Baristas, Quality and Waste

Most of the following waffle is heavily influenced by Eric Laurier’s Cappuccino Community papers, available, here:

Monday 14th July saw the official new opening of the Darlington Caffe Nero. Our nearest branch of Nero closed down

The new Darlington store

in March when the bookshop that housed it, also closed. Now we have a brand new one that is a shop in its own right, not hiding within another business. It’s right on the market square, a great location allowing it to have a pavement cafe as well, and it looks all new and shiny and inviting. The Official Launch involved hundreds of Nero-blue balloons all over the tables, and anxious looking new staff in trainee t-shirts nervously getting everyone to fill in customer comments cards. I was feeling mean and awkward so I got the new baristas to make me double espressos: the simplest drink in terms of content, but the hardest to make successfully. One was a pretty good attempt. The other wasn’t.

Four new staff were obviously undergoing their “week of intensive training” that they have to complete before being allowed to serve customers unsupervised. For a new store, this is quite an epic task in that all the staff need training at the same time. Stacey, the original assistant manager, was back, frantically trying to help her new flock. They had also roped in John, the manager at the Durham branch to over see things. The area manager, Kirsten, also put in an appearance although she was less concerned with the staff training. These few were in charge of getting four new staff up to speed within the first few days of opening.

Laurier’s Cappuccino Community project talks about his experiences training as a Barista in Caffe Nero back in 2002. I am intrigued to see if anything has changed much in the last five years. I also did this Nero training in June 2007, and the Shift Leader training last September as well. Unlike Laurier, I stayed at Nero for six months so I probably have a different perspective; I’ve also done similar barista training at other companies, and know that there are considerable differences in how you are trained to make the perfect coffee, depending on the company.

Laurier rightly points out that ‘barista’ is usually a low-status job, or at least that is how it is perceived by the general public. Before getting coffee-obsessed and actually trying it, I regarded Nero/Starbucks/Costa employment as “McJobs” – that is, working for a huge corporation, in a relatively unskilled, minimum wage job, few careers prospects and very quick staff turnover. As it turns out, I was right. Nero pay their baristas minimum wage, get round legal break regulations by saying you can have as many ‘refreshments’ as you want during your shift (eg: you can make yourself coffee whenever) and therefore you can be left on a ten hour shift with only a 20 minute lunch break. It is possible to progress within the company quite quickly if you’re keen and work hard, but given that shift leaders get a mere 20p extra per hour above minimum wage, most employees do not see it as an incentive. It is not a job you an ever actually live off comfortably, even if you work 40 hours a week as I was doing at first. However, when faced with very little alternative, I was relieved to find that I actually really enjoyed it.

In contrast to the social perception, the company itself tries to give the job high status. Caffe Nero prides itself on the quality of its coffee, and therefore, also on the quality of the barista’s skills. All coffee shops need to compete with each other – especially the big chains, and so in the lack of many other differences, they all promote the quality of the coffee and of the staff. Staff training is crucial for this. But, as already pointed out, as the staff turnover is very high (the average job-span of a barista in Nero is around 6 months. Apparently I am typical!) and as a result, there is a constant need for staff training.

Well trained, skilled baristas supposedly make better quality coffee. This is a fairly obvious point, but somehow it gets lost in translation. If most of the public consider barista work as a ‘McJob’ or similar, they cannot fully appreciate the skills of the barista. I’d like to know whether this affects the consumer’s perception of the quality of the actual coffee.

Not too many customers to deal with yet...

In actual fact, being a barista is a very skilled job. The Gaggia machines in Caffe Nero stores are all hand operated: baristas have to set the grind of the coffee, pull out the right amount of it, tamp it correctly, and time the pour of the espresso. They have to have a good knowledge of the appearance of the espresso as well, in order to recognise bad ones. For most drinks they then have to froth milk to the correct consistency and present the drink attractively and perfectly. Add to this, basic, friendly customer service skills (including the six service steps which have to be repeated for every customer, and remembering regular customer’s names and favourite orders), food preparation and service, operating the (often infuriating) EPOS til systems, completing all the daily quality checks on coffee, health and safety checks on food prep areas, storage and fridges, and sort out the cleaning rota.If you are a shift leader, you also have to cash up, reorder stock and handle deliveries, and organise and motivate your team. Speed is also a skill which has to be learned and perfected. Caffe Nero need staff who can make high quality coffees quickly and consistently. Espresso is after all, supposed to be ‘express’. The job is both physically and mentally demanding, and I would argue that the main skill utilised is the ability to work quickly under pressure and remain cheerful!

