Last Post

Readers,
I'll be discontinuing this blog because as of late July, my life circumstances will be changing indelibly and greatly -- so if I may abuse those two adverbs, I'll probably lose the time and energy to muse about coffee.
Instead, I'll try to keep up my writing and sharing through a new blog "Radish in a Spaceship: Adventures in the Professorial Life and Parenting," (also on Blogger) touching upon issues which are salient in my everyday world (to be).  I hope that coffee may come up every now and then in that blog -- because I'll either be trying to stay awake or to get some relief from quotidian anxieties.
Thanks for reading "Coffee and Culture."

Observer-Non Participant

I have written in the past about taking a break from coffee for certain reasons, and as of late, I have learned that I should really do so, and perhaps for a long time if not indefinitely.
People are generally conscious of the less-than-salubrious effects of alcohol, tobacco, and other addictive substances.  Many a coffee lover has joked about being entirely and devotedly dependent on the beverage.  Scientific studies come out every now and then about how coffee will increase one's chances of developing X disease or in the worst case scenario, shorten one's expected lifespan considerably.
Quite sadly, even though I cannot even call myself a true coffee fiend who consumes cups and cups a day (at my worst, about five, at my best, about one), maintaining normal health has become dependent on me not drinking coffee.  In fact, my whole caffeine intake has to be reduced to modest levels, with each bit of caffeine (including those hidden in foods and beverages) counting towards a stringent quota.
Therefore, as I was forced to cut coffee cold turkey due to recent hospitalization and medical treatment, I have started to ponder how I can appreciate coffee without drinking it.  Certainly losing the tool of taste will impact my perceptions of coffee and coffee culture severely, but I hope that I can still derive some enjoyment from my as-yet favorite beverage.
Perhaps I can re-channel my energy into making good coffee for others, even though I won't be able to taste-test it...

Coffee and Religion

I won't get into the details behind why I have this attitude, but to sum up a whole ball of contradictory emotions into one statement: I feel ambivalent about religion. I believe that spirituality is essential to the human experience.  I believe that there is some supernatural beings (or probably multiple ones) that we can refer to as "God."  I realize that our universe is not the only one and that the six days of creation described in the Bible represent the long (understatement) process of evolution that our globe went through (talk about growing pains!).  In all, I remain cautious and skeptical about the costs and benefits of religion, even though I belong to one of the largest religious institutions in the world.

Being of the "live and let live" and "learn about every religion because each reveals some part of Faith" school, I try not to let religion play a significant role in my public life.  I do not talk about religious practice as a social topic (academic discussions are fine) if I can help it.  I would certainly not try to convert anyone to my religion, and if anyone asked about it, I would share what I personally believe but never call it the utmost truth. You can consider these proclivities as stemming from fears about imposing my intellectual will on others (I do that enough professionally), becoming blind and closed-minded due to religious fervor, and allowing religion rather than reason to dictate *all* of my beliefs and actions.

But lo and behold, religion found me in the form of a serendipitous decision to visit the "Bonfire Cafe" in Causeway Bay. No, the storefront does not display large black, yellow, and orange flames. Rather, the shop's color scheme is mostly pastel green, yellow, and white. It's not a place that shows off the tough, daring nature of coffee, like a place I will write about another time. The atmosphere is like that of a hospital canteen (cafeteria), except less sterile and more cheerful.

I ordered a Costa Rican coffee, French pressed, and sat down with a glass of water to start. I only wanted to kill some time before a neighboring store opened, so I concentrated on doing some reading while waiting for the coffee. When it arrived, I noticed that the sugar and warm milk were placed neatly by the side of the cup. I passed on the sugar, but I tried some of the warm milk in the coffee after the first few sips and everything, temperature and taste, were in sync.

It was only as I was leaving the cafe that I realized the Catholic mission of the establishment. If I were a "good" Catholic, I would think that God led me there, but given that I'm of the "Catholicism is one of many manifestations of spirituality" kind (not the Vatican's favorite, I imagine), I figured that He just wanted me to have a delicious cup of coffee and that fate determined the rest... 

