia to meet my brand new niece, Aurora and a pit stop in LA to visit a couple of buddies, I plunged into -15 degrees and will never look back.  Oslo is mind blowing. The air is clean, it snows constantly, the people smile back at you and the most important part: I’ve never worked in a place I love more. Nothing is done without a purpose and all the folks that work there have only excellence in mind. No words can really describe it but after being so sorely disappointed, my hearts never been so over joyed.

Fancy that, who knew I’d end up here.

Change is brewing.

Six months ago I was in a right state.

I’d already taken a sabbatical from the specialty industry on the belief that caffeine was tearing at the edges of my sanity. So, humming away in Spotswood, learning a few things about food that I hadn’t known before, I eventually got sucked into that too. Babies were had and Duchess was growing at such an enormous rate that I barely had a hold on the reins of the shop, let alone my actual life.

So I stopped. Just packed up my house in Moonee Ponds, with my pseudo wife at the Ladies Lounge. Put everything I owned in storage and shipped four hours up the highway to my parents farm. They grow Hereford cattle on 200 acres just far enough out of town to not receive internet signal. Their place overlooks an enormous valley and from the front veranda you can see at least eight little towns that dot the rolling hills. Being in the thick of it in Melbourne almost makes you forget about how beautiful a place like this really is.

So ensued three months of swimming in rivers, reading books, baking sourdough, doing the crossword and drinking tea. But there had to be a goal to move towards. I couldn’t sit around drinking tea for the rest of my days.

And it appeared in the most bizarre fashion… A friend request on facebook. Now I am pretty dubious about social media from the get go, especially when I don’t recognize the face behind the supposed acquaintance. But my curiosity burned. This Frenchman accompanied his request with a message, telling me all about how he used to live in Melbourne and had since moved back to Paris and opened a spectacular (google proved him to be correct) specialty roastery named “Coutume”. We’d met at Brother Baba Budan a few years ago and he wanted to know… Would I fancy heading to the northern hemisphere and having a crack at lending a hand opening their second shop in the Marais?

It took some convincing from my Mum and sister before I saw any truth in the email… Surely it was some cruel hoax. 

Apparently not though because next Wednesday evening at 11:55pm, I’ll be coasting down the tarmac at Tullamarine with one suitcase and one carry on bag. Heading to a continent I’ve never been on before, to a place where I barely speak the language and only know one person. My new employer, Antoine. 

Everything really seems to have come together though and I’ve never been more ready for anything in my life.

 

Wish me luck.

Its all sediment!

Broadsheet Cafe.

I’ve been making Nick Shelton coffee ever since I moved to Melbourne. He runs quite a fine publication known as Broadsheet.

For the Melbourne Food and Wine Festival, he managed to co-ordinate six cafes and roasteries into a lovely little pop up shop on Crossley st. Each day, a different team hosted the space and overcame the various obstacles such as no running water, drainage or air flow (apart from one door at the end of a long narrow space). Some of the coffee that was made was absolutely mind blowing and I am so chuffed that Nick took it upon himself to put specialty coffee and the talent of Australian coffee business in the lime light.

Market Lane was lucky enough to snare the last day, Toshi and I getting in early to dial in the new Seasonal Espresso (the Brazil Paseo Rubi) and make some delicious pour overs of the Guatemalan Ernersto. We were totally slammed all day, selling out of everything and running out of coffee by 3pm.  A nice fitting end to working 20 days in a row!

Victorian Barista Competition Part Three.

Jesse Hyde, Dancing Goat:

Jesse scored the winners sash two years ago and due to an unfortunately timed illness last year, wasn’t able to compete in 2010. So of course, he was one of the ones to watch this weekend.

As soon as the strains of Tool were heard over the speakers, I was on the edge of my seat.  There was so much personality bursting out of everything he did.  It was very refreshing.

He had two Robur E’s sitting on stage with a Seven Seeds roasted Colombian Carlos Imbachi in one and the Costa Rican Monte Copey in the other. He explained that each of them were roasted to different levels and they were 4 days apart in age, to achieve the best from both. When post blended during dosing in a 50/50 basket split it created a clarified brew with body from the Imbachi and acidity from the Monte Copey.

The cappuccinos were soft chocolate, malt, sweet and custard. He also sourced his own Jersey milk that was organic and non homogenised.

