A Pretty Typical Scenario:
A customer enjoys a cup of our coffee.
They ask the barista about the beans used to make the cup.
To recreate the experience at home or work, they decide to buy a bag.
When paying for the bag they query - “It’s ground, right?”.
Until now we've been able to provide the customer with two options:
1. We grind the beans to suit their preferred brew method. I don’t need to go into detail explaining why this is far from ideal, but suffice to say this is like having your bottle of wine opened in store.
2. We broach the subject of grinding at home. Previously stocking only the Porlex Hand Grinder, we have divided the crowd. There are those who relish the tactile and portable nature of hand grinding. Others, less so.
But rejoice! The Wilfa is here - an electric grinder with quality burrs and a small footprint, giving fantastic results without great expense or (somewhat physical) effort, and now we're pleased to announce the new and improved version, the CGWS-130B!
Wilfa’s newest model comes in a very cool ‘Batman’ matte black casing, and is fitted with a new DC motor that boasts higher torque but fewer RPMs than its predecessor. This means you’ll be able to grind dense and complex coffees with ease, preserving volatile aromatics during the grinding process as less heat is generated by the slower burrs.
The chamber is designed to hold up to 250g, dosing out your grounds by use of the timer. We always find it better to weigh your dose before adding it to the grinder. The Wilfa retains very little coffee around the burrs (roughly 0.2g with each dose); weighing each time means your ground dose will be more accurate and the coffee stays fresher in its resealable bag.
We've spent a fair bit of time experimenting with the grinder and thought it prudent to share our findings with you, the main being the range of grind sizes proffered by the Wilfa is pretty wide and could be a little misleading.
Here are some rough grind settings you should start with for the various brew methods you might use to make coffee at home.
The window you should be grinding in is much, much narrower than the settings on the dial suggest.
From left to right (coarsest to finest) the dial reads OFF, STEAP [sic], FRENCH PRESS, FILTER, AEROPRESS, MOCCA. The Steep, French Press and Filter settings are very coarse. You could potentially use the Filter range of settings for brewing 1L plus in a large Chemex, or something equally slow draining, but generally for our style of coffee we're looking squarely at the Aeropress range on the dial.
Basically, you want to see some part of the word "AEROPRESS” on the dial, or you're likely too coarse or too fine for best results with normal filter methods. Treat these suggestions as jumping off points, adjusting as necessary to dial in the coffee to your taste.
Slide the grind setting to OFF, lift the hopper out and the top burr comes out easily. As mentioned before, the grinder retains very little coffee so a soft bristled brush is all you need to loosen spent grounds. It doesn't take much to securely lock it in again. Simply align the burrs and slot them back into place.
To make the prospect even more attractive, you can now group the Wilfa Grinder together with some of the other pieces from our hardware range in the form of our Brew Bundles. As well as providing you everything need to create the perfect cup of coffee in almost every eventuality, you score a rather substantial saving in the process.
If you relish the engagement and tactile natural of manual pour over coffee then this is the bundle for you (includes a 2 Cup V60, 100 Filter Papers, Salter Scale, Glass Decanter, Wilfa Grinder and a 250g bag fresh coffee: £125).
If you just want to press a couple of buttons and brew up to six cups in a few short minutes then this is the bundle for you (includes the Technivorm MoccaMaster, Wilfa Grinder, Gram Scales and a 250g bag fresh coffee: £240).
Nati’s On Priory is the type of neighbourhood cafe that everyone wishes their neighbourhood had, but in reality is a rare find. When you enter, it’s obvious that Nati’s is a café driven by unrelenting passion, and kept on track by a huge amount of care and a steadying hand, despite how effortless and natural it all appears to be. The steadying hand in this case belongs to Natalia Tarjanyi, or Nati as her regulars now know her, and after meeting her it’s not hard to see why she and her café have become a sort of beacon for the area, providing delicious food and coffee to a loyal crowd of regulars.
Stepping into the warmth of Nati’s, you’re immediately hit by the tantalising smells of fresh cakes being baked, fresh bread, and of course coffee. With high ceilings, classic marble tables and curved back wooden chairs, Nati’s has a touch of the European about it, and a touch of the New York too; in the sense of fun in it’s offering, and in the way the décor recalls some classic Jewish-American diners. Come to mention it, it has a touch of the Israeli too. Natalia has travelled a lot, taking inspiration from all over the world, and she has decided exactly what she wants her café to be.
