Accidental Roaster

Overcoming "It's Just Coffee" Mindset: The Game

Now that I've got a lull between conference marketing gigs, my mind tends to take off in directions I can't control. Usually that means it wants to leap back into the coffee world.

This morning I'm contemplating a Sudoku when suddenly the words, "Public Taster's Championship" enter my head. And within a minute I've got the whole thing figured out.

I hate when that happens. Because then I feel compelled to do something about it and Melanie will get all over me for wasting time on something that produces no revenue.

I imagine others have had this thought, and it's not the first time it's entered my head. But this time the idea insisted I give it credence. So I indulged it.

If there were one way to counter the "It's just coffee" mindset that most of the population continues to believe as true - despite what a coffee pro might hear within the echo chamber of coffee social media - a public competition could be just the trick.

In fact, it would not only improve public perception of coffee (and perhaps change perceptions on everything from acceptance of arcane brewing methodologies to global warming and derailing the K-Cup train), it would also have the benefit of improving coffeehouses that may not already include triangulations in their staff training. Which of course would produce better baristas. Which would mean more people get access to better coffee. Probably.

We already have the rules for the pros with the Cup Tasters Championship. No reason those need to change.

How it would (could) work:

There's a oversight organization in charge of rules and procedures. Could be the BGA (and wouldn't this get them more members?). And there are sponsors to underwrite costs. The sales pitch to sponsors is pretty obvious and there's actually more value in this than some of the other crap these companies already sponsor.

Regions are defined and within each region a few cities/subregions are selected where the initial competitions will be held.

The event is announced at the local/subregion level. A local promoter/champion gets local press and visits cafes to discuss the benefits. What decent cafe wouldn't want one of its regular customers to be their city's tasting champion? Each participating cafe hosts a preliminary. Winners of the prelims face off against winners from other cafes until there's a local champion.

This gets repeated at the regional level and eventually national. Perhaps even global in time.

At the local level you get the benefit of each shop promoting its participation via social media, along with the individuals who would be competing. Customers from each shop would root for one of their own. Even those who flame out in the competition would likely mention it, along with details of their participation. By the time the cafe winners make it to the city finals, there would be mainstream local press coverage, along with local food bloggers and other 'tastemakers' alternately lauding the competition or poking fun at it. All press is good press, as they say.

Then you move on from local to regional, and there's more mainstream press and social media coverage. And by the time the national competition commences, there's a national coverage. Maybe even the Food Network or other TV.

Certainly a competition like this isn't going to change everyone's mind about coffee. The folks who drink Folgers are likely to stay their course. If it was good enough for grandpappy, it's good enough for them.

But for the folks who regularly go to decent/better cafes and just order the house out of the urn, this may represent an unparalled opportunity to get them to take a chance at trying something different.

And there are LOT of those people. A LOT.

There are other potential industry benefits I haven't even mentioned. But it's time to go walk the dogs and I'm trying to get this out of my head so I can spend the rest of my day on doing something that actually does produce potential revenue.

Another Year Passes, Still A Lot of Bad Tasting Coffee Out There

Over Christmas Melanie and I went to visit family in Long Island & Connecticut. It's a seven hour drive. Which meant drinking road coffee. And the disappointment that usually comes along with that.

We started Aldo Coffee in 2004, early on in the "third wave" coffee era. Eight years have since passed. And while "third wave coffee" continues to get significant coverage in consumer and trade food and beverage press, it still hasn't made much of a dent in many parts of the country - including many densely populated parts in the Northeast where there exists a strong appreciation for culinary advances and ethical/organic products in every other food category besides coffee.

This would include Long Island, where we've yet to find any coffeehouse that remotely resembles a "third wave" operation (which we'll define for our purposes as sourcing ethically, roasting lighter to allow the coffee to express the bean rather than the roast, training baristas on proper dosing and brewing for both espresso and drip). We know of exactly one in Fairfield County, CT.