The best part though, was the concept that he came up with for the signature.  I was curious when he placed frying pans in front of each judge and then absolutely bowled over when he announced that he would be making them, “Bacon and eggs”.

He created a steamed almond milk which supplied a gentle marzipan, created a saffron custard and then garnished the beverage with a white chocolate and raspberry strip of “bacon”.  The judges were then instructed to slip their egg into their espressos and drink.

Caleb Podhaczky, Five Senses:

For someone that roasts and is not a full time barista, Caleb does pretty well for himself.  He took the title of champion last year and of course, won it once again this year. I was totally backing him too, not solely for the fact that he is a lovely guy but also because in my first year competing, he helped me out enormously.  Most notably for lending me some white cotton gloves to handle my ACF’s with.  I think I still have them kicking around the house somewhere.  Sorry Caleb.

His whole routine was shrouded in mystery.  I asked him before he went onstage about which coffees he was using and he was gracious enough to tell me the names.  In the subsequent coffee brain washing it has slipped my mind but I do recall it was an Ethiopian and a Guatemalan.

The whole routine was based around the concept of group sensory perception.  He wanted the judges to explore their own opinions of the coffee before he revealed the tasting notes. So each judge was given a card with all the information about what they would be consuming and were given a choice as to whether or not they wanted to flip it over.

He prepared a tasting plate for his signature drink which was also shrouded in mystery.  A flight of three beverages, all made using the same espresso.  I was lucky enough to get to taste them and it was an interesting concept.  The first in the flight was a warm custard consistency, prepared in a thermomix.  The next two were quite salty and sour, respectively. They also turned my mouth blue, which was due to food dye.

Emily Ch’ng, Monk Bodhi Dharma:

I really admire Emily for her total immersion in the coffee process.  She roasted all of her own coffee and it gave her a really valuable insight.

She presented an espresso of 60% Sumatran Takengong, 25% Brazil Santa Elena and 15% Ethiopian Yirgacheffe.  It was versatile and tasted of nuts, chocolate and orange.

Her signature was really something else. A bright pink pomegranate and blueberry reduction infused with Costa Rican Panela and gelatin. I was lucky enough to get a sneaky taste and it was like sipping on black forrest chocolate. There was a bit of a fight over the remaining crowd to lap up the dregs.

Victorian Barista Competition 2011.

I woke up this morning with the deep regret of tequila at 3am.

The early morning heatwave streamed into my tinderbox apartment and I hit the snooze a few times before realising that, yes, it was Saturday but no, I am no longer on holiday and I really needed to haul myself to St Kilda to witness one of the finest examples of Victorian Barista talent that I’ve ever seen.

I unfortunately arrived to the Town Hall at 10:30, missing the first three competitors. I managed to catch up with a couple and pick their brains about their routines, so alas, no photos for the first few. I also must apoligise about any misinformation that I may have written, it is a suprisingly difficult task to take notes and manage to get decent photographs also. There is also a distinct lack of any images of table settings as the stage for the competitors was towering over me and there wasn’t any live streaming this year to get a better view. Oh well, it really took the pressure off the guys in regards to not having a room of 200 people glaring at their shaky latte art.

2011 was once again, an enormous sausage fest. Matt Perger eloquently summed it up as, “Too many dicks on the dancefloor.” Charming. But it was really unparalleled, the pool of competitors has doubled in size. There were two reigning champions and a collection of place holders, all with excellent set ups, flawless tech skills and creative approaches to their 15 minutes of fame. The only disappointing outcome of this year, in my opinion was the number of competitors to have chosen the Guatemalan Santa Clara as their coffee. Sure, it gives the competitor much more ability to showcase their roasters talents but for a spectator, its can come off as specialty coffee being a one trick pony. There is so many amazing coffees to be had in Australia at the moment!

That being said, onward to the rundown.

John Vroom, Proud Mary:

From what I have gleaned, John comes from Canada is pretty new in Melbourne.  He joined the Proud team and has been killing it there ever since.  I was super impressed to hear that he had taken on the challenge of the competitions in such a new working environment. He used a blend of Guatemalan Santa Clara, Ethiopian Nekisse and a Sumatran that was hand sorted for defects over beers at the roastery in Footscray.  Apparently it took them around 4 hours and they had to throw away around 50% of the original pile. That is dedication.  He told me that his coffee tasted of butter toast with a chocolate finish and was rather well balanced.  He also used an unhomogenized milk from Jonesies which was delicious.