Sitting under the soft light from the glass globe lampshades and admiring the colourful yet meticulously chosen artwork decorating the white walls, it’s hard to disagree with her vision. The staff are welcoming and friendly, excited to talk to every customer as though they were best friends, the coffee is delicious and made with care, and the cinnamon roll we taste (the last remaining one, to Nati’s insistence) is delicious with a great texture— surprisingly but pleasantly subtle and just the right balance of sticky, sweet, and chewy.
Nati sits down with us at one of the inviting marble tables for a chat.
Workshop Coffee: So how did Nati’s on Priory come about? What’s the story?
Nati: Well I always wanted to open my own place, but life happens. You start earning some money and you stop thinking about your dreams, but I always had the idea in my mind. I was always baking, and eventually by husband encouraged me to quit my job and just go for it.
WC: Did you have any experience in food and drink?
NC: No, I had never worked in food, catering, nothing. I decided to spend a lot of time doing research, a full year actually. Good ideas and baking skills aren’t enough. I met a lot of café owners — everyone was willing to sit down with me for an hour or two, and that gave me a better idea of the difficulties involved in running a café. Whenever anyone approaches me I do the same for them. And you know what? I look back and they were right. The issues they flagged up are my issues too. So I recommend people do that, take the time, it won’t all happen right away. I broke it all right down too, how much I need to make in a day to break even, down to the last detail.
WC: We can definitely relate to that detail-oriented approach. What are the difficulties involved in running Nati’s? What’s the hardest part?
N: [unflinchingly] Staff. Without a doubt, staff. There is always something to deal with. And I have a great team! It’s a wonderful team - we like spending time together, we have staff nights out, we do parties, we know each other’s birthdays, and I know they go out together without The Boss too and that’s great.
But with a small business its very difficult to… It’s hard to inspire your staff sometimes. If they stick with me I can give them a good place to work, I can give them training, but there’s not much more I can offer. To offer promotions I need to grow first, so it’s hard to keep really good staff. How do you reward people when you don’t have those positions available? I don’t have these answers.
WC: The café has a really great feel to it, what was your inspiration for the overall aesthetic?
N: I wanted it to feel like a Continental café. I would go home to Hungary and pick things up, or my family would get things for me, from flea markets mainly. We’ve got these great posters for example, ranging from 1930s to 1980s, it’s just not something you see everywhere. [Pointing to a hinged wooden contraption on the wall] That’s a newspaper reader from Hungary, I just love how it looks.
WC: The Continental influences definitely come across, everything feels familiar enough to be comfortable, but unfamiliar enough to still be interesting. By the way, these tables are great, they’re so spacious.
N: Yes these marble tables were something I really wanted, they’re from Germany and they’re just perfect, and the size too as you say. I actually went around cafés with a measuring tape and that’s how I decided what I wanted. I measured baby buggies — so you can get a double buggy through our door for example. The chairs were extremely important too, every detail was important to me.
WC: Was there a lot of work to do on the site?
N: Yes, all the refurb was done by me. We had to change the shop front from an awful aluminium frame, dealing with the council was a nightmare and all I wanted to do was replace it with the original front. I hired a local joiner, he used the same timber and he remade the sash windows exactly how they would’ve been originally, right down to the little carvings on the top which he matched to the ones next door. You know it’s a tiny detail, but he grew up here and he knew what he was doing. You can still see the original shop sign too, you have to have that sense of history.
WC: That way of doing things is quite rare now, right?
It feels more generous this way. It’s more me so I like it, that’s very important that you like it. I’m here seven days baking. It’s a control thing, I have to be here. They [the staff] always push me out though, they’re good without me.
WC: In terms of coffee, what’s the most important thing?
N: Quality and training. Constant training is important, for the sake of quality and for the staff to feel invested. It’s important to make sure everyone is up to standard. Workshop has been amazing, Sam [Brown, Workshop Coffee’s Quality and Development Manager] has been fantastic, the staff love their trainings.
WC: Do you have a good relationship with all of your suppliers?