In Caffe Nero, I found that the baristas require an intense knowledge of the Gaggia machine; there seems to be more emphasis on this than on the actual coffee going in to it. This is because Caffe Nero only serve its own blend of coffee, and only offer espresso-based coffee drinks. There is no variety of coffee beans to contend with and only one method of preparation. The machine has to be correctly calibrated; checked and tweaked twice a day. After a while, you begin to learn to intricacies of it, and the machine’s “personality”. The second group head on the right at the Durham branch always poured slightly faster than it should. The grinder at the original Darlington store wobbled its way out of line if it got busy and over-used and the grind had to be reset half way through the day as a result. One of the handles got loose and baristas had to avoid losing it into the bin when tapping out the used coffee. When you spend eight or nine hours a day, bashing out several hundred drinks from this thing, you do get finely attuned it its mood swings. The machine requires far more gentle encouragement and friendly treatment than the customers ever did.

That is not to say, however, that Nero baristas do not engage with the coffee at all. In fact, there is a constant need to check the espressos being made. Each one is checked visually – if it looks right, it can be served. It has to be about 30ml, with a thick ‘hazelnut’ coloured crema on top that shouldn’t disappear too quickly. After a while, (ie: with practice) you just know that it’s right. You acquire the skill and the knowledge of the required quality. Visual quality checks are the only pragmatic form of checks – baristas cannot obviously taste each one, and probably wouldn’t want to. Caffe Nero ask on employee application forms whether or not the applicant drinks coffee. In my experience, a lot of the employees there did not like the stuff at all and refused to drink it. However, Nero do encourage you to sample. I still believe that knowing what the coffee you are making actually tastes like goes a long way to improving the quality of the coffee in the long run.

Unfortunately, the only way to really learn barista skills is through practice. This is obviously problematic because you cannot ‘practice’ on paying customers. If you spoil a customers drink, they simply won’t pay, and it will get wasted. Alternatively, if you practice making coffees before the customers arrive, or during quiet periods, unless the barista drinks all her attempts herself, all her practice will inevitably lead to waste. The saving grace is often the trainee t-shirt. Trainee baristas are given maroon coloured t-shirts with “TRAINEE” in big letters. This acts as a warning to the customer, and can be used as a multi-purpose excuse for mistakes, a conspicuous sign meaning “Don’t blame me, I’ve only just started!”. I, like many others, tried to retain my red t-shirt for as long as possible as a sort of safety net. Caffe Nero have a policy of ‘No crema, no serva!’ – meaning, if the espresso is made badly, with no crema on top, you have to chuck it away and start again. As Laurier pointed out, this tends to worry trainees, who think that redoing the espresso will annoy the customer and slow things up. Caffe Nero maintain that it actually impresses the customer, and shows that the barista really cares about the quality of the coffee. Again, I intend to find out from customers if this actually works.

There is a little wiggle-room in espresso service, even within Caffe Nero with all its rigorous checks. Baristas are encouraged to judge the customer depending on what they order. It is a fair assumption that people who order single espressos or even ristrettos probably care more about the coffee than people coming in asking for flavoured, single-shot lattes. As such, the barista can put more care and effort into making the espresso, possibly more so than for the latte drinkers. A labour saving device which quality-controls never usually admit to.

John explains that Yes, it is dead hard!

All this is a lot to take in. Laurier admits to feeling overwhelmed by his own barista training. I heard one of the new recruits at the Darlington Nero wailing

“It’s dead hard! Especially when everyone is new. There’s so little time to get it right!”

It is a highly skilled, difficult job, and one which has to be learned very quickly in a high pressure environment. However, the emphasis on training and skills adds value to the end product – high quality coffee inevitably requires knowledge and skills and also, unavoidably produces waste.

Genuine Italian Quality?

(NB: This is a follow up for uni – I started a discussion on here a while ago asking why coffee is perceived to be Italian at least in the UK. These are just some thoughts and experiences on that topic)

Walking round Darlington town centre gives you a relatively large selection of places to get cups of coffee. There are numerous ‘traditional tea rooms’ where coffee is an afterthought, and greasy-spoon cafes who will do instant Nescafe in a polystyrene cup. And then there is two Costas, a Caffe Nero and the brand new Starbucks. So far, so uninteresting. Darlington does boast a few independent cafes, however: The Voodoo Cafe which I am still too biased to express an opinion about, Coffee Bamber – an expensive-looking place which, commendably, only sells FairTrade coffee, and “Coffee @ Elliotts.” This company actually has two branches now on either side of town, and I decided to try it out.
Coffee @ Elliotts is done out quite attractively, all art deco with huge chandeliers, ornate mirrors, heavy wooden furniture and the odd bust dotted around on shelves. There are also lots of sepia pictures of old style continental pavement cafes with titles in… French?
This is surprising. I had honestly expected the elusive Elliott to pretend to be Italian. Costa claims to serve Italian-style coffee, Caffe Nero are so Italian they’ve even added the extra ‘f’, Starbucks was apparently inspired by Italian espresso bars… Admittedly, I don’t know enough about Coffee Bamber to know if it claims Italianess or not, and I tried to make the Voodoo Cafe as Latino as possible, but otherwise it is a safe presumption that most coffee shops have some Italian connection. Elliotts does serve espresso, cappuccinos, lattes, and all the rest, but also apparently sell ‘coffee’ as well, without giving it an Italian identity. All drinks come in ‘regular’ or ‘large’ as opposed to ‘grande’ or even ‘venti’. Although the emphasis is on coffees, they also serve panninis and biscottis, but also plain sandwiches, cakes and jacket potatoes. None of which sound particularly continental.