Stumping for Stumptown

As an academic, summer is the only time when I can justify thinking about work for less than 40 hours a week.  It's also a wonderful season of business and personal travel, brainstorming of new projects, and with strategic planning, opportunities to explore aspects of life that are utterly self-gratifying.  Therefore, the whole slew of posts to follow in the next few weeks describe episodes in the Scholar's Summer from May to August.  

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A constant in my life that I have yet to forget or refute is that I left my hometown, Portland, Oregon, to seek exposure to more culturally diverse environments. Many native Oregonians and one-time visitors to the Beaver State tell me that "everything is so hip" now -- a state of being that evolved after I started my life away from home 17 years ago. Every time I return to visit my parents, I feel like my sense of distance from the city, even the archetypical sleepy suburb where I was literally born and raised, is increasing. I even caught myself stuttering multiple times when trying to order food and purchase things -- despite having spoken English for all but two years of my life, I was not quite sure how to phrase expressions according to the latest colloquial linguistic trends in Portland.

But all snobbery aside, I am glad that Portland's cultural renaissance, or in my dim view, positive move towards cultural heterogeneity, has received much recognition and therefore further momentum to continue.  Non-chain establishments, environmentally sound practices are commonplace and beneficial for social well-being.

Thanks to an old friend (we met sometime in elementary school -- so wonderfully long ago, the exact circumstances are ancient history), I visited Stumptown Coffee in downtown Portland.  I am not sure why Portland is called Stumptown (go ahead and Google it, all I know is that when the Trailblazers were having great seasons, there were many interesting songs about "Stumptown") but I was very happy to see that the cafe was full but not overflowing with people.  A loft on the ground, seating seems to be deliberately sparse.  One can choose a small table, comfortably accommodating two people, or a stool at the bar.

I do not want this blog to become a tasting site, since I am neither a coffee professional nor a person who believes that my taste buds are much more sophisticated than other people's.  Yet I will throw in comments about good coffee, not because I receive compensation, not because I'm trying to endorse certain coffee beans/establishments and to criticize others.  I agree with my Wiser Half's assessment about tea, namely that a good tea is one that tastes good to the person drinking it.  Same with coffee...but at Stumptown, besides being initially impressed by the wide open space of Stumptown Coffee, then frustrated when it seemed that I could not secure a table to accommodate self, friend, and Wiser Half, and finally relieved when we could all sit down together, I was happy to have a cup of Ethiopian coffee that is just as distinctive, fair-minded, and multifaceted as my hometown is working hard to be -- Nano Challa.

http://stumptowncoffee.com/coffee/ethiopia-nano-challa-2/

Seeds of Hope

Life is surprising...

Taken by Madame N, 17 June 2012

I am notoriously biased about comparing Taipei and Hong Kong's coffee scenes, to the advantage of the former and therefore the detriment of the latter. Taipei deserves all the praise I heap upon it (more evidence of favoritism) but yesterday, I discovered that perhaps I should dig deeper to appreciate the less obvious but nevertheless existent gems of Hong Kong.

I was literally walking down the street (Third Street in Sheung Wan/Sai Ying Pun) when I happened to turn my head left (not unusual, since I am left-handed). I saw a small alley and the sign in the photo above. I must give due credit to the unknown gentleman who was carrying two box lunches in that direction, as well as some tofu in a bag. I felt unnaturally brave and followed him down the alley (not a deep dark one but just a friendly, open cul-de-sac, actually).

At first, I thought the place might be closed since it was Sunday. If it was a typical lunch place catering to professionals, it might be, but it turned out to be a tiny but bustling vegetarian establishment. The top of two floors has one long table, and the ground floor only has four tables for two persons each. Several pairs of customers came in and waited patiently. A good sign.

I was fortunate to come in on time to sit at the table closest to the door and overlooking a small patio with spaces for six other diners. I ordered the restaurant's signature dal, a digestion booster smoothie, and a coffee. I didn't expect much from the coffee, being the third item to be served in the sequence and because good cuisine and good coffee are not always paired together, far from it. 

The one word to describe the coffee brewing method of this restaurant is sincerity. The coffee arrived at my table not only piping hot but poured so rapidly that I could practically see black foam at the top. The frothy robustness of the coffee carried through to the flavor, which was so strong that I had to drink the cup quickly.  I also felt the pressure, not from the servers but just innately, to leave as soon as possible to give my place to another set of eager diners. For HKD 28 and feeling completely rushed, I enjoyed the coffee very much.