N: Yeah, every one is a small company and we list them on the menu. The relationships are personal, and we are a supplier for the community as well. There’s a community garden where we take our coffee grounds, and the fruit and veg waste goes for composting. There’s a garden in the back too, in the summer we grow some of our ingredients - tomatoes, red currants, lots of herbs.
But you know, when I was first opening up and talking to suppliers, people would always ask me “is it a coffee place or a food place?”. I hated that question, I hated that I had to choose. Why can’t they both be good quality? So all the food is made here with good ingredients and care, and the coffee is the best you can get. I hate it when I have bad coffee with my food and I have to go get it somewhere else afterwards, it’s so disappointing. Also you know, the coffee is like advertising for the café. People come in, try the coffee, and if it’s good they’ll come back for brunch.
WC: Do you have a favourite menu item yourself?
N: I usually go for the shakshuka. I love it. It’s just something that always makes me happy. But the menu reflects my heritage, and my husband is Jewish so we’ve travelled to Israel a lot- the food there is incredible.
WC: If someone was describing this café to a friend who had never been, what would you want them to say?
N: It’s a neighbourhood café, we’re laid back here, friendly. We know our customers by name, we know their babies’ names. A lot of the mums who come in were pregnant when we opened and now they have kids that recognise me. One of them waves at me and calls me ‘Chicken Lady’. I can’t walk around the neighbourhood without people saying hello, my husband too - he gets “Oh, you’re Nati’s husband!" You know, it’s a place that makes you happy, it’s food that makes you happy.
WC: In a way it’s kind of soul food
N: Yeah, and it’s slow food. The cinnamon rolls take two days to make, it’s the real thing. It’s better for your stomach that way. It’s a traditional recipe and it takes time, it’s delicious and there are no shortcuts. It’s just inviting and welcoming. It’s the same reason why we let dogs in, we are very dog-friendly. In Hungary it’s not even a question. Obviously they are nowhere near the food, the kitchen is separated, we have high shelves. But for us it makes sense, we’re near to Ally Pally [Alexander Palace], there are so many dog walkers around… Bear with me I need to go check my cake!
WC: [A few minutes later when Nati returns]
N: Sorry, it’s Piccadilly Circus in my head.
WC: That’s quite alright. So, do you have a bestselling cake?
N: Yes, the cinnamon rolls normally sell out by 11, 12 o’ clock. We also have something called… Well it’s a Hungarian name, but it’s basically sweet enriched dough, usually with apricot or plum jam, but it’s a difficult word to pronounce with a funny spelling so we did a competition to come up with a name, and the winner would get a free brunch. So now it’s called a Hornsey Bun - we make them every Saturday, it’s just a weekend thing but they’re very popular now as well.
WC: We should let you get back to your cakes, but is there anything else you want people to know about? Any plans for the future?
N: We started doing a supper club once a week actually, and it’s working really well, so look out for more of those.
WC: That’s a really interesting idea, how did that come about?
N: Well we’re not open in the evening, and it’s a very residential area. We tried opening later at first but it wasn’t worth it. But you know, sometimes it’s difficult around here to go out for dinner, people don’t always have time to go into central London. So we decided we could use the space and offer something to the community. The first one we did was a great success, and people kept asking us to do more, so we put in another four dates and they all sold out.
WC: That’s great. What’s the vibe and style of the evening?
N: There’s always a theme, we’ve done Persian, we’ve done South American where we did some beautiful ceviche and things like that, the last one was Autumn themed. We just get everything fresh from the market, and some of the recipes are from my childhood. Like spaetzle, it’s like a handmade gnocchi type thing. It’s made from smoked ricotta which we smoked ourselves, served with some beautiful fresh mushrooms.
WC: Sounds delicious. It must be nice to have that space to experiment with the food a bit?
N: You can definitely lose creativity after a while with the menus, but we are all foodies here. I can be creative with the baking, designing new cakes etc. The chefs love the process of designing the menu, so it gives us a way to do that and make great food with good fresh ingredients. But it’s just a really great atmosphere, we rearrange the tables so we can sit people in their groups, and it’s BYO with no corkage or anything. Most people who have attended have re-booked.
WC: Plus as a bonus you get to use the space that’s sitting empty, and it’s all pre-booked so you can calculate all the costs
N: So there’s zero wastage, exactly. You know what I’m talking about. You have to keep coming up with new things, keep improving, listen to your customers and hope it works.