The coffee at Elliott’s wasn’t bad at all, and was actually cheaper than the bigger chains. And then I found out why – they were using a Bean-to-Cup machine, which is about the same size as a Gaggia espresso maker and works on the same principle, but doesn’t require the same human input. This machine will make espresso-based coffee, but only requires that you fill it up with beans, water and fresh milk in different compartments, and press the right button depending on what you want. It presses the coffee and steams the milk all by itself, and the ‘barista’ just has to put a cup underneath.

This makes the coffee cheaper – not because it is cheaper to run, or cheaper on staff costs; the baristas are still there to bring your coffees to you and cash up etc. It is cheaper, I think, because it requires less skill to produce. And also, less showmanship. Making coffee like this, looks easier to anyone watching. Therefore, value cannot be added to it by making it look more skilled. The process does not look sufficiently complex to warrant charging more to compensate for the skilled labour involved. This sort of coffee is less of a luxury.

This does not mean, however, that anyone could do it. It is still highly unlikely for many people to have a bean-to-cup machine at home, and so the luxury of having someone make it for you is still there. Even with a machine like that, there still has to be some product knowledge involved. An example is that the coffee from Interval bar at Sheffield university also comes from a bean-to-cup machine, just like at Elliotts. Elliotts coffee is infinitely better tasting however. Baristas still need to know how to maintain the machine, set it to the right temperatures and pressure, and what coffee to put in it. Elliotts coffee tasted as good, if not better, than Caffe Nero’s equivalent, whereas the coffee at Interval is somewhere between burnt and stale and possibly flavoured with ground up car tyres. This, to me, implies that there is more to making coffee than just which machine you choose.

As shown by the Barista Championships, there is a lot of skill, art and showmanship that goes in to making espresso based coffees, and the fact that these competitions, and this style of coffee-making are still so popular implies that it is still what consumers want – there must be a specific selling point to make the coffee shops invest in Gaggia machines and in training their staff. If the bean-to-cup machines were as good – and they are quicker, more efficient and dare I say it, convenient, then Starbucks and Nero would use them and the art of the barista wouldn’t be so called for. Something has to make the ‘real’ espresso coffees of higher quality.

I would argue that it is the Italianess that is that selling point. Italianess is part of the ‘experience’ which the big brands are so keen to promote. Caffe Nero, for instance, want to offer the experience of a old fashioned Italian espresso bar and continental cafe. It gives the coffee, and this ‘experience’ an identity, which is very important to the brand, Being ‘Italian’ not only makes the place sound sophisticated and if not exotic, then certainly different to the quaint English tea rooms, it also adds an element of performance. Espresso was invented and perfected in Italy, the first espresso machines were designed and patented by Italians. This style also happens to require more skilled human input, more visual techniques and as such, more labour. Increasing the labour involved increases the value of the end-product, the customer perceives it to be of better quality entirely because of the added labour-value, and so espresso coffees become more expensive. This could be the main reason why coffee shops, like Coffee @ Elliotts become Italian, when they are on Darlington high street, run by Americans and get their coffee beans from Brazil.

What the hell I think I’m doing

Even the words terrify me now. “Upgrade Proposal”. I have to write exactly what I want to do with this project, 4000 words, and then a panel interview to defend The Plan. I’ve still got a couple of months, but it is now becoming obvious that before I can convince other people that this is a good, plausible idea, I need to figure out once and for all what that idea actually is.

I’ve been faffing. Farting around with vaguely academic concepts and seeing how they could possibly be applied to my main obsession of the moment: coffee. I am employed to work on the Waste of the World project, which incorporates a lot of different themes, but focuses on reexamining what we think of as ‘waste’ in social terms. Our “team” – that is, Joby, Anna and I, are charged with research the concept of Food Waste. To me, this meant Coffee Waste.