Here and There

All three photos taken by MadameN, 2012

 

Last week, I was in Taiwan, which I have praised before as a veritable coffee Mecca. I only spent four days there, with the principal mission of attending and presenting at a conference, so my time for gadding about coffee shops was limited. I did try to make lemonade out of lemons by writing up my final presentation notes in one particular establishment, the Ici Cafe (the Chinese name being the translation of the official one, therefore "Here").

I normally don't take photographs of places I visit, but armed with a smartphone (long story, but basically free for being a "loyal customer" so why not?), I captured my delight by snapping the three pictures posted above, before entering the cafe.

Ici has two levels. I did not try peeking into the first floor but rather marched straight up to the second one, determined to find a seat on a Saturday afternoon. My gamble paid off, and I earned the place right next to the coffee bar, discreetly disguised door to the bathroom, and cashier counter. Perfect.

I ordered a "tea set" consisting of a siphon-brewed Mandheling and a banana-chocolate waffle. I do not like to eat sweet foods in substantial amounts so I stared wide-eyed at the ensemble that I received: a Belgian waffle cut into quadrants, arranged in domino-style next to a small dish of chocolate ice cream AND a mini-pitcher of thick chocolate syrup PLUS a footed dish of freshly whipped cream. Oh heavens.

The Mandheling, brewed before my eyes by a calm expert (so critical when one considers how orders were flying violently in during this prime time), was smooth, slightly sweet, and consistent from first to last sip. I did not adulterate it with anything and was surprised how well the porcelain cup maintained the temperature for nearly one full hour. I wish I had the siphon on my table too, but with the waffle dish, my notes, and my cup, I could not be so greedy.

I'll deviate from course and exclaim that the waffle, each greedy bite, was delicious. I tried all sorts of flavor combinations (ice cream plus syrup on waffle, whipped cream only, etc.) to overcome my initial concern that I would be wasting food. My only regret is the Mandheling became a sideshow, subject to periodic sips in order to clear away all the floury goodness.

The atmosphere was typically "posh, highly populated." My neighbors were bizarre -- as much as I disapproved of their conversation, I will not dishonor them by describing it here. The bathroom was much appreciated, being so conveniently located and pristine. Children under 12 are not allowed on the second floor of the cafe, presumably to avoid any lawsuits related to them falling up or down the stairs, but otherwise, cheers to being Here!

Back to Black (2?)

I may have already used this Amy Winehouse reference -- I cannot remember at the moment, but I just wanted to write a quick post about having my first Caffe Americano today after several months.  I thought I would be on hiatus for several months, perhaps even a year, but things don't always work out as planned, and now I find myself medically able to drink coffee again.  The key term is medically, because I learned today that coffee consumption is a habit, not just an addiction, but a practice that one must keep up in order to savor the flavor and to get through a whole cup (previously, not a problem).

MarshalN and I went to have some sushi, a feeble attempt to raise our spirits, and as we were wending through Langham Place Mall, we discovered a new business called "100 Bites," an upscale cafe run by Honeymoon Dessert, a popular chain for Chinese-style sweet soups or literally "sweet water" (Mandarin: tang shui) and lots of things with mangoes and/or sticky rice.  The business was obviously new.  Only three other couples were present, and the team of ten staff members were still learning how to coordinate their service routine.  I would say that going back after another month or two would be more sensible -- MarshalN had to wait for 15 minutes to see his mini apple crumble with ice cream -- bizarre because the showcase next to the cashier had at least eight of those desserts ready to go.

He kindly ordered me a coffee -- Caffe Americano -- which came out in a medium-sized white mug, brewed dark and rich.  I had a few sips, absorbed the caffeine buzz, but then gave up.  I think the staff will assume that I did not enjoy the coffee, which is not true, but my body was simply not in the mood.

I don't know if I'll go back to coffee as I did before, which would be a pity, losing both a favorite beverage and a hobby, but I'll see how things go...