WC: Thank you so much for your time, we’ll let you get back to doing what you do best.
163 Priory Road, London N8 8NB
Weekdays: 8:30am – 5:00pm
Weekend: 9:00am – 5:00pm
Our planet is bordered, split and segmented by two natural forces, oceans and mountains. Both are dominant features of any landscape, and wildly untameable. For centuries, people have been drawn to the top of one, and to the other side of the other.
In February we crossed an ocean, and it changed our lives forever. So naturally, we turned our heads skywards to find our next challenge. Neither of us have experience mountaineering, neither have we climbed or walked up anything notable.
In fact, the only time we have gained altitude on snow is via a chair lift.
Mont Blanc was the obvious choice. As the highest and most prominent in The Alps, its jaw-dropping beauty drew us in immediately. However, after some light-reading, it soon became clear that the white mountain was not a creche for aspiring mountaineers, but has in fact claimed more lives than any other mountain on earth. Rock-fall, hidden crevasses, fast-changing weather and the constant threat of avalanche makes the climb a far more treacherous endeavour than we had initially imagined.
Regardless, we had committed by this point, so that was that.
We arrived in Chamonix on 25th September, and spent the first few days at altitude, climbing the tallest peak in Italy, Gran Paradiso (4,061m). This was a ‘warm-up’ for the main event and would allow us to acclimatise to the altitude, train with an ice-axe and get used to the use of crampons. In the darkness of the early morning, as we were briefed on the day ahead, we sipped nervously on a batch of Loma Linda Pulped Natural.
The casual jaunt we were expecting never materialised. Instead we were put through our paces, scrambling over exposed rocky cliffs and shown the true power that altitude can take on the body. Compounding our problems, we'd forgotten the lunch we'd prepared for the 7 hour climb.
As we reached the summit (in a needlessly quick time) we began our descent of the mountain, until we were stopped in our tracks. We were severely dehydrated, seriously hungry and had a 4-hour descent of Gran Paradiso in front of us. We continued forward, but apprehensively. Our legs would not respond and our heads thumped due to the lack of oxygen.
In short, we learnt some sturdy lessons the hard way.
24 hours rest in Chamonix offered the chance to meet our guide and discuss the plan. We would spread the climb over 3 days. with day one would consisting of a slog from the valley floor up to the Gouter Hut (3,815m). We'd then attack the summit on day two before returning back to the Gouter Hut and making our descent to Chamonix on day three.
The days that followed were some of the hardest we have ever put ourselves through.
Day one gave us a taste of adventure, some incredible rock scrambling and basic climbing kept our focus sharp and adrenaline pumping. This was the most dangerous part of the climb, crossing long couloir’s of exposed ground prone to rock-fall, as well as scaling an intimidating face of jagged rocks and ice. At the end of day it, we arrived exhausted at the Gouter refuge, celebrating like we had already conquered the mountain.
We already had day two planned out in our minds. It was to be a day for glory, with a steady five or six-hour climb to the summit, a barrage of selfies and a casual jaunt back down to the Gouter for beers and laughs.
We could not have been more wrong.
We awoke that morning to the news of a storm fast approaching. Setting off into impenetrable winds, we drudged our way up the mountain with faces red and battered by the thin layers of ice being swept across us by the weather.
The route to the summit was a set of rolling inclines, each plagued with ice, crevasses and fresh powder from the previous night. This was officially the last climbing day of the season, and we seemed to be the only people heading to the mountains top. The lines of climbers had vanished from the months before, we found ourselves alone, isolated and entirely out of our comfort zone.
We reached the summit in 3.5 hours. This is less a testament to our mountaineering prowess than it is to our nutcase of a guide, Eric. On hearing of our voyage across the Atlantic, he decided we must be alpine machines and dragged us up the mountain at a pace not worthy of our experience. Within that time, we asked some serious questions of ourselves. Our bodies were not used to this strain, altitude and constant punishment. Our lungs screamed for air. Our heads felt close to explosion. Our legs had turned to jelly. But the summit loomed above us, urging us on, step after painful step.
At 4,809m, we stood on top of the tallest mountain in Western Europe, the clouds opened and we were greeted with the warmth of the sun. The turmoil of the previous hours and days washed away, and we simply stood their, saying nothing, surveying the landscape around us. Clouds hovered at eye-level, and distant mountain peaks glinted in the sun like an ocean of breaking waves. We'd pushed through the pain, stumbled, fallen and slid down many a slope, but had achieved what we had set out to do, and that was all that mattered.