There are a lot of different forms of ‘waste’ in the coffee industry. Physical waste on the plantations – what happens to coffee that doesn’t sell? What happens if the crops are diseased? What happens if the roaster screws up somehow? And then at the retailers – what about all the crap espressos trainee baristas make that cannot be served? Then there is all the branded packaging – most of it can be recycled, but generally isn’t.And even if you throw away your branded cup, is it somehow worth it if you have become slightly more aware of that brand? Storage packaging: if you don’t store it right, the coffee goes stale and you have to throw it. If you do store it well, you can’t recycle the foil bags…

And then there is the idea of waste of knowledge. An infinite and complex array of skills go in to this industry, everything from grading green beans, roasting to perfection, to baristas drawing rosettas as latte art on the top of our drink.. Does all the effort that’s gone in to making the coffee get wasted if the bored barista screws it up in the shop? And even if she gets it perfect, is all that expertise wasted on customers who come in for their venti, 1-shot decaf syruped-to-hell soy crappyfrappemockacino and then go home and drink instant?

Most significantly though, is trying to find whether or not all this waste, physical and conceptual, is actually necessary. If there is a demonstrable demand for high quality, speciality coffees in the UK, and if these specialty coffees inevitably create more waste to produce, then the waste is justified. However, if in the UK we are still clinging to our teapots and drinking Nescafe instant, or perhaps, going to Caffe Nero or Starbucks for the ‘lifestyle’ – buying in to the brand, for instance rather than the coffee itself, then the waste involved in this industry becomes meaningless.

How do I go about answering all these questions? The anthropologist in me is bouncing up and down going “Participant Observation!” “Multi-site ethnography!” I don’t know if human-geographers have other methods, but good ol’ PO sounds appealing to me. With emphasis on the PARTICPANT bit. I WANT to see what it’s like to pick coffee: I am going to a tiny co-op farm in Nicaragua, and a big commercial farm in Costa Rica. I would love to learn how to roast coffee professionally, so I am going to try and find an independent roaster and the one that supplies a big chain like Caffe Nero. Finally, I want to see if my own barista experience is ‘typical’ of the industry, and so I intend to compare the goings on in an independent cafe (hopefully, Gusto Italiano in Sheffield) and at a branch of Caffe Nero. Constantly comparing big and small, independent and commercial will, I hope, give a better all-round view of the industry…

So, I’ve got a lot of Ideas, and when I get really into this, I buzz… it’s exciting, I want to get on with it!! But, first, I’ve just got to translate all of the above into formal academic speak, then add in references and inteliigent sounding theory, and then timescales and costings and … aaaaaaaargh. Bureaucracy and academic prostitution!! aaaargh indeed! Sometimes, the fact that I have a certain responsibility to the uni to produce intensive, innovative, accessible and practical research is enough to crush any creativity and enthusiasm. I am Lost in Caffienation, again.

Not Spilling the Beans – Barista Championships 2008

When I got my first job in a coffee shop I thought, “I like coffee, that machine looks fun – how hard can it be?”. I was more worried about burning the food in the café or how I was going to amuse the scary looking emo teenagers in the corner than what sort of coffee was going to go into that strange noisy hopper on the worktop. I’d used the coffee machine when I worked in the pub; it involved sticking a cup underneath and pressing a button. I could cope with that. All would be well.
That was 2006, and in the last eighteen months my views on these things have changed a great deal, especially after my experiences over the last few days.

Caffe Nero, according to their website, pride themselves on their coffee, referring to ‘the art of the barista’. All employees – baristas – ‘undergo days of intensive training before being allowed to serve an espresso.’ When I started working there, I can’t say I much noticed the intensity of the training; I had already done some barista training at Pumphreys Coffee House for my previous job, and as such, assumed I knew what I was doing. All I had to learn now was how to make coffees ‘The Nero Way.’ It is fair to say that everything in Caffe Nero is branded somehow, even down to the exact proportions of foam, milk and espresso that go in to the cappuccino. You can’t just serve ‘any’ cappuccino, it has to be a Nero Cappuccino, and as petty as it sounds, there are some glaring differences.

These differences become very apparent when it came to Barista Championship competitions. The Speciality Coffee Association of Europe hold regional and national competitions for baristas to show their skills and compete for a place in the World Barista Championship. Last year’s World Champion barista was James Hoffman from the UK, who luckily for me, happened to turn up at Pumphreys Coffee House when I trained there. I met a coffee celebrity! He was also one of the main judges for the UK regional finals this year. The competitors in these Barista championships took the event very very seriously, and not just because of the cash prize and prestige on offer for the World Champion. This competition is a culmination of a lot of practice, a lot of skill and a lot of hard work perfecting what is essentially an art form.

Meanwhile, Caffe Nero also hold their own Barista of the Year competition. The northern heat was held in Newcastle on 22nd January, and I tagged along to support some friends and former colleagues. Although the area manager described the event as ‘a bit of fun’ and the sheer quantity of free beer, the cheerleading efforts and the ‘Prize for Best Team Song’ seemed to demonstrate this, the specially made t-shirts saying “Barista of the Year 2008 Finalist” on them, and the prizes – a trip to New York and a chance to meet Nero CEO Gerry Ford – suggested that the competition did have a serious side.