Vicarious Coffee

For reasons to be revealed later, I will not be able to drink as much coffee as I like this year. In fact, I am back in a position that I never anticipated (or at least hoped and prayed to avoid) after my second year as a doctoral student during which I valiantly (and quite ridiculously, in hindsight) attempted to give up coffee. At that time, I thought that I could calm my nerves and perform better on my qualifying exams by taking control of my happy addiction to the c. bean. I quit nearly cold turkey and spent several months experiencing a yet more thrilling psychological state than just being perpetually hyperactive from the caffeine buzz. I learned my lesson after my resolve broke down (disintegrated, to be direct) and went back to coffee right after the qualifying exam was over.
This time, with my capacity for drinking already much diminished, I am going to take things as slowly as possible. I have already given up espressos, afternoon coffee, and even a properly strong brew of exquisite beans (thanks to E.L. of New York -- must post about that later). My mug may now contain one paltry serving of weak brown water, but I shall try to keep up my enthusiasm for coffee through sight and smell, if not taste.

Time for Coffee

I have always taken comfort in the fact that coffee can be gulped down while multi-tasking. Aside from the danger of burning one's tongue if it is too hot, coffee is not a drink that one has to brew multiple times. In fact, to do so with the same grounds would taste terrible. I envy aficionados of tea who have the patience to brew leaves or steep tea bags with limitless patience. I even miss the days when my wiser half, MarshalN, could spend hours drinking his tea, book in hand or in partial meditation mode. Now, regrettably, he has mastered the "brew-and-go" method, shuttling back and forth from our living room where his kettle and tea accessories reside to his study, cup after cup poured, drunk, rinse and repeat.

So I resolve that this year, both of us will be able to enjoy our caffeinated beverages in a leisurely manner, restoring the joy of a slow, hot brew. As we approach our mid-30s, I am starting to believe that we could do with less of the "high-octane, go-getter" mentality and revive a more youthful interest in appreciating fun things...so in the spirit of escaping the tyranny of time,

http://www.guardian.co.uk/lifeandstyle/2012/jan/28/stop-clock-time-timepieces

New Year, New Coffee

I will try to blog more this year because 1) I am going to resolve my health problem once and for all so I don't have to give up coffee, 2) I miss being able to indulge my hobbies (and since it's been 10 years, I think this resolution deserves priority). I have much to report about recent activities -- coffee in Taiwan again, a lovely gift from New York, brewing techniques, and so much more.

To all coffee drinkers, may you consume good brews.
To non-coffee drinkers (like my wiser half MarshalN), I'll try to throw in some observations about coffee culture that do not require "touching that dark, nasty stuff." (not my words, naturally)

HK Magazine

Fresh off the Internet press from my favorite expatriate rag (yes, I'm trying to "go native" in the positive sense, but it's hard to cut oneself off from all things familiar and foreign)

http://hk.asia-city.com/city-living/article/coffee-philosophy

I hope that when things settle down with work in December, I can go visit some of these places.

Mood and Magic

My best friend sent me a link to an article about how coffee consumption is correlated with lower rates of depression in women. She joked about how not having coffee in the morning would make her very grouchy. My gut response was that such research findings could very well be true, since I have experienced more emotional challenges since having to reduce my coffee intake.

I realize that one could simply say that I am undergoing withdrawal symptoms. However, I tried to cut off all caffeine consumption in order to sharpen my mind for my graduate comprehensive exam (based on the research conclusions that caffeine actually makes one's brain fuzzier and less alert) -- oh, big mistake. I felt stuck in the middle stages of the famed Oatmeal cartoon about the emotional roller coaster all caffeine addicts ride on a daily basis [http://theoatmeal.com/comics/caffeine]. Physically, mentally, emotionally draining -- although far less severe pain in magnitude than what individuals who are refraining from heroin and other such drugs are said to endure.

As I have mentioned in previous posts, I do miss the activities related to drinking coffee, such as sitting in coffee houses, meeting with friends for coffee, and so on. I admit, I also miss the thrills of drinking coffee in the evenings and being tremendously more productive (whee!) I still drink coffee [like a wonderful white I had just hours ago at Simply Life (http://www.openrice.com/english/restaurant/sr2.htm?shopid=18912)] but I am also thinking about whether my coffee-drinking days will soon be over, a phenomenon I could never fathom when expressed by other people, but all the more comprehensible now.