This experience for us has opened up a new channel for adventure, and one we intend to explore. From a young age, reaching the top of something seems to be a natural instinct for humans. Whether a climbing frame, a building, or a tree, we have an obsession with being up high, and looking down at the world from above. This is probably why mountains often offer such reward for so many people.
We were incredibly lucky to be the only people on top of Mont Blanc at that point in time. Our experience was undiluted and personal and for a brief moment, we were totally cut off from society around us.
There's no place quite like Hurwendeki. A somewhat radical concept of a hair salon combined with an authentic Korean restaurant combined with a coffee shop, it can seem like a hard sell on paper, but once you step inside it just makes sense.
Patrons of the coffee shop are free to sit in the utilitarian yet bright and airy space that houses the Espresso bar, or in the waiting room of the hair salon - though to call it a waiting room is to gloss over the cosy yet grand atmosphere of the place. With a few soft leather sofas and armchairs in which to plant yourself, it's a perfect place to get some work done. Likewise, there are lots of paintings and decorative knick-knacks to hold your attention if you just want to escape from the world for a little while.
Head Barista Giles, formerly of Taylor Street Baristas, has been at the shop since spring 2016 and he has hit the ground running. He's been instrumental in adding filter coffee to the range, as well as the addition of retail coffee bags so customers can take a bag home to brew. For Giles, selling retail bags “Has always been an important part of the Barista job, because it's about sharing our knowledge with customers, and weaning them onto quality coffee”. Giles has changed the water from calcium-filtered to bottled, changed the tea to Joe’s, and changed the chocolate to single origin Madagascan by Jaz and Jul’s. “It's about a quality approach, and operating like a real speciality coffee shop”.
Best practices within the speciality coffee industry are constantly changing, and Giles is more than willing to adapt, “We used to follow the golden rule of 1:1.5 when I joined the industry, but thoughts on extraction have developed”. He's switched to VST precision engineered portafilter baskets and dropped the dose of espresso, aiming for better flow, a more even extraction and sweeter shots. In this way, he is constantly analysing Hurwendeki’s approach and their offering in order to give the best experience to every customer.
Giles says even in the last six months the response has been tangible. “We've seen more returning customers, loads of regulars who know our names, who ask about us. People come in saying they've heard the coffee is fantastic. If you make it, they will come”. When asked what he thinks Hurwendeki has to offer to the area in terms of coffee, Giles unflinchingly replies “Sheer quality. We are a real coffee shop, a serious coffee shop. We have grade A beans from Workshop made by well-trained staff who care. This isn't restaurant coffee”.
Giles admits however that it's not just about buying good beans, you have to have people who know how to use them, “We've got some well-trained, quality-focussed staff. We can all talk about the coffee, about processing and tasting notes, about brewing.” But Giles knows he has to stay vigilant as well, “I always say, you're only as good as your last espresso”.
Having a coffee shop attached to a restaurant and hair salon is a unique situation, but Giles says they all feed into each other in an organic way, “We keep it separate, so we're not running plates out, and we can focus on the coffee”. Giles acknowledges though, that the coffee shop has built-in customers in people waiting for a haircut, and the restaurant in turn has the opportunity to serve better coffee to their customers than they might otherwise have access to. “At the moment they're selling a fair amount of cold brew in the evenings, which pairs quite nicely with spicy Korean food”. The team will brew a batch in the day, and there are procedures to make sure it's fresh, and served in the best way possible. “I’ve let all the restaurant staff know that we have frozen glasses in the freezer on bar, so we don't have to serve it with ice and dilute the brew”, and the restaurant has recently started offering filter coffee as well.
So what's next for Hurwendeki? “We're planting a flag. We've already seen business pick up and I'd like to see that continue, and for Hurwendeki to be put on the map as one of the best coffee shops in the area. And then…”, Giles chuckles, “World domination”.
296–299, Railway Arches, Cambridge Heath Rd, Bethnal Green, London E2 9HA
Monday – Friday: 10:00am – 8:00pm
Saturday: 10:00am – 7:00pm
I’m still not entirely sure how I ended up owning a tandem. A friend and I decided we would cycle to Southern France and our pub logic dictated that it would be cheaper to buy one bike than two.