In the northern region, there were thirteen competitors, representing the Nero stores in Durham, Darlington, Ripon, Gosforth, Newcastle, South Shields, Berwick and Hexham. Each store manager had put forward one or two baristas judged to be the best in the team. Their efforts were judged by regional managers and Nero ‘Coffee Maestros’ from other parts of the country. The Newcastle Caffe was not exactly a huge venue, and so only two baristas could compete at once, using different sides of the same Gaggia machine. Each side had two double handles, a grinder and a milk wand, and so technically speaking each barista could have potentially made four drinks at once. But as the area manager, Kirsten, announced beer bottle in hand: “Please don’t use the second handle on the left for espresso, its a bit dodgy…” Since espressos are the basis for all the drinks made in the competition, this should have been a bit of a hindrance, but it didn’t seem to make any difference at all!

The first two rounds were timed; the first challenge was to make a cappuccino, a latte and a single espresso shot in three minutes. The second was three medium cappuccinos in four minutes. After judging each, competitors with the least points, or those who ran out of time, were eliminated. Eventually, it was down to four baristas, Michael from Ripon, Frost from Gosforth, Becky from Hexham, and Steve from Durham. These four then had to make another series of drinks, this time without being timed. They just had to make the best drinks they could. From these, the judges picked the final two, Michael and Frost. The final round was to make a hot chocolate, a mocha, a latte and an espresso. After four attempts at his espresso, Frost eventually won the competition, and crowned the Northern region’s Barista of the Year. Celebrations were very noisy, but only Steve from Durham seemed remotely gutted about losing the chance to meet his hero, the enigmatic Gerry.

More significant from the point of view of a trainee barista, was why Frost won. The judges were looking for various aspects of Nero coffee making, but not all of them immediately obvious. The emphasis of the competition was very much on Nero-ness – a bit of fun to get all the teams socialising together, but also more subtly, to reiterate the brand. One of the qualities of a good barista at Caffe Nero is the possession of good customer service skills, and a happy barista who is having fun is generally better at serving customers. More specifically, a happy barista who can make good coffees consistently, repetitively and very quickly is even better for the company. The point of testing competitors’ ability to make three cappuccinos in four minutes was to see if they could actually keep it up – anyone can make one decent cappuccino once, but it takes some skill to do it over and over again during an eight or nine hour shift, while maintaining a sense of humour.

As mentioned before, a Nero Cappuccino is a very specific thing as well. In a 15oz cup, there is supposed to be double shot of espresso (1/3 of the mug) one third hot milk, and one third dry milk foam. And chocolate on the top. In this case, Caffe Nero HQ tends to be fiddling while the cappuccinos burn. What shocked me, even though I know the company pretty well now, was that the judges did not even bother to taste the coffees made. The cappuccinos were poked to test the depth of froth, lattes were stirred to check consistency, and the espressos were timed to see if they poured for the correct 15 seconds (which would be woefully underextracted in any other circumstances). But no one actually tried them, there was no test of flavour. They just had to look right. However, it is very possible to make coffees that look great but taste foul, so I asked why they weren’t tasted and was told there was no need; the judges could see how well it was made anyway. “It’s not the Barista’s fault if the coffee isn’t good.” This worried me a great deal. If the coffee itself ‘isn’t good’ then this doesn’t say much about Nero as a company: area managers do not even believe their own marketing. More to the point, the very people in charge of judging the standards of drinks for the whole company are seemingly unaware that even if the coffee itself is high quality, it can still be ruined by being prepared badly by the barista. Coffee is NOT “just coffee”, cappuccinos should not be made just to look pretty, and it is very disappointing to think that the brand that got voted the UK consumer’s favourite for the past seven years still thinks like this.

To make sure, I went round sneaking mouthfuls of everyone’s attempts whenever I could. Some were very much better than others. However, none had anything like complexity that I was to experience the next day. The very next morning I eventually got myself to Edinburgh to see the Scottish heat of the official UK Barista championship. This was a much more serious affair. Fourteen competitors throughout the day, four ‘coffee’ judges including last year’s World Champion, and two technical judges, testing the way the baristas used the machines. Anyone could put themselves forward for the competition as long as they had two years experience in the industry, and you competed as an individual not as a representative of a particular company. Apart from the fact the whole event was sponsored by La Spaziale who make the espresso machines, it was relatively devoid of commercial propaganda. More interestingly, not one of the entrants in this heat came from a big chain coffee shop – no Nero, Costa or Starbucks baristas here.

Every competitor had the same task – to make four espresso shots, four cappuccinos and four of their own speciality drinks inside 15 minutes. They could use whatever blend of coffee they liked, and most took the time to explain to the judges what they were using and why, showing that they really actually knew the blend. Interestingly, one entrant, Andrew Mundy, used a single estate coffee from Cachoeira Fazenda, or Waterfall Farm in northern Brazil. Cachoeira Fazenda has won a great many awards, and is apparently one of the ingredients in Caffe Nero’s house blend, implying that Caffe Nero coffee really shouldn’t be dismissed so easily.