It's an odd phenomenon. There is a high appreciation for better wines, beers and spirits in the metro NYC area. High end supermarkets and organic food outlets are rife in the area. Yet this increasing food awareness hasn't spread to coffee outside of lower Manhattan, a wide swath of Brooklyn and a couple of outposts in Queens. Other than Espresso Neat in Darien, the drive from Long Island to New Haven offers no options for great coffee close to I-95 (unless you're willing to make a detour to CoffeeLabs in Tarrytown just short of the Tappan Zee). Once you get to New Haven, you've got Willoughby's and Blue State, then nothing again until Providence and Boston.

Given how third-wave coffee is more widely represented in other East Coast suburbs like those outside Philly and DC what explains the dearth of third-wave coffee in Connecticut and Long Island?

I think I have an explanation: Dunkin Donuts and Eight O'Clock Coffee.

Dunkin Donuts is a birthright of New Englanders, and more recently has overtaken the once-ubiquitous blue-and-white NYC go cup in Manhattan itself. New England is the one area of the country where Starbucks is not the leading chain coffee. And most importantly, Dunkin roasts coffee much lighter than Starbucks, which is generally perceived as "burnt" by those who enjoy third-wave coffees. They're used to - and in fact generally prefer - lighter roasts in the Northeast. In fact, in roaster lingo, old-timers used to refer to a specific level of light roast as "New England Roast" just like they'd refer to a dark roast as "Italian" or one on the verge of charcoal as "French".

I've found that even Starbucks' new "Blonde" roasts, Veranda and Willow have carbony notes, though not nearly as much as their typical house blend coffee. The only way you'll find burnt notes in a cup of Dunkin is if you go at a non-peak time when the staff has let the carafe sit on the heater for far longer than company policy allows. And as far as NYC goes, Dunkin's operation looks favorably on the typical "regular to-go" coffee order (cream, two sugars).

Thus, for a black coffee drinker, the difference between lighter roasted third-wave coffees and carbony Starbucks is relatively clear cut. Not so much when it comes to competing vs. Dunkin. You can discern some flavor notes in a cup of Dunkin beyond "just coffee" - you can easily find basics like sweet and nutty. Rather than talking a mellower, non-bitter cup, now you're talking price and convenience. And Dunkin obviously has that all over any third-wave shop.

Dunkin is everywhere in New England - there are roughly eight Dunkins to every Starbucks - and also has a larger presence in the NYC metro (including NJ and LI) than Starbucks.

Did I mention it's also a birthright? New Englanders have a bit of regional pride invested in Dunkin vs. that West Coast interlopers. They like their own, which is also why there's a lower percentage of national chains vs. mom-and-pops in New England vs. other areas of the country. Dunkin was accepted it's from there.

In other areas of the country, the typical progression to third wave coffee is something like Folgers to Starbucks to Stumptown. In New England, it's more like Eight O'Clock/Dunkin is both the starting and ending destination for those who grew up in the area. Although there haven't been any studies to quantify this, it's reasonable to suppose that a disproportionate number of third wave shop customers in New England migrated from Starbucks (and in Boston, from Coffee Connection, which was bought out by Starbucks) rather than Dunkin - because it's a more difficult value proposition to make to a Dunkin customer than a Starbucks one.

Similarly, when it comes to supermarket coffee, Eight O'Clock is still hugely popular, being a medium roast whole bean arabica option in a supermarket world of canned ground robusta and brand-name dark/french roasts.

Oddly, the other big-name New England roaster, Green Mountain, is mostly an afterthought. They don't own their own cafes, their coffee is found mostly in convenience stores and gas stations, and they have no quality control over how their coffees are brewed or held. Which I suppose is why they have their future tied to Keurig machines for home. And the one cup of Green Mountain I bought at 3:30am before jumping onto the LIE for the long trip home was among the worst cups I had in 2012, if not the worst. Yet it was all I had to get me through NYC and into NJ, where we filled up on much cheaper gas.