Turns out it was, and we did.
Then we found there were other advantages like no splitting up or waiting at the top of a hill, always being able to chat to each other but most of all it was fun.
When somebody sees us passing on tandem, it invokes one of two emotions - sheer joy or utter confusion. The former normally from children, the latter from old men (and both are just as funny to watch).
Having been on a few solo cycling tours, and after years of promising, it was time to (literally) take my girlfriend Brooke along for the ride. Cycling for me is the only way to see a country properly. I’m not normally a ‘quoter’ but there’s one from Ernest Hemingway that says:
“It is by riding a bicycle that you learn the contours of a country best, since you have to sweat up the hills and coast down them.”
I can confirm that this is doubly true on a tandem.
Greatest of all though, cycling means you get to eat (and drink) as much as you like (it’s fuel after all) and what better place to be fuelled than Italy.
We didn’t do too much planning for the trip. We were flying into Genoa and back from Rome 15 days later. Other than that, all we had on our to-do list were a few pretty towns, gelato, cheese, pasta and vino. We couldn’t go far wrong really.
Our first destination was Cinque Terre - five colourful coastal towns surrounded by mountains and connected by a train cutting through the cliffs. Unfortunately for us, tandems weren’t allowed on the train so it was the one road in (down) and one road out (up) for us. After three of the five towns and lots of pushing, we managed to beg our way onto the ferry - much easier.
From the coast we headed inland to the heart of Tuscany; Lucca, Montecatini, Siena, San Gimignano, Chianti, each town more stunning than the last. We quickly fell into the Italian pace of life, winding our way down through the countryside, stopping for swims and gelato when we fancied.
Everything we needed, we carried. Tent, food, clothes, water, wine, beer, cheese - all the essentials. The problem with one bike between two is that it means half the bags. We therefore had to be particularly strict when it came to packing. An AeroPress, some Workshop Coffee and a Porlex grinder ended up taking priority over an pair of pants.
Lugging coffee and a grinder may seem like an unnecessary luxury (especially when in Italy), but this trip wasn’t about speed. Camping, cooking and brewing were just as much part of the experience as the pedalling.
Though the landscapes, views and roads change daily and a daily routine quickly took hold and coffee always came first.
Laying in your sleeping bag, looking out onto a new view each morning, we'd go through the AeroPress routine and it was pure perfection. Along with a breakfast of banana porridge and local honey (or if we were having a lazy morning, scrambled eggs), our coffee tasted even better outdoors.
Riding through the stunning Italian countryside, your mind would wander to all sorts of places but quickly settle on food. Cycling became the thing we did in between eating; set off: café stop with pastries; a bit of riding; lunch of fresh bread, local cheese and ripe tomatoes; a little more pedalling; gelato time.
We got used to it pretty quickly.
Italy was everything we hoped for. The Tuscan landscape was as beautiful as imagined, the gelato as smooth as promised and the wine - well, tasted of wine (I’m more of a beer man).
Doing it all on a tandem made the whole trip even more fun, for us and the locals. People would genuinely smile, laugh and point as we passed. And the answer to the question that everyone asked and you’re probably thinking: yes, I do know if she’s pedalling (or not as the case might be).
In February James and myself visited El Salvador, a first for both of us, but not for Workshop Coffee. We’ve bought coffees through JASAL for the last three years and so we were feeling extremely priveliged and excited to meet the Salaverria brothers, Jose Antonio and Andreas, and to be staying at their Las Cruces mill in Santa Ana.
You may remember our espresso project from last year using coffee from four separate plots within the Finca San Francisco complex, which we released sequentially as opposed to bulking together for a more sizeable lot. We bought coffee from four distinct tablòns, and this year we found one of them, Loma Linda, to be particularly delicious every time we encountered in on the tables in the JASAL cupping lab.
The brothers offer a range of preparations of their coffees, and as they oversee not just the dry milling and processing, but also harvesting and even the maintenance of the health of their trees it is a unique experience to taste their coffees. We knew that it would be exciting to bring back a variety of different preparations from just one tablòn, and seeing how the Loma Linda plot always stood out we had found just what we needed.