Returning to Work

...in two senses of the phrase.
The academic year (for courses, not finances) started on 1 September, ending my summer routine heavy on research, light on pedagogy. I hope to maintain a more balanced "diet" of these activities this year, but I will have to be practical and meet all sorts of pressing obligations, usually associated with the latter category, so we will see...
I have also been taking a break from coffee to recover from some moderate ailments, and also on the advice of Chinese medicine physicians. I have tried to follow their orders to abstain from and then drink the absolute minimum amount of caffeinated beverages, which has been hard. I probably never had actual carte blanche to enjoy as much coffee as I want, but it is rather discouraging to think consciously about whether to have a cup of coffee on any given day.
With time, I hope to get back on the coffee drinking boat and continue writing this blog.

A Different Flavor

My parents and I share the view that for most of my life, I have not experienced homesickness whenever away from what "home of the moment" might be. For the first seventeen years of my life, I grew up in Oregon. I started to leave home for short periods, spanning a few days to three months, during summers. After starting college, my time away from Oregon increased to six or more months. By my fourth and final undergraduate year, I still referred to the place where I was born and raised as my hometown, but I enjoyed being a transplant with thin but tight roots in my college town. The college town became my home base for the subsequent ten years while I went back and forth from China, Taiwan, Korea, and very short trips to Europe. I said good-bye to that place three years ago to take up my first job away, and after two years, replaced it with the city in which I worked and lived. When WH took his job in yet another place, that town became "second home," but more out of respect for WH's presence there rather than because of genuine attachment.

I am sure some proverb exists about an experience occurring eventually, and for me, I finally started to feel subtle but explicit pangs of homesickness this past year. I could distinguish them from cultural shock, work-related stress, and all of the other emotions I expected to feel. I know that being a foreigner is always challenging, unless one is equipped with tremendous amounts of money, power, as well as vast support networks of friends, relatives, and subordinates to mitigate all the problems of marginalization. The critical difference between this "trip out" and all others preceding is that I plan to stay away and settle down in this new home city until death do we part. Resolving to make a long-term commitment (scarier and arguably less satisfying than promising one's all to spouse or children) has sapped a bit of the flavor out of my life, and inspired memories of my previous homes.

All of these thoughts relate to the coffee part of the blog in the sense that I began to enjoy coffee in the US and learned the ins and outs of such appreciation there. I hope that in the coming months, I will learn more about how a precious few manage to imbibe real coffee here in Hong Kong, and as such, how I can long less for places, in a trite way, that may only have flavored my past but not my future.

The Ironic Reality of Coffee Consumption

I have not been posting lately because 1) I have been spending most of my creative energy gearing up for the next round of conferences/publications, 2) expending what limited intellectual power I have after a busy and productive spring semester, I am tired.

Now the funny thing is that when I am exhausted, I cannot drink coffee.

Hmm -- one may think, "Isn't coffee the ultimate stimulant? A cup to open the eyes and start the day?"

A reasonable assumption.

However, my body must not adhere to that logic because I need to be sufficiently well-rested to ingest the first cup of the day, as well as any subsequent helpings within the next 24 hours.

I am also a bit odd in that coffee helps me perk up in the morning and allows me to sleep peacefully at night (I am still debating which side is the veritable correlation in modulating energy levels, whether up or down, and the other, the placebo effect). That bizarre formula, again, only works with enough investment in deep, uninterrupted sleep.

My cats, who arrived in Hong Kong two weeks ago, are still adjusting to their new home environment, and are therefore not sleeping through whole nights -- which means I am not doing so either (I plan to sell recordings of their violent shrieks either when fighting each other or demonstrating their individual martial prowess to companies who put together soundtracks for amusement park haunted houses). Perhaps when they are sleeping at least 6 hours in a row, I can start drinking coffee...

On another note: "W.H." is my abbreviation for "wiser half" -- a.k.a MarshalN, my husband and partner in every aspect of life -- never mind that he prefers tea over coffee...

Forward from the Guardian 1

I will strive to write my own material (and only take credit for what I write), but I can't help but sending some forwards along when I see them.