The four judges probably suffered severe sensory overload by the end of the day, having to taste three drinks from all fourteen competitors. They gave marks out of six for the taste and balance of the espresso, and the ‘tactile balance’ of it, how full bodied it was for instance. The cappuccinos were again graded on balance and consistency, but also temperature so as they were not too hot to drink like at Nero. Finally, the signature drinks were graded on flavour and also quality of the espresso base. Baristas also got points for technique and use of the machine. They were penalised for wastage – grinding too much coffee, or frothing too much milk, or even pouring away spoilt drinks, not that anyone needed to. They also lost points if they went over the fifteen minutes performance time.

Personally, I loved the signature drinks. By far the best part of the day from the audience’s point of view was the fact that after the judges finished their analysis, the drinks were passed round for the rest of us to try. The signature drinks could be anything that involved espresso, that could be made inside the allotted time, and did not involve alcohol. My personal favourites were the truly bizarre ones: ‘Sun, sea and sand’, by Paulo Tanzillo involved risotto rice in the bottom of a glass, with espresso poured on the top, and finished off by topping it with a bright yellow cream made of whipped egg whites and lemon juice. It tasted a bit like bitter lemon meringue pie! Others included Leo Ventisei’s ‘Agua Dulce’ which was espresso with a slice of crushed lemon in the bottom and the glass crusted with sugar, it tasted stupendously good in my humble opinion. Kirsten Olsen made a drink inspired by the coffee’s origins – Brazilian, and mixed her espresso with avocado and lime. David Fraser served his drinks in tiny biscuit barrels, and used blended up ginger biscuits in his coffee.

I admit, I was a little disappointed with some of the winners, not because I thought they shouldn’t win, but because they were not the most interesting! Third place went to Agnes from Kilimanjaro Coffee in Glasgow, who made a signature drink infused with orange blossom and vanilla. First place went to Gillian Campbell with her iced drink with orange and chocolate. These were very, very good, if not the most original! However, it was the espressos and cappuccinos that won it – complete with latte art rosettas. Signature drinks are wonderful, but in most coffee shops, standard coffees are the most important thing, and this is recognised even at national competition level.

In a totally non-biased fashion, I was very pleased when Stuart Archer from Pumphreys Coffee House in Newcastle came second. Whereas I just got mouthfuls of the other competitors’ drinks to test, I’ve been lucky enough to sample Stuart’s coffee properly outside of competition circumstances, and it is very good indeed. Although he claims he spoilt his cappuccinos, the judges obviously didn’t think so. His signature drink sounded not only bizarre, but pretty disgusting too – espresso infused with garlic, and laced with chocolate. Debating whether to hold my nose first, I tried it, and contrary to expectations, it really worked. The garlic didn’t actually kill the coffee, and somehow brought out its natural sweet smoky taste. Not something I think many coffee shops will be offering on the menus very soon, but certainly an interesting treat.

Stuart and the other two winners will go through to the national final, held in London next month, and the winner of that event will represent the UK at the World Barista Championship in Copenhagen in May, and of course, whichever coffee shop this person works for will be able to advertise the fact to their own advantage. The Nero Barista of the Year will get a special t-shirt and the store he represents will be able to use the fact they have the best Barista in the company in their own marketing. But what other purpose is there to the competitions? Barista championships are like
any other industry awards: recognising talent and skill in the particular field, and to reward hard work, or act as an incentive to excel. But essentially, coffee is a beverage, designed for human consumption. The displays of coffee making prowess at the SCAE competitions are artistically and creatively excellent, but these are not the sort of drinks you will get served at an average coffee shop. In short, they are not actually designed for regular consumption – at most, they are a luxury afforded only to those who bother to seek out the independent coffee shops that serve speciality coffees and employ world class baristas (which are few and far between in this country). At worst, they are art for art’s sake, and remain relatively unconnected with the regular coffee shop industry as a whole. As former UK Barista champion, pointed out: “The British are at the ‘Blue Nun’ stage of coffee drinking.” Put more simply, we are not yet coffee gourmets, and in this country there is little place in the market for such luxury, and elitist, drinks.

Caffe Nero, in comparison, may not take the idea of barista awards so seriously, and may not be judged by the same standards, but the coffees made in the competition are exactly what the customer will receive when they visit a Caffe Nero store. This cannot be said of the SCAE competition. The Nero awards are designed to uphold their own standards throughout the company, and to reward talented employees, which it can be argued, is a much more practical reason for holding the competition. There is no doubt that the coffees at the SCAE competition were of much higher quality, but there is also no denying that it is Caffe Nero and similar chain stores that are the most successful and profitable, and not the independent cafés. In the current climate, it is the chain stores that are actually supplying what the average consumer really wants.