The Loma Linda soaked lot was a great example of the high quality coffees JASAL are able to produce in reasonable, workable volumes. ‘Soaking’ refers to an additional step in their process, as coffees will generally be referred to as ‘washed’ when it has simply been mechanically scrubbed. This means that once pulped the coffee doesn’t undergo fermentation to break down the fruit sugars before drying. By using an eco-pulper and demucilaginator they effectively remove the mucilage with friction rather than the native yeasts and micro-organisms in the area. Soaking the coffee after this kind of pulping would seem unnecessary to a lot of producers, but we have noticed it can add more clarity to the cup, and when looking at the drying parchment on the patios at the Las Cruces mill the soaked lots were always more uniform, whiter and cleaner than their ‘washed’ counterparts.
The pulped natural lot from Loma Linda presented a real plump, brown sugar backbone which stood out against the background of the other P/N lots on the table, which tended to be more plain and nutty in comparison. The extra heft and body that the process typically brings about wasn’t so dominant in the Loma Linda lot, which displayed more delicacy, with orange rind and lightly toasted hazelnut flavours in the cup providing a little complexity. This was a pulped natural lot that we were interested in roasting and brewing, rather than for the sake of variation in our coffee range alone
We also got the chance to taste another experimental preparation that a parcel of fruit from the San Felipe tablòn had undergone. The brothers were calling it Doble Lavado (double washed) which involved an extra soaking stage. Rather than draining the soak water from the coffee after a primary soaking phase and sending it out to dry, clean water is added once again to allow the parchment to undergo a secondary soak (think Kenya processing with its multiple soaking stages). What we tasted in the cup was a much more pointed acidity, with a unique character that really intrigued us. Earlier that day we had witnessed ripe cherry still waiting to be harvested on the Loma Linda tablòn, and so we enquired as to whether a small portion of the remaining cherry could be processed in a similar manner to this experimental batch. The brothers obliged and we are lucky enough to have secured a few bags of the coffee to roast alongside the other two processes from Loma Linda.
The result of all this hard work is that we’re able to share with you another interesting project in collaboration with Jose Antonio and Andreas. Last year we took four soaked processes from four distinct tablòns in order to emphasise the difference that terroir and altitude would have on the lots. This year we are running three coffees from one small plot of land, but that have been processed in three unique ways. We’re excited to continue working with such progressive and hard working producers, and we hope you’ll enjoy the results of their labours.
It started as many good things do: with a conversation. Two sets of people creating altogether different products, but doing so in an incredibly like-minded way.
The more we spoke, the more we realised the stark parallels in our ethos and approach and so the swapping of stories soon transformed into mutual Roastery and brewery tours, the exchanging of ingredients and the beginnings of a collaboration.
Coming to us with various styles of porter made up of different types of hops, Brew By Numbers’ Cal and Bates worked with our Head of Quality, James Bailey, to find something that would balance well with our coffee. Unsurprisingly, a big part of the decision making process was which of our coffees we’d be using.
Looking for something bright and fruited to cut through the richness often found in a porter, we experimented with our Hunkute (Ethiopia), Los Altares (Guatemala) and Kagumoini (Kenya) roasts before finally deciding on Kamwangi (Kenya). Our chosen bean – which we’re due to release as an espresso in the coming weeks – was paired with a porter brewed using Willamette and Centennial hops to create Coffee Porter 10|06.
“We approached Workshop Coffee because they do what we consider the best coffee in London. We really appreciate their top to bottom approach, dealing with famers, processing the beans in their Roastery and roasting to a very high spec before getting the end result to cup via their coffeebars, retail sales and wholesale partners”
-- Bates, Head Brewer, BBNo.
Saturday 20th August saw the official launch of our collaboration, as throngs of thirsty beer lovers descended on the Brew By Numbers Brewery and Tap Room to enjoy a few weekend beers.
To celebrate and to complement the partnership, we braved the weekend winds to offer up two coffees from our filter range for visitors to enjoy alongside their porter. Serving Los Altares and Kagumoini throughout the afternoon, we were also able to enjoy BBNo.’s plethora of delicious beers as the day wore on.
The Brew By Numbers Coffee Porter is available to drink in and take home from our Clerkenwell Café.
Since we first began roasting our Cult of Done espresso five years ago, its only real constant has been change.