Having given up on the American media since Fox News started to become popular, I now rely on British intelligence (wit, sarcasm, and all) to understand the world around me. My political stance having become obvious with the previous sentence, I will say proudly that this bit of "other people's work" comes from my favorite news site "The Guardian"

http://www.guardian.co.uk/lifeandstyle/wordofmouth/2011/may/16/best-iced-coffee-frappuccino

Coffee Sophisticate

Coffee can be delicious for many different reasons. The first one for many drinkers is the sense of security that the beverage provides -- whether ensuring that one will be able to stagger out of the house in the morning, stay awake during vital meetings, or be able to meet a late-night deadline. The second is that coffees do not taste all the same so to have one that defies the negative stereotypes of "burnt tar" and "black acid" is rewarding in and of itself. A third reason I will pose here is that coffee goes well with many foods, so it contributes more taste to something else with taste. I know I am opening myself up for criticism on this front, since some people will strike the metaphor that coffee tastes like vodka (both liquids being essentially tasteless). I happen to like the taste of vodka too, so maybe my taste buds are the ones that should be scrutinized.

Onto the main topic, since I am offering due praise today, I can actually mention the subject of my blog openly. I am eternally grateful for websites, so the presentation of basic facts regarding any topic is done in a more refined and comprehensive way than I could do.

For those of you who have not been to Taipei, please go and experience the best of East Asian culture. Occasionally derided for being a "provincial metropolis" (oxymoron not withstanding) and second-tier compared to neighboring cities such as Tokyo and Hong Kong, it is actually the finest place in the region if one wants to enjoy productive blends of local and foreign culture at reasonable prices. Taipei's culture is neither flashy nor overly expensive, and is available in idiosyncratic doses all over the city, not just in dedicated "cultural districts" [a jibe at my current place of residence-->you can read about all the controversies regarding the West Kowloon C.D. --> for the pravda description, see http://www.wkcda.hk/]. Moreover, Taipei is a very inclusive place. The city's residents are generally friendly and welcome foreigners, two qualities found in lesser degrees within East Asia's other metropolitan zones. Therefore, all in all, Taipei is a soulful, multi-faceted place, preserving quality culture (high and low) in modest forms.

Jeanlook Coffee [http://www.jeanlook.com.tw/] embodies this spirit of Taipei. Two of my great friends from graduate school took me there as part of my first walk around a section of Da'an district that I had never explored before. We had dessert and coffee before a sumptuous and properly spicy Sichuanese dinner at Kiki's [http://www.kiki1991.com/]. Far from spoiling our appetites, the filtered coffee and sweets were perfect appetizers, bracing our stomachs for peppercorns and chilis galore. Moreover, the ambiance of Jeanlook, where one can have a quick cup upstairs at the to-go stand or descend into the cavernous basement to watch the baristas (literally working in an eye-level open configuration much like a sushi bar) and chat with friends while listening to instrumental jazz pumped in at a delicate volume. One barista worked steadily on extracting one pot of siphon coffee for the full hour that we were there, methodically working through each step with the solemnity of a religious officiant. Behind him, a board advertised courses on coffee science (brewing, tasting, appraising) aimed, I imagined, at attracting participants who treat coffee as a topic of intellectual pursuit.

I admit that I may have been attracted to Jeanlook for the qualities that I rarely enjoy in other establishments. Jeanlook gained many points for not being crowded, having polite customers who were not trying to show off, and moreover, looked like they were savoring the taste of their coffee, neither falsely nor pretentiously. Furthermore, Jeanlook reminds me of a coffee place that has featured on Wiser Half's blog [http://www.marshaln.com/?s=Jaho], Jaho Coffee in Salem, Massachusetts [http://www.jaho.com/pages/about-us]. Jeanlook is more European than Jaho, whether in interior design, food and beverage portion sizes, and such, but both places share the same understated sophistication which makes drinking coffee (quietly) pleasurable...

A Brand by Any Other Name

I hesitate to criticize or incriminate, so I will have to leave all identifying details out of this entry. I imagine that this "leak" may inspire legal action (my mindset reflects my thorough indoctrination as a born and bred American...). Going along with this caveat is the friends/location I cannot identify along with the actual information regarding coffee.