The art of cappuccino and the art of making money.

Today I am pondering this wonderful creation, the cappuccino. In case you didn’t know, (and if you rely on coffees from Nescafe vending machines, you won’t) a cappuccino is traditional quite a small drink, mostly a double espresso shot topped up with foamed milk. Anyone wanting a longer drink should have a latte, the same thing, but with more milk added. A cappuccino will cost you anything between 55p in a sincerely dreadful vending machine at Doncaster train station (these are the lengths I go to under the name of research – or possibly caffeine addiction) to the £2.65 Grande-mug-with-extra-shot at Caffe Nero. (I would quote Starbucks prices but haven’t yet swallowed my pride enough to dare go in there). I will cover why I need an extra shot in Nero’s coffee later.

I spent happy afternoon the other day, being instructed in how to make the perfect coffee at a rather obscure little factory in Blaydon in the outskirts of Newcastle. This would be Pumphreys Coffee company. They have been importing, roasting and selling coffee from there since 1750, and are now running Barista training courses. This is because, as our instructor, Stuart tells us, he hates seeing all the hard work that so many different people put into to producing the coffee, ruined at the last minute by untrained, or often plain lazy baristas. The commodity chains involved in producing a cappuccino are infinitely long, and necessarily global. The coffee growers, graders, buyers, shippers and importers, roasters, packagers, marketers, salesmen, distributors, and coffee shop managers; not to mention the dairy farmers, people who pasturise milk, bottling factory workers, health and safety regulators, supermarket or dairy buyers and even milkmen have all had some involvement in your cappuccino, then there is the designers of the espresso machine, the maintenance man who adjusts it for you, the cardboard cup manufacturers, brand designers and so on, have all contributed something too. And then a bored, underpaid, dispassionate and usually part time barista, screws it up. And still charges you £2 for the privilege.

At Pumphreys, we’re taught how to make an excellent espresso base (and even with a fully functional espresso machine and perfect ingredients and equipment, it can still go wrong very easily.) You then froth milk – and this is equally as important and as skilled as making the espresso. It should be heated to about 55 degrees centigrade, or 131 farenheit, and no more. You need a bit of air in it, but not a lot, no huge bubbles. The end result is velvety smooth throughout, the same consistency all the way through the jug, and is shiny and filled with tiny microbubbles. If you can pour it on top of your espresso, and if you are very artistic, you can make fabulous patterns with it. Here is Stuart creating “Latte Porn” – sure he won’t mind me borrowing it.
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For the record, not only do these coffees look great, they taste fantastic. So, if given the opportunity to train, why aren’t all cappuccinos like this? Where I used to work, at the Voodoo Cafe, (an independent and very unique place!) we took the time to learn properly, and although ours were never that pretty to look at, we invested in very high grade luxury coffees and then practiced making them properly. We had a whole range of different coffees to try; different espresso bases in different varieties of coffee. We also tried to keep the prices competitive. Our 12-ounce cappuccinos were £1.50. Even taking into account my bias, compared to the competition we made some of the best coffees in town. However, I am informed that this cafe is sadly facing closure now, mainly because it is not making enough money.

Compare this to life at Caffe Nero. Nero is a big brand. It is the 20th fastest growing company in the whole of Europe, and currently has over 330 stores in Britain. And every single one is identical. This means that whichever store you go into from Brighton to Glasgow, you know that there will be brown leather armchairs, little circular tables, the coffee bar usually in the middle, a fridge full of cakes (the same cakes…) the same rather dated pictures on the walls, and even the same music playing at the same time of day in each store. You will also know the prices are the same throughout the country with the exception of those in central London and at airports, and that your loyalty card will work anywhere. If you pay attention you will notice that the staff will even say more or less the same things to you; the Six Service Steps we are all obliged to follow. You will be very familiar with the Nero logo, which is plastered all over each store, all over your cups, plates and bowls, the take-out cups, the take-out sleeves to stop you burning your fingers on the take-out cups, the take-out bags, the t-shirts of all the staff, the retail bags of coffee, containing the secret Nero Blend, all the cake wrappers and sandwich boxes, and even on the napkins.
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(This film, incidently, was made for another coffee-related ESRC sponsored PhD project… I am not alone!)