I was happy to find a Dunkin right near the gas station before we got back onto I80. It's not the best coffee in the world, but it's reliable, and indeed, tasty in its own way, even if that means simply not being offensive.

Bowling for Aldo and Canine Cancer - Pledges Appreciated!

There will be a "Team Aldo" at the upcoming 'Bark and Bowl' tournament in Carnegie.

Bark and Bowl was created to raise funds and awareness of canine cancer. Team Aldo is hoping to raise $1,000 or more for the Canine Cancer Foundation.

As many of you know, Aldo was a victim of hemangiosarcoma, a particularly aggressive form of cancer that is common in larger breed dogs, particularly Golden Retrievers and German Shepards.

We have already sent some of Aldo's blood to the Broad Institute for their Dog Genome project. We hope that our participation in Bark and Bowl and other projects directed at raising awareness of canine cancer will help Aldo's unflagging spirit continue to live on.

You can pledge here, or if we see you around town, just slip us some cash!

Aldo: August 28, 2002 - September 16, 2012

Aldo left us last night just before midnight. He'd had internal bleeding from hemangiosarcoma and had been uncomfortable for a couple of days. Both Melanie and I were by his side, talking to him and stroking him until his final breaths.

Given his declining condition, we had expected to have to put him down soon, but it's somewhat comforting he passed at home instead of on a stainless steel table at the vet.

He did have a number of good days following his August 5 surgery. There were several long walks, including off-leash on the Boyce Park trails. He was up to playing soccer even last week, with the same ball he's had since he was just a couple of months old. And even last night he was up and wagging his tail gleefully when the neighbors stopped by.

Today he was pretty much out of it all day, but he's had days like that before. It wasn't until late tonight that he turned significantly for the worse and once it was apparent what was happening, there would not have been time to get him to a vet.

It's a difficult night and arranging his cremation tomorrow will be difficult as well. But he's at peace now and better off.

Aldo was the best dog we could've imagined. He provided us with a decade of love and joy. He will be sorely missed. He already is.

We Never Argued About Coffee.

Even though Aldo had a well-known, well-regarded coffeehouse named after him, he didn't drink the stuff. Didn't like it. He was all about cool, clean water.

Regular Pittsburgh tap water was fine with him. He wasn't into Total Dissolved Solids. That was a silly issue for fussy humans to deal with.

We're hoping he'll be able to have another bowl of cool, clean water soon. However, at this moment, the fluids he's receiving are from an IV drip after having just gone through an emergency operation to remove his spleen and most of one lobe of his liver, the former which had ruptured due to hemangiosarcoma cancer and the latter which has metastisized.

The house is very empty without him. I'm writing this probably moreso for me than for him, just to keep busy. As we were waiting for a call to tell us he was out of the operating room, I was half-joking with Melanie about what Aldo thinks of all this. Is this operation what he wanted? He didn't have a voice in the decision.

He's had a difficult week. We thought we were going to lose him last Saturday as he appeared just as immobile and lethargic then as he did this morning. He wouldn't move except to struggle to his water bowl occasionally. He wouldn't eat. He did manage to walk to the car on his own and he perked up a bit when we got to the vet. His tests showed anemia and he responded immediately to medication.When we got home he lapped up some doggy ice cream and ate dinner voraciously.

Further tests on Tuesday indicated a possible infection, but no internal bleeding or cancerous cells discovered upon examining platelets. We got some antibiotics and figured he (and we) had escaped a close one.

By Tuesday evening he seemed fine. He got a bit tired on walks so we only went as far as he wanted. His appetite was strong as ever and he was mildly interested in playing with some of his many toys.

So this morning was surprising. No appetite. Lots of water. And once walked out - very slowly - for his morning pee, he collapsed. LIfting a 152lb bag of green coffee off a skid is much easier than trying to lift a 60lb dog who has no interest in being lifted. But I got him in my arms and into the car.