On a purely theoretical level, if I may, I was intrigued on a recent trip by a coffee shop that uses cup sleeves from other establishments. My friends are regulars there, and the service is efficient and friendly, generous and professional. The coffee is the right temperature, flavor, and impact (knock your socks off and peel your eyes open). Nothing else would distinguish this place from any other of its caliber. However, one is temporary amused and disoriented by the cup sleeves that bear logos of nearby purveyors.

Sourcing is one issue -- strike one in the legal world. One wonders where the management procure all of these holders. Are they made, as many things in Asia are, to order by the "generic cup sleeve factory"--discards or extras from orders by other companies? Certainly one possibility, if the coffee shop owner is a friend or relative of the cup sleeve factory owner/manager.

Another problem is the ethics of advertising. One could say that sitting in Store A, enjoying a perfectly brewed cuppa, there is little temptation to visit Store B, as advertised on the cup sleeve. In fact, one may be so glad not to be at Store B and at Store A instead. That could be one way of promoting Store A. However, since the cup sleeves are intended to strengthen the bond between customer and said store, our anonymous Store A could be accused of contravening and downright distorting that process.

All philosophical musings aside, I admire the ingenuity and pragmatism of Store A. I will sometimes keep cup sleeves with unusual logos or that are associated with special memories. However, most are dutifully placed in the paper recycling bin, to be reincarnated again and again.

Just Cold

Sometimes a girl just needs a cold one...

I have just enough alcohol tolerance to be a cheap date so inasmuch as I would like to be swilling fine Belgian ales on a hot spring evening (yes, Hong Kong is already moving into hot monsoon season...), the best I can do is to drink cold espressos.

My wiser half and I discovered the beauty of caffe freddo during our trip to Italy as part of a family Holy Land tour (fear not--we were agnostic, atheist, and lapsed Catholic pilgrims). W.H. doesn't drink coffee but he was impressed by the agitating technique as utilized in preparing martinis, pulverizing ice and blending it with espresso (doppio, methinks) before pouring the frothy product over more ice or serving it as is.

I was shocked silly that my coffee-deriding spouse would be so excited about such a beverage, but discovering iced coffee in its ideal form was a highlight of our trip and has become an occasional topic of fond reminiscence. It has also become a dire necessity in present weather conditions (am not complaining, as I fear the cold-climates).

Back in my old neighborhood of Tsim Sha Tsui for a half-hour, I decided to spend my time finishing up some notes for a paper and to inspire my thinking (see The Oatmeal: http://theoatmeal.com/comics/caffeine), I needed coffee. I wasn't hanging out with people or "to be seen" in a posh establishment but geography and thirst drew me to the Espressamente Illy cafe at the K11 Art Mall. I don't know it is called an art mall, but it's very surreal... [http://www.k11concepts.com/en/]

I had just spent a glorious day with my nephew romping around Ocean Park [http://www.oceanpark.com.hk/html/en/home/] for 5 hours, and was ragged in appearance (but very upbeat in spirit -- nothing like the young to revive one's crusty 33-year-old soul). The counter server eyed me delicately with the "I'm too polite to comment on why you don't belong in our sophisticated establishment" but since she didn't say a word nor try to shun me, I went ahead and ordered up an espresso freddo for the dear price of HKD28 [today's rate: $3.60 -- for shame, I know!]

The counter server motioned for me to sit down at one of the twelve-odd tables and wait quietly for my beverage. My fellow customers were a motley bunch of expatriate families, local artists (as one could tell from their conversations), and elderly gentlemen of both local and non-local variety dozing off to low-volume bossa nova and clicking of spoons and saucers.

My espresso freddo arrived in a tall, slim glass with a bendy-top straw practically centered in the middle of the Guinness (stout) colored liquid. (I don't drink but I do see alcohol from time to time) The server also brought a similar-sized glass of ice water. The espresso itself did not come with ice but was perfectly cold, and included a hint of sugar. Each of twenty sips was powerful, no sense at all of being watered down in the cooling and blending process. It certainly seems impossible to have so much flavor with no compromise or consistency of taste, but this cafe manages the challenge. I also felt much better for spending 30 minutes to try it.