His signature drink was a liquid breakdown of his grandmothers famous fruit pie. It included sugar, yeast, biscuits, vanilla, cream, nectarines, plums and juice.  My God do I wish that I had been around to scoff that for breakfast.  Yum.

Kiril Shaginov, Auction Rooms:

Kiril and I worked together at Seven Seeds for a little while after he came back to Australia from doing some pretty extensive traveling with his partner Josephine (who did a stellar job as a sensory judge today).  He is one of those fellas that can turn their hand to anything and do an amazing job.  I also missed out on his performance.  He was meant to be first up on Sunday morning but was switched around to Saturday.  Bummer.

Hamish at Small Batch roasted his coffee which was a washed single origin Kenyan Oretti.  His emphasis for the espresso was on the elegance of single estate and raw foods, incorporating Costa Rican panela and cocoa nibs for his signature drink.  He gently pressed the nibs to begin to release some of the butter to create a viscous texture.  It was served warm and aerated.

For the cappuccinos he used a blend of 60% CoE Guatemalan from the Santa Clara region and 40% Ethiopian Yirgacheffe. It tasted like wild berry and toffee.

Craig Simon:

I first met Craig eons ago at my first ever barista competition.  He had a distinct thai influence and approached the entire signature beverage on a harmony of sweet, sour and salt.  Just like good thai food.  I was impressed and thought that he was going to clean up. He has a methodical and technically perfect rhythm. This year he used a blend roasted by Veneziano of two dry process 100% Bourbon El Salvadors, the La Montanita and El Manzano. It tasted like cream and blood orange jam and he described it as juicy and crisp. He was really excited about this coffee because the farm was able to process the coffee three different ways and apparently the taste differences were remarkable.

For his signature drink he created a cold drip of the Manzano and blended it with lime, sugar syrup and mineral water.

Matt Perger, Market Lane Coffee:

Pre competition, Matt was spamming twitter with “intimidation” tactics.  Come game day he lived up to the hype.  The photo’s don’t really do them justice but his ceramics for water, milk and signature drink preparation were beautiful.  I also liked that ad-mist the masculine vibes, he set his table with a few posies.  Better than his set up was the radical Robur E mod, nicknamed by Dave Makin, “The Whiz Bang”.  This little fella looks a bit like Frankenstein but it works a treat.  Pre-weighed doses are placed inside a piece of black plastic chute which is topped with a lid, coffee goes in and after it finishes grinding, you blast the remaining grounds with a cheeky air canister.  Turning it basically into a competition style deli grinder.

His coffee was roasted by Jason Cheltus at Market Lane who snuck away from work to join me in the crowd.  Matt also used the Santa Clara but spent the entire fifteen minutes referring to his coffee lovingly as Clara.  She was shade grown, washed and sundried. He instructed the judges that his espressos would be hazelnut in colour and that they could expect a clean coffee with plenty of body with notes of cherry and stone fruit.  Their cappuccinos would be thick, silky and taste of shortbread and butter.

Matts signature drink was simple and rather pretty, a combination of cherry syrup and a little water for dilution.

Nic Michaelides, Studio Movida:

I do believe it was Nic’s first competition this morning and I was impressed with his attention to detail and organisation. He used a blend of El Salvador El Pollo and Colombian Del Obispo.  I didn’t manage to catch who roasted his coffee but it sounded delicious. He described it as caramel up front with good body and a cocoa finish.  In his signature drink he infused cream, cinnamon, cloves, walnuts and spice.

I am getting to the point of the evening where I am unable to understand my notes anymore and I must be back in St Kilda at 9am to do it all again.  Hopefully I can finish it off tomorrow evening.

Venice Beach.

After a brief interlude…

Los Angeles has this amazing ability to make the whole day feel like one lazy Sunday afternoon. I think it might be that layer of haze that has worked its way across the valley. It may also be the haze that has contributed to a very tight feeling in my chest. At first I thought it was nervousness, catching buses with no money or idea of direction. I was helped out my some LA natives, who slung me a dollar, gave me a transfer ticket and sent me the right way; hauling all my bags.