He was taken in immediately at the vets and had a catheter inserted which came out all blood. Major internal bleeding. There's an emergency pet hospital with testing equipment 40 minutes away and it was decided to take some pictures instead of just opening him up then and there. So Aldo was lifted back into the car and off we went. Perhaps the longest 40 minute drive of my life.

Once he was examined, the hospital was short on good news. He had to be operated on immediately. And it wouldn't be inexpensive.

Faced with the choice of saving the life of a family member we've known for 10 years, there really wasn't a choice regardless of what the estimate said. We had to give him a shot. Even if it was only 1:1000 odds that he didn't have cancer, there was a possibility he didn't. And after all, we still get a monthly check from the sale of his eponymously-named coffeehouse. Other than a diet of raw meat and a few toys, we'd never given him a cut of the business. So in a way it was partly his money.

We don't know if we'll have Aldo for another 8 months, 8 weeks or even 8 days. Whatever the prognosis, it's not going to be for a very long time. We hope he's happy in whatever remaining time that is. At a minimum, he isn't suffering as bad as he was a few hours ago. But it's a temporary respite.

What I do know right at this moment is that I wish I'd spent fewer hours online arguing arcane points on coffee and espresso and had taken him on a few more walks or kicked around his soccer ball more often when he was annoyingly restless.

I had always thought of taking him with me on a hike to finish the last three peaks I needed to complete the list of 4,000 footers in the White Mountains of New Hampshire. He would've loved that. I can visualize his goofy smile while taking in all the new smells and dancing in the cold mountain streams.

That's not going to happen now, even with the best possible outcome.

Aldo never liked to hear us argue about the shop. Whomever was the loudest, he'd go to the other of us and try to snuggle in. He didn't have an opinion on anything related to the store, unless we both spent too much time there. Then he'd let us know by being aloof, a somewhat ironic punishment he apparently thought was apropos for us leaving him alone for such long periods.

The only coffee-related thing he cared about was an espresso scented pillow Lois bought for him a few years ago. Of all the things in his overstuffed toy basket, that pillow was one of the half-dozen items he regularly laid down with or brought to the door in his mouth whenever visitors arrived.

Other than that he just didn't care about coffee at all except as a means to ensure enough money was coming in to keep his bowl full of chicken gizzards and liver.

At this moment, I'm thinking there's nothing wrong with that. Nothing at all.

Give your dog a hug. You can't hug them enough.

Status: Heading Towards Limbo

Back in April, after not having any success finding worthwhile employment, I made the decision to help out a couple of new retailers while re-establishing our farmer's market presence. These projects (in addition to side conference work) would at least keep some money coming in while I continued to search for a "real" job.

By the end of this coming week, I may be completely out of coffee. Not by choice.

One of the two projects, Biddle's Escape, wasn't a good fit. I like owner Joe Davis a lot and I hope that his coffee importing business takes off. I'd love to help with that. But as to the cafe, he really didn't need me there. I invested about four weeks of my time to help sort things out on the coffee end, but the place is really more a neighborhood hangout than a coffee destination - and there's nothing at all wrong with that.

The attractions of Biddle's are the huge patio and the family-friendliness of the menu - big on smoothies and non-coffee beverages. Having me there was overkill and what I'd be providing regarding attention to detail in coffee prep ran the risk of actually getting in the way. So we set up some simple things. I trained a couple of people who were interested in latte art on milk texturing, simplified the coffee offerings and that was that.

The farmer's market is on hold at the moment. I'm waiting for a new motherboard and motor for my little roaster, which flamed out two weeks ago. As I can't roast, I've got nothing to sell. The market hasn't been great for me this year anyway for a couple of reasons - one being a guerilla coffee stand that's set up just outside the entrance to the market, siphoning off some business; the other being changes I was asked to make by the Board regarding providing airpot service instead of all pourovers as I'd been doing the past two years. It takes the "specialness" of what we were doing away. We're more than a third through the season and I'm looking at not breaking even until October.