Hot and Cold

[I have realized that writing a blog requires immense discipline, which my Wiser Half possesses and I sorely lack. My sole excuse for starting but not finishing several entries (so when it rains, it may indeed pour) is that I procrastinate in every other aspect of my life with the thing called work. It's the end of the academic year here, which means there is enough work to fill all 24 official hours of each day and then some. Being 2 inches close from Paradise does not mean that one is there. However, when my schedule becomes more flexible and I am in a better mood because I'm focusing on research rather than juggling all three "spheres" of my professional workload, I will probably write more...]

I am an unlikely fan of Katy Perry (my students are absolutely shocked that I know and appreciate her work), but this post is not about her or her mind-numbingly catchy hit song [http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ms9IxBXuJbs].

Rather, my mind turns to the notion of coffee and gelato being served in the same establishment, as in the Holly Brown stores [http://www.hollybrowncoffee.com/].

As mentioned in my last post, I am still gleefully terrified of Hong Kong island because my mental compass is now squarely centered in Kowloon. However I try to make the most of my ignorance and anxiety about the area to discover new haunts by accident.

I found Holly Brown while I was walking laps around the Central district waiting for a friend. I didn't want to get completely lost since I wanted to return to our designated rendezvous point on time when she called. However I was also starting to feel rather strange taking notes and muttering to myself in front of the Coach leatherware store (normal behavior for an academic, bizarre and troubling for the rest of the world).

The storefront attracts customers seeking cold refreshment with the broad counter on the right-hand side of the entrance. Holly Brown offers the typical 10+ flavors in barrels and two or three more "on tap." One can get several toppings, ensuring a typically pleasant experience of sweet, icy, and if one chooses the frozen yogurt rather than the gelato, milky dessert.

I entered the place with my friend when we met up, and only after ordering our yogurt snacks did I realize that we could have chosen coffee. The coffee counter is recessed on the left-hand side of the gelato/yogurt counter, arranged so that one must literally walk further into the shop and look around to see the plated desserts, pastries, and espresso bar. If one walks all the way to the back of the first-floor (another floor exists quietly, with washroom), the set of large roasting equipment serves to confirm Holly Brown's claim of preparing their own beans.

The coffee bean menu, an accordion style brochure, features thirteen entries. Each entry consists of the bean type (varietal), relevant flag, and several bullet points, each marked by an indeterminate bean image. Points stress the historical significance of the bean and the commercial value. All the beans seem exquisite and worth the stiff prices that they are sold for.

From front to back, the brochure features:

* Kopi Luwak (coffee beans processed in a civet's digestive system before washed and ground for human consumption, which MarshalN says is ample proof that coffee drinkers are strange)
* Jamaica Blue Mountain
* Hawaii Kona
* Brazil Bourbon
* Cafe de Cuba Serrano Lavado
* Nepalese Terai
* Ethiopian Harrar
* Ethiopian Yirgacheffe
* Guatamala (that's it...?!)
* Indonesian Sumatra Mandheling
* Panama Bouquet (a first for me, supposedly "one of the finest coffees to be found, but sounds suspiciously like a blend of random beans)
* Papua New Guinea Sigri Estate
* Tanzania

All of the bean varietals are packaged in the same signature blue and brown bags bearing the Holly Brown logo. Unlike Starbucks and Pacific Coffee, among other chains, Holly Brown does not provide any stereotypical images of a particular varietal's origins. Consumers cannot readily associate a bean with its homeland. In some ways, this practice is refreshing. One might say that "coffee is coffee" so any national and other loyalties are overstated. Terrain and other environmental conditions do matter, but since we know governments rise and fall, a new name for a country should not affect the qualities of its coffee. On the other hand, the uniformity in packaging inspires suspicions about whether the coffee is properly sorted. Is one really consuming what one buys?

Back to the gelato question, the two-product arrangement in the cafe has expected advantages and disadvantages. Customers in groups of two or more can accommodate varying preferences or prolong their meetings by consuming one thing then another. Both the gelato and coffee sides offer courteous and professional service and keep their goods distinctly separate. There is no self- or cafe-imposed segregation so one must love the aromas of both gelato and coffee, because they co-mingle in the air. Purists who can't stand one or the other will be frustrated.

I had a flavorful latte there with a chocolate croissant for an indulgent dessert a few weeks later, and my innate bias aside, thought it was better than my frozen yogurt order. I will probably go again when I'm worn out from wandering around Central.