I’d like to introduce you to Ellie.
Ellie is 51 and roasts her own E-Bay bought coffee beans in her back yard.
Okay, that may not sound like too much excitement, but a lucky (I’m sure – chosen - even) few were privy to her secrets and the tools of her trade. I will start by using the one sentence that Ellie started the whole process with as she took us to her back yard picnic table. “This is a simple process.” Remember that.
First, Ellie shows us a 1950’s caramel corn maker, with an agitator at the bottom to keep things moving. She plugs in a digital thermometer and tells us she’s just going to warm things up a bit.
Next, she drops raw coffee beans (no taste, no smell that I can discern) into the contraption until the agitator starts moving back wards. She pulls out about a dozen beans, because the agitator shows you how many beans to put in by its movement. Huh?
Ellie then puts the lid on her home-made roaster and tells us that the beans will go through a series of smells, none of them pleasant. She also tells us that we are waiting to hear the first crack of the beans as they are roasting. Simple? What?
Ellie explained that as the beans heat, they crack (it sounds like popcorn), but this is only the first crack. And Ellie is right; the beans smell like they are burning. Not a nice aroma at all. In fact, based on the smell, I could give up coffee completely.
Now that the first crack and three or four acrid smells have assaulted our nostrils, Ellie says we are waiting for the second crack of the beans, which is, by the way, a very distinctive sound that is quite different from the first crack.
I ask why these husk like things are flying all over. Ellie shows us the (simple) holes she’s drilled into her roasting machine, so the chaff flies out. The holes are bigger than the chaff, so it can easily separate itself from the beans.
I don’t know about you, but I think chaff flying out of any size hole sounds like a bad thing, and about this time, I think I have landed in the Ozarks at a distillery of one of my Hatfield ancestors.
The second crack has come and gone (not that I heard anything) and now our nostrils are being assailed with an amazing aroma that makes my brain scream ‘give me coffee NOW!’
After the beans have been cooled with a shop-vac colander contraption, the beans are ready. They find their way to the grinder, to the percolator, to my cup. And Ellie, here’s to you, for one of the best cups of coffee I have ever tasted. But girl, that process is anything but simple.
From 1/3/2007