The Bluebird Kitchen work will end next Friday. We'd agreed to a three-month stint and that three months is up on the 27th. That's been the most successful and rewarding of the three projects this year. They're serious about coffee (but not hardcore, as espresso-to-go and 'extra hot' are options) using Counter Culture, which has sent us a few excellent coffees to serve as drip as well as exceptional espresso courtesy of their Rustico blend. I've routinely pulled exceptional shots and capps of Rustico and it's probably now my second favorite blend available in the Pittsburgh market after Epic (which I'm not sure is still being served by Voluto since Commonplace took over).

The other thing about Bluebird that was exciting for me was the level of professionalism throughout the operation. While it's basically a takeout breakfast/lunch storefront, the attention to detail in ingredients and preparation is exceptional. Curing salmon, confitting chicken, sous-viding meats, all happening in a relatively small space that also has to accomodate high-volume grill orders and three bakers.

The output is jawdropping. All the bread is baked in-house, and given the small workspace, it's a bit amazing how many ciabatta, pretzel rolls and bagels come out of the oven each day. Julie and Leah are incredible pastry wizards and never stop banging out breakfast delights and desserts.

I remember when we were trying to bring baking in house at Aldo Coffee and we were ecstatic when we could pull off a tray each of biscotti, chocolate chip cookies and brownies in the same day. I'd bet Julie and Leah can do it in a half hour.

I've pretty much trained my replacement on what she needs to keep the coffee quality up to current standards. She'll be doing most of the heavy lifting in this last week. She's been trained on the use of scales and timers and yields (and of course, tasting), which I think is the right way. It's good to know why espresso and coffee tastes the way it does, especially for someone who hasn't been a full-time barista before. And the other full-time (afternoon) barista is more the "artisan" who doesn't believe in measurements. Which is why I standardized on the VST 21gram basket this week - he likes a heavier dose than I do. So we'll see how that goes. Thankfully the Robur now seems to be seasoned and consistent.

I had a morning routine that gave me 15 minutes or so between getting off the T and starting my shift. I'd use that time to read a few pages of a book in Market Square just after sunrise. It was peaceful and chaotic at the same time. Few people would be using the tables, but the garbage trucks and food delivery vehicles were all busy in every corner of the Square. I'll miss that routine.

I don't know yet what I'll be doing after next week. I do wish there was an opportunity in coffee around here. And I wish I had the bankroll to create that opportunity, because there's much that could still be accomplished.

The Liberation of Being Simply a Barista

As I alluded to a couple of weeks ago, I'll be working with a couple of new cafes over the next three months. I can now name them.

Bluebird Kitchen and Biddle's Escape.

I'll be at the former mornings from 7-10:30a starting sometime in the next few days. I'll be at the latter Monday and Wednesday nights from 4-9p. In both cases there's something of a consulting and training role, more specific with Bluebird than Biddle's as we've mutually agreed on a set timeframe and objectives to be achieved with their coffee program.

I worked my first shift at Biddle's Escape last night. I didn't know what to expect (although I now know to expect a longer commute due to school buses and construction between 3pm-4pm!).

I hadn't worked a bar shift since November 15, 2011. I'd never worked a bar shift for a cafe I didn't own.

It felt great.

At Aldo Coffee, much as I tried to just be a barista when I had to pull shifts, there was always an agenda. I wanted customers to buy into what we were trying to do. 95% of Aldo customers just wanted a decent drink. They didn't care if it was an ethically-sourced direct trade organic microlot from a CoE winning farm hand-brewed on the device that accentuated their desire for mouthfeel or flavor articulation.

But I did and it continually upset me that I cared so much and they didn't. Not a winning formula for sustainable success, even considering our healthy seven-year run. Whatever success we had was mitigated by constant frustration and not being able to convince customers that our way was both different and better.