The other thing that is identical in every Caffe Nero is the coffee – supposedly. Each new employee has to undergo “weeks of intensive training before being allowed to serve an espresso” (from their promotional leaflets). However, this intensive training does not include actually tasting the coffee. We are taught that if the right amount of ground coffee goes into the handles, and it pours for the correct length of time (a full ten seconds less than Pumphreys recommend), and it has a good crema on the top, then it is a good espresso and can be served. This is not a good argument however, because espressos can look very good but still taste awful. In my experience at Nero, I am in the minority because I actually drink the coffee there. Most do not touch the stuff.
With an not-so-great espresso base, the next step is the milk. In Nero, this is heated to 60 degrees centigrade/ 140 farenheit. We pump a lot of hot air into it, until in separates, with thin but very hot milk on the bottom, and a raft of thick, dry foam floating on the top.
From this, the cappuccino is made, to the Nero Way: 1/3 espresso, 1/3 hot milk, 1/3 foam. The foam is occasionally so thick it has to be spooned into the cup. It is then topped up with the hot milk until the foam bulges out of the top of the mug, in the trademark dome shape Nero prides itself on. Think muffin tops. I always ask for an extra espresso shot, because with this level of milk, it is often not possible to taste the coffee at all.
If the cappuccino does not look right, we are not allowed to serve it. I have actually had someone complain that she did not have enough froth on her cappuccino and I had to make her another one, heated even higher and with even drier foam. By this time, even I could smell that the milk was burnt, but this is what she wanted.

Overheating the milk is a cultural phenomenon, it seems. Try as we might, in this country we are still very much tea drinkers. When we drink tea, we make it with boiled water, then sit, chat and stir it until it is cool enough to drink. When we make coffee, we expect it to behave the same way. But it doesn’t. Tea needs the heat to infuse properly. Burning the coffee by brewing espresso at too hot a temperature makes it unplesantly bitter and metallic tasting. Heating the milk until is separates for a Nero cappuccino makes it smell of baby sick (yes, I have been able to test and research this claim as well recently) and lose its natural sweetness as well. Cappuccinos made at 50-55 degrees centigrade – which is the optimum temperature for both espresso and milk – is designed to be drunk as soon as it is made. Of course it goes cold quickly, but better that than burning it?

As I’ve already pointed out, Caffe Nero is a success story, it claimed record profits this year and has made a serious amount of money, very quickly, and all apparently by creating generic stores selling underextracted espresso and burnt milk drinks. But there is no denying that they “look” like good cappuccinos. Large chain and branded coffee have created this image of what an ideal coffee looks like in the UK, and if anything deviates from this, customers will not recognise it, and it will not sell, even if it tastes better. Which is what may have been happening at our independent cafe. For all the authenticity Caffe Nero claims: “The best espresso this side of Milan” for instance, or “A True Italian Coffee” they are still buying in to, and perpetrating this ideal of image and appearance over taste and quality. For as long as we consumers continue to buy these imitations, nothing is going to change. Which I think is quite sad really.

Coffee (part 2)

Coffee should be black as hell, strong as death and as sweet as love

That is a Turkish proverb, apparently, but it could also be Latino, or possibly even Geordie! I once had an Amazing Day Out with a good friend, apparently part of my ‘training’, and after that I think I can now safely call myself an espresso gourmet, or at least, a coffee geek.
Off we toddled to The Big Coffee Factory In The Sky (which, ok, isn’t big and is in Blaydon, Newcastle, not the sky) and got officially tutored in the art of making the perfect espresso. It was so much fun!!! Sounds silly, especially given my job, but I had no idea at all of the complexities involved in the perfect brew. The guy teaching us, just called ‘Jim’ is apparently the 7th Best Barista in the World. That’s quite a title – I wasn’t even aware that there were competitions for that sort of thing. He is Master of the Chrome Monstrosity. Yay Jim.
Anyway, The Perfect Espresso not only has to be brewed for the correct amount of time (25 seconds ish), it also has to have the correct water pressure (30 bars?) and the right amount of coffee (14g for the double shots we use at Voodoo cafe), and, even more complicatedly, the correct grind – finer for espresso makers, coarser for cafetieres, and so on. The final product has to be served as fresh as possible, and it should be thick – not watery (too bitter) or syrupy (too burnt-tasting). And it should have a decent, brown crema on the top. If the crema is pale then its under-extracted or something. This is Just the espresso – we also got to hear about correct procedure for frothing milk too which took another hour or so…
I daren’t mention the existence of my own inventions – Ubercoffee (three espressos, made palatable by copious amounts of cocoa) and Love Potion (essentially, pink cappuccino) since the resident gourmets probably would’ve had heart attacks and /or banished the cretinous heathen to the underworld of Starschmucks forever.

I feel all excited about Life and Work, because it’s yet another New Thing I’ve learnt, and Caffe Nero is the only chain of coffee shops that is staffed by enthusiastic people trained by world class baristas. Costa (Fortune) Coffee has nothing on us…..The Nero’s stuff is all fair trade or better than fair trade, mainly from Brazil, but I am battling with them to get them to stock Donna’ coffee from Building New hope in Nicaragua.
Nicaraguan coffee, incidently, is served up very very strong, very black and very sweet – brewed with love, hell and death, I’m sure. Beginning to think extending that simile is a bad idea now….