Sorry for the my absence (that’s to future me more than present you, but if you really missed me, sorry); if you’ve been checking my twitter feed (here or on twitter) you know that I’ve been increasingly fond of the act and utility of the micro-blogging thing, especially with my new phone, but tweets aren’t narrative even if they’re, you know, dialogical, and I do have some stuff to write more than 140 characters about, so here we go.
Yesterday was the prairies barista comps, held as they were last year at Fratello Coffee Company here in Calgary. I dropped Brian off at the airport for a trip to Anchorage AK via Vancouver at around 9am and then scooted over to Fratello, what I thought was a straight shot down Barlow Trail from the airport, but it wasn’t quite that simple and I was a few minutes late, not a problem since I did not, as it turned out, judge this year. I didn’t signal my intentions to do so in time, the slate was full, and I know to inquire earlier next year. BUT I was a good audience member, stayed for the whole thing (until past 6pm, surviving on coffee, cookies, and chips), and had a great time. Make that a GREAT time, an emotional experience really. There were 11 competitors which is two fewer than last year but I can confidently say that the level of competition was higher; for example, last year’s winner only placed 3rd this year, and last year’s second-place finisher finished too low to qualify for nationals, a feat he’s managed several times now. Add to this the fact that, among all four regional qualifiers, our first-place finisher (and maybe our second-place and third-place as well) had the single highest score of any barista in the country. Calgary (and Edmonton) has not only arrived in the coffee scene- we might take the whole thing this year.
Here are the results:
6: Jimmy Oneschuk from Museo Coffee (Saskatoon) – 476
5: Mike Tam from Phil & Sebastian Coffee Company (Calgary) – 602.5
4: Josh Hockin from Transcend Coffee (Edmonton) – 607
3: Chad Moss from Transcend Coffee (Edmonton) – 628
2: Joel May from Fratello Coffee Company (Calgary) – 628.5
1: Ben Put from Phil & Sebastian Coffee Company (Calgary) – 632
Josh, Chad, Joel and Ben will be representing the prairies (but really Alberta) at nationals next month in Vancouver. This event was one day, unlike last year when the top six competed in a day-two round and the top three qualified straightaway for nationals, with four and five (last year this was Joel, who ended up 3rd in the country at nationals, and Phil of Phil and Sebastian, who ended up fifth at nationals) getting in due to other contestants not being able to make it. So it’s possible that Mike and even Jimmy will end up in Vancouver. In any case, I found the final announcement and Ben’s incredible, nation’s-best showing to be just an amazing thing to witness; it was hard not to cry. Happy, happy moment. Congrats to all.
With respect to the reflections on “taste” I mention in this post title, I’ve been working (as always) on manuscripts and have two that I’m trying to finish by the end of the month. One is based on the talk that I have last February in Berlin and it’s about how machines in third-wave cafes (and non-third-wave, with some crucial differences) are oriented to by interactants at those shops; I use photographic “data” for this one and so while I’m writing I have one eye on the web, searching for journals that are accommodating of visual sociology and that would reproduce my evidence well. Since Berlin I’ve seen some superb examples of the phenomena I’m describing at shops here and in Toronto, but yesterday I also go to play, for the first time (for me) on the “Slayer” espresso machine that has been developed by a Calgary/Seattle consortium and was originally conceived of by the boys at Fratello, right here in Calgary, and I hasten to mention this as I’ve seen the Slayer described on the net and in print as a “Seattle-produced machine.” It is in part, but it’s also a Calgary-based invention and I want everybody to know this. (Except I’m wrong- see Eric Perkunder’s comment below). Here’s a pic:
But getting back to my introduction to it: one thing that I want my ethnography to capture is the pleasure, the FUN, that’s involved in using professional equipment, like the Slayer or the Synesso or the various beauties put out by La Marzocco or, honestly, just about any cafe-level equipment, especially by a wide-eyed coffee geek like me. I cannot see how a superautomatic, dumbed-down machine, like those used at horrible cafes where the coffee is an afterthought, could ever be FUN, never mind how it could be a focus for conversation and sociability and even the topic of conversation itself. So I’d like to address the human-machine sort of interaction and not only the human-human version and seeing as I have very little experience in this area I have to start to learn it.
I’m also working on a paper on connoisseurship and am looking at narratives in which coffee aficionados discuss how they arrived at their current taste for coffee and (this goes back to what I saw as the theme for this whole project) how burdensome “taste” can be. Now one nice development I have for this part of my project is some survey data that Brian collected as part of a larger study on consumer habits that he’s doing and he asked people about coffee-drinking habits and where people buy their coffee. He surveyed more than a thousand respondents and found that (1) only 9% of Canadians normally get coffee at “locally owned independent coffeehouses,” and (2) more than 70% of Canadians drink Tim Hortons style brewed coffee when they drink “coffee.” 4% drink espresso; fewer than 2% drink French press. These are interesting data that give some quantitative weight to the qualitative insight gleaned from my narratives, which are about how lonely it can be to be as oriented to coffee as self-described coffee geeks are.
So to stitch parts 1 and 2 of this entry together: it’s indeed lonely to have particular (I can’t say “good” because, well, I try not to be an ass all the time) taste in things, but sharing a whole day with people who share your passion? It was downright religious. In the Durkheimian sense.