At Biddle's Escape, I didn't have to worry about that. All I had to concern myself with was being nice to customers and making the best drink possible with the ingredients at hand. I didn't choose those ingredients, I have nothing invested in what's being served (although if it were bad coffee I wouldn't work there). All that's expected of me is to provide a great drink and great service. 

It might surprise some of Aldo's (and my) harshest critics that I actually succeeded at that. And has a blast doing it. Cleaned up on tips, too.

It was fun coming up with an on-the-spot espresso blend from some leftover coffee (Brazil, Harrar, Hondo) that went into a timer grinder I'd never used before (a Mythos) and a few minutes later making a really good shot from it from an espresso machine I'd never used before. The old Mark Prince "barista credo" was in play (any coffee, any grinder, any machine).

Customers were delighted the place was finally open. Everyone who came in was happy when they got there and (I believe) even happier when they left.

Certainly there are some bugs to fix. That would be expected at any new shop. And it's part of my role to help Joe fix those. But in a way that supports him, not to make me happy or serve any pretense I might have over how things should be.

It was an entirely enjoyable experience and I can't wait to do it again on Wednesday. Although I need a better pair of shoes.

On Getting Back Behind Bar

Sometime in the next few weeks, I'll be back behind a coffee bar.

It won't be at my own shop. I'll be working for someone else. The job won't pay well.

The espresso machines will not have pressure-profiling or any other new features/technologies developed over the past few years. I'm not even sure what, if any, pourover methods will be utilized.

The owners are not known baristas. Or really have much coffee bar knowledge at all.

So why do it?

It's a somewhat complicated answer. Pittsburgh's momentum as a coffee destination city has stalled. There have been a number (one may argue, too many) of "neighborhood" cafes to open over the past couple of years, but none stand out for coffee quality. The last significant cafe to open was Espresso a Mano back in July 2010. Aldo sold to Orbis Caffe last November. Now Voluto is closing, to be taken over by Commonplace.

The coffee scene is treading water.

Later this Spring, two new cafes will open, with a third hopefully coming online in summer. In each case, the decisions relating to coffee are being taken far more seriously than at the typical neighborhood cafe. I personally want them all to succeed. 

In the latter case, I've been helping the owner with his business plan in order to set realistic goals and help get bank financing. My fee has been an occasional beer. The training will be done by one of the top five coffeehouses in Pittsburgh. The coffee will be from a well-known "third wave" roaster. The shop will be an adjunct to a tattoo gallery owned by one of the city's best artists. They'll be fine, assuming they can get the startup money.

In one of the other two, the owners are not just opening a cafe, they are already sourcing their own green coffee with a direct trade model. There's an opportunity to do much more with them. The cafe will be using locally roasted coffee. It's a great space in a popular neighborhood with one coffeehouse that's been coasting for years.

The third cafe offers upscale light food in one of the busiest areas downtown where there are already five national coffee brands/local coffee institutions within a stone's throw. They will also be using coffee from a nationally-known third wave roaster.

What I've proposed to the latter two is coming on board for three months to develop the systems, do training, help establish service standards, while also making adjustments and recommendations as needed based results. Ideally during this time I'll also be able to recruit and hire someone to replace me after those three months are over.

It seems sort of silly to be "a barista" for someone else's cafe at my age. A more mature, rational adult of 56 would be spending their time making as much money as possible before retirement. And while there is money coming in from other sources, working from my home office full time has been a bit isolating. I miss coffee. I miss working with baristas. I miss turning customers on to delicious coffees.

Melanie and I have talked about a 'formal' barista training business numerous times. But we're the types who get emotionally invested in projects. It's "not us" to charge a four figure fee for a week of intense training and then walk away. We're sort of stupid that way. Getting more involved in the day-to-day of the business as both a barista/manager and advisor for the owner seems like a more sensible approach to help a new shop succeed.