I eventually made it to The Venice Beach Cotel, changed then hit the streets on my rented bike. I rode all the way to Santa Monica. On the way back I hit a vegan cafe, made friends with a classical pianist and a movie producer then hit the road again.

The one thing that did suprise me was the fellas have a pretty annoying habit of telling you exactly what is on their mind. And I quote, “DAMN GIRRRRRRL.”

I gladly sought refuge within the ever-so-hip walls of Intelligencia Venice. If you thought that Australian baristas have attitude, just you wait till you meet these guys. Never have I ever been made to feel like scum ordering coffee but I guess there is always a first for everything. The next day was a little better but I haven’t felt the international family vibe yet.

At this point in time I am pretty desperate for a shower. I’ll try and keep you in the loop.

A year already?

I was pleasantly suprised to arrive to work on Monday to discover that a few of the boys had arrived at work sporting “Moustache Monday”. Heck yeah.

So Seven Seeds is officially a year old.
When Bridget mentioned to me last Wednesday (the real birthday), I accidentally blurted out that we’ve all aged a little bit more like 5-10. I suppose that just means that we’ve been working hard, but still, its a bit surreal.

In true Seeds fashion, we celebrated. Burgers by Beatbox Kitchen and beer by the Good Brew co.

There was a bit of in house stripping and all around revelry, ending a little too suddenly at 11:30pm.

We also managed to fit in a cheeky in house smackdown amongst the baristas. Considering it was a cold Tuesday night and MD failed to inform anyone of the event, we had a pretty good turn out. Mark Free brought the house down with his moves, timed perfectly with this song:

But it was Alex Anderson with his particular blend of house (? please forgive me as I know absolutely squat about dance music) that took out the little breville home machine with some bangin’ flat whites. I came in 2nd and in an impressive show for the ladies, Katie Pink, took out 3rd place. Considering that there are two ladies amongst a sea of men, I think we held up pretty well.

Big week, now back to the routine and looking forward to the WBC.

Cup of Excellence in Australia.

Well, thank you internet. I just experienced the wonder and joy of losing an entire post. Oh yay.

A few weeks ago, Mark and Bridget organised Erwin and Suzie from Cup of Excellence to take the trip down to Melbourne town and teach us monkeys a thing or two. There were plenty of coffee folk there from all around Australia, from Perth, Tasmania, Sydney and the Snowy Mountains. We sat in on two of the four days that were focused intensively on cupping, scoring, farming and CoE as a global standard for quality.

Cup of Excellence is synonymous for quality, a non for profit organisation that has been around for a decade. Since kicking off in Brazil in 1999, they have been sending experienced roasters, buyers and growers in almost 10 countries, every single harvest to score and judge handpicked lots from origins throughout the globe. Every coffee that stands the test of intensive tasting and comes out with a score of over 84 is offered online in a completely transparent auction. These can be bought by anyone that can cough up the serious dollars that the lots sell for.

Buyers sit tirelessly on their computers in the wee hours, watching and bidding, trying to come out on top. Farmers in turn become national heroes for high scoring or winning coffees. Their lives are changed by the money that comes directly back to them, having the opportunity to build better houses, invest in farm machinery, employ more staff and and any number of positive changes.

The Friday and Saturday I spent learning about the program and cupping with cool cats was the raddest coffee time I’ve had the whole time I have lived here. This is a good example of a cool cat.

We learnt about faults, compared roast to roast, discovered the differences that water quality can make to a cupping and tasted solutions to calibrate our palates. Turns out that a sweeter coffee is also a higher scoring one. Are we all really just a bunch of sweet tooths? You can tell by the amount of spit on my sheets that I was really getting into it. Or uncoordinated. Maybe both.

I can vouch that I am a bit of a sweet tooth though. As when I was totally coffee-d out at the end of the two days, the only thing that could bring me back to life was a batch of homemade hot cross buns.

Mmmmmm!

Someone stole the Aesop, again.

I don’t know what it is but there seems to be a contingency of Carlton kleptomaniacs on the loose with beautifully moisturised skin. One weekend at Seven Seeds we lost both of them to the crafty monkeys. I am absolutely open to suggestion as to a solution. We might end up just having to go without. Bummer.