The moniker – taken from Bre Pettis’ Cult of Done Manifesto – was, and is, symbolic of an approach, an ethos and a way of working: everything is a draft, in a state of constant evolution in which we strive to revise, revisit, rework and improve.
It’s an ethos we’ve continually adhered to. Informing not just our beloved house espresso, but every coffee that has left our Roastery during our half-decade of existence, we’ve sought to continually refine our approach to sourcing, roasting and brewing the best coffee we possibly can.
We’ve learnt, we’ve pared back, we’ve simplified.
We’ve implemented additional processes, brought in new equipment -- all in the name of improving the cycle of quality andshowcasing unique, exciting and delicious coffees
Now it’s time for Cult of Done to evolve once more.
In offering coffee that’s clean, sweet and fresh (and therefore seasonal), we’ve always aimed to showcase the inherent characteristics and quality of the ingredients we source. For filter, that’s meant a single origin offering from the get-go and it’s increasingly been the case with our house espresso, too. Indeed, for eighteen months (or twelve versions), our house espresso has been single origin. From Hunkute to Serra Do Cigano, its contents have been from one lot produced by one farmer, cooperative or factory.
In the same way we defer praise to the producers for the quality in the cup in the rest of our range, we feel it’s time to do the same for our house espresso. It’s our most widely drunk and enjoyed offering and so the next iterative step in our espresso journey is to shine the light directly on those responsible for creating the potential deliciousness we’re charged with adequately tapping.
For us, it’s an exciting juncture. Removing the mental shortcut provided by a default option will no doubt bring with it a few immediate challenges. However, we also hope it starts a conversation and, as time goes on, that the reappearance of familiar names in the range – Duromina, Hunkute, La Parroquia, Gitesi – will help bolster the relationships we’ve been developing with farmers and producers over the years. In an effort to close the loop between sourcing and serving, we aim to bring those relationships ever closer to our customers and our wholesale partners.
So what changes?
Beyond the name, very little. Kicking things off by welcoming back Hunkute Espresso into our range, we’ll continue to offer between one and three espressos at any given time. They’ll always adhere to our three core tenets of ‘clean, sweet and fresh’ and each will be distinct. It’s just that now, more than ever before, it’ll be clearer why that’s the case.
There’s still more to learn and we’ll continue to tweak and tinker as we do. Here’s to the next phase.
Friends and long-time partners, The 5th Floor cycling team, have recently returned from their annual training camp. His legs having recovered, team captain Rudy summarises the trip and relives the short but sweet experience.
We at The 5th Floor try to get away as a team at least once a year and this year was no exception.
Heading to Mallorca, we treated the trip as a cycling camp – an opportunity to get in some mid-year training and miles – but also as a cycling holiday. The distances matter, but the latter was most important to us; an opportunity to go away with friends, have a good time and enjoy the rides.
Mallorca is the Disneyland of cycling. It’s a bit of cliché, with vast numbers of riders making the yearly pilgrimage there, but it’s a cliché for a reason. Just a couple of hours on a plane from London, its roads are smooth, its climbs iconic and its scenery close to unparalleled. We enjoyed coastal views, mountain passes and winding Spanish lanes both on and off our bikes.
The distance we covered wasn't huge, it was the vertical metres of climbing that were tough. 361 horizontal kilometres were covered, but within that was 6,783 metres of climbing in just four days – the equivalent of heading to the top of Mont Blanc one and a half times.
One of the best part of the trips was hanging out and spending time with friends. Dropping back and helping each other out if anyone wasn’t feeling particularly strong; making each other breakfast; preparing lunch – everyone had different duties, helping and contributing where and how they could.
My duty most days was to make our morning coffee. I took a large V60 dripper with me and would brew up a couple of 1-litre batches for the six of us to enjoy as we went about our pre-ride preparation and rituals before finally rolling out.
Grinding coffee for six people with a hand grinder was challenging, but fun – all a part of what became a morning ritual and allowing us to appreciate our morning filter event more.
To read more about The 5th Floor’s trip to Mallorca, and to keep up-to-date on their latest races, news and updates, you can visit their website.
Rudy and The 5th Floor team were brewing our Los Altares filter coffee using our ceramic Porlex Hand Grinder and a V60 drip filter. You can purchase some of the last bags of Los Altares here and find everything you need to brew the same way at home in our hardware section.