Maybe it's a dumb idea. But good coffee matters. We wished someone was around to help us the first year - much of the training we received made little sense until we were actually up and running. So I'm going to do this. The more difficult part will be deciding which coffeehouse. I wish I could do both.

The above does not affect the Trier Coffee project. That's still on schedule to debut at Farmers@Firehouse in May. I was going to do that anyway.

Couples and Coffeehouses

We were saddened this week to learn that Voluto Coffee up in Garfield is giving up the ghost.This was a great coffeehouse with great service, excellent attention to detail, personable owners, and, IMO, the best espresso blend ever featured in this city, Epic from Vancouver's 49th Parallel.

At the same time, I was happy about it. Not in any schadenfreude way. Rather, it was because Amelie and Barb valued their relationship over the business. At least that's how their initial 'farewell' post came across.

"It is difficult to put into words the many layers that led to our decision but we can safely say that the operations of running a small business has taken its toll on  us. It is an understatement to say that this whole experience has been the hardest challenge we have faced, together as a couple."

Been there, done that.

Being a couple is hard enough. Starting and running a coffeehouse as a couple can put an incredible strain on a relationship. Profits are hard to come by if one or both of you are not working a ton of hours. In addition to whatever business disagreements there may be (and don't kid yourself, couple owners disagree as much or more than 'regular' business partners), you've got the added stress of things not getting done at home - and who's responsibility is it to do what there. Not saying that's exactly what was going on with Voluto, but it was the case for Melanie and I with Aldo.

Did I mention money is tight?

Starting any retail business is tough sledding. At the end of the day, you're tired, you're cranky, you've had to save your happy face for the business. When you do finally get home, well, you kind of just want to head to a bunker and chill. By yourself.

None of that is conducive to a great relationship. Couples who pull it off are more the exception than the rule.

One other similarity between Aldo and Voluto is that the timing was off. Garfield/E. Liberty is poised for growth and development. We even looked up there for a second shop but decided it was too early. Voluto went for it. And while business picked up each year, much like here in Mt. Lebanon it never "boomed". That area will eventually. Much like Orbis Caffe will be able to take advantage of the new hotel and the Denis Theater, should that actually reopen according to plan.

Melanie and I both miss being in the coffee business. Probably me more than her because I was more involved in the coffee end of things than trying to manage the daily cash flow. But we're much happier now with a stronger relationship, even though we still have no idea what we're going to do with the rest of our lives. A year ago we were ready to kill each other.

We hope Amelie and Barb get back to being a happy, carefree couple without the stress of running a coffee business. We imagine, like us, they'll both be stronger because of the experience. Running a small business as a couple, you really learn what you can handle without breaking.

We've heard they're moving back to the South Hills, so we look forward to having them over the house, getting drunk and sharing war stories.

The good news is that the space will remain a coffeehouse. Come May, Voluto will be operated by Commonplace Coffee, the Indiana-PA-based roaster which has seemingly become the de facto go-to regional roaster in these parts (soon to be roasting in Pgh). According to T.J. Fairchild, the new owner, the "new" Voluto will continue to sell 49th Parallel and may also offer Counter Culture (which has displaced Intelligentsia as the third-wave roaster of choice in great Pittsburgh).

Long live Voluto Coffee. And thanks Amelie and Barb for three Epic years!

Instructions for Consumption

"This record has been styled with today's hi-fi in mind. For optimum results it should be played at high volume in a room with no views other than those afforded by the use of subliminal image video apparatus. Dancing is allowed though electrical stimulation of the nervous system is unnecessary. The music has been motorized in sequence to conserve real time. File under Absolute A-Go-Go."

Above is from liner notes from "Sound on Sound" by Bill Nelson's Red Noise.

This is how I often feel about coffee, too.

One of the benefits of sitting at home doing mindless data entry work is being able to break out the old vinyl.