_ Several months before I started dreaming of getting into the coffee business I learned that there was a manufacturer of roasting equipment located in Corvallis, OR. Intrigued, I searched for it online and discovered the crude web page of aging coffee guru Michael Sivetz. A bit of research revealed Sivetz to be an intriguing and accomplished character who rigorously devoted his career to coffee science and invention.

When time came that I was interested in buying a roaster, Sivetz' machines were high on my list of ones to consider. I visited the shop and was helped by Diane (the sole employee) while the 90-year-old Sivetz hunkered around the corner with a newspaper and a cup of coffee. Diane was kind enough to introduce me. “HEY MIKE,” she yelled. “THIS...IS...JOSEPH. HE'S INTERESTED IN A ONE-POUND ROASTER.” Sivetz nodded with some unknown degree of interest or understanding.

Later when I actually purchased my roaster, Mike methodically walked me through the basics of operating his machine, while Diane (with caution and amusement) observed for signs of dementia and accidental misinformation.

When I called the shop last week to order some replacement parts, Diane informed me that Mike had passed away in March. A nice article was written in his memory here.

Mike Sivetz' major contribution to the coffee world was the invention of the “fluid bed” or “fluidized bed” air roaster, the name of which refers to how hot air levitates and circulates the beans such that the beans are said to behave like a fluid. Sivetz was passionately opinionated about the superiority of fluid bed roasting over traditional drum roasting, as seen in this article.

In my brief experience with Mike and in my reading of his work, I view his legacy primarily in terms of the promotion of science over art in the world of coffee.

The notion of “roasting as art” pervades the coffee industry. Stumptown Coffee Roaters draws on metaphors of music, architecture, and karate to lead into this excessively romantic statement on their website: “Coffee roasting consists of a balance of right-handed timing and intuition; it is an art that flows through the rigidity of time and temperature, but yields to the organic nature of craft.”

Closer to home, Ticos Coffee in Stayton employs the common term “artisan roastery” and goes on to say that they are “totally captivated by the art of roasting.” The French Press website says, “Some call it science, others call it art; we like to think of roasting as a little bit of both.”And in a Statesman Journal feature on Alyssa (Governor's Cup owner), she says this of roasting: “There’s a science to it, and a gut instinct, artistic part as well.”

I am completely enchanted by the notion of artistry in roasting, but as I actually entered the trade I started to have doubts about its authenticity. Were roasters co-opting the term “art” to sugar-coat inadequacies of knowledge and scientific understanding? Or was the coffee industry simply promoting the romantic notion of artisan roasting to market their product?

In this atmosphere, Mike Sivetz' completely unromantic treatises on coffee roasting were quick to engage my attention. He believed that the important elements of coffee roasting and resulting flavor were quantifiable, measurable, and with the right equipment (his own) reproducible. One of the significant features of his fluid-bed machines is the accuracy with which one can measure bean temperature, which Sivetz relates directly to roast profile and taste. I remember that when he was demonstrating to me how to use his roaster I asked about changing the settings to get different roast levels and he replied somewhat gruffly that there was no reason to roast outside of a very narrow range: it was as if he was unwilling to admit even that taste perceptions and preference could vary outside of his scientifically prescribed ideal.

Sivetz' fluid-bed air roasters are badly suited for artisan hype. They are more fully mechanized than most drum roasters. The roaster pays more attention to bean temperature than to the sight, sound, and smell of the beans. But the fundamental principle is the same with both methods: heat the beans up until they are roasted, then cool them down.

The debate over “drum-roasted” coffee versus “air roasted” can be mind-numbing if one delves too far into it. I didn't enter the coffee business with any preconceived preference but selected a Sivetz air roaster after a lot of deliberation with a major factor ultimately being the ease of going down to Corvallis and buying it in person. Both roasting methods certainly have a place in the industry.

To put things in a local perspective, the Governor's Cup (a fine establishment) uses a German-made drum roaster, as does Stumptown Coffee Roasters. The green coffee beans sit inside a metal drum which rotates as heat is applied underneath it. Air heats the metal drum and the metal drum in turn heats the beans (conduction heating). In fluid-bed air roasters the beans are heated directly by hot air (convection heating). In roasting it is imperative that the beans constantly move; therefore in air roasting it is the strong, focused hot-air currents that move the beans (see my roasting video), whereas the rotation of the drum is what achieves this goal in a traditional roaster.

There are some clearly identifiable advantages to both methods. In air-roaster's favor, it is more efficient to heat the beans directly rather than heating a metal surface to conduct heat to the bean. Also, since there are no moving parts in air roasting (other than the air itself), it is easier to accurately gauge the actual bean temperature by inserting a thermocouple into the roasting chamber. Furthermore, since the beans are completely immersed in the hot air, they achieve a more even roast. An advantage of drum roasting is that the operator has more control over the process: including the input of heat, air flow and humidity control. Of course, the operator must have adequate skill (or artistic ability???) to judge all these controls well, and inadequacy will surely lead to poorer coffee.

More subjectively, some people prefer the cleaner taste derived from air roasting. They say that heating beans via conduction on the surface of a drum creates harsh, scorched flavors; they also note that the chaff of the coffee remains in the drum, generating more smoke, whereas air roasters have the advantage of blowing off the chaff. Others, however, believe that drum roasting creates more complex flavors and that the less efficient (slower) heat transfer allows for fuller flavor development. Generally speaking, it is frequently said that drum roasting has a positive effect on coffee's body (creating a fuller mouth-feel) whereas air roasting improves a coffee's acidity (creating clean, bright flavor tones).

Mike Sivetz considered drum roasting to be an antiquated method. He blamed the failure of air-roasting to take over the industry on consumers' rigid taste preferences, which were developed in an era of drum-roasted coffee. He wrote, “One can only expect a newer method and product to take some years to replace a traditional one.”

Sivetz probably underestimated the value of tradition, beauty, and craft in roasting. Just one look at the architecture of a German Probat Roaster is enough to activate the senses and inspire an innate urge to sit with a steaming cup of coffee and pen poetry. Yet I am convinced that the romantic notion of artisan roasting is overstated. Even with a beautiful, manually operated machine, the roaster makes decisions that lead to scientifically observable results. Using sight, sound, and smell to determine when a roast is at the perfect point is not on par with Mozart composing a symphony. And if it were, then we would have to admit to the subjectivity of art and use a discerning palette to critique the artisan roasters work.

There is a beauty and romance steeped in the nature of coffee, which I hope not to degrade. But Steel Bridge Coffee represents a blending of pragmatism into that total picture, for which I am indebted to Mike Sivetz—a man whose legacy is alive and well.

 
 
Lots of people to thank for last Saturday's coffee tasting event. Richard (for hosting), Peter (playing music), Leah (chalk drawing), Audra and Sarah (brewing coffee), Tim and Isaac (playing more music), Luke (tech support), Erin (so many things), and more. Also, thanks to Eric at Breakfast on Bikes and Krist at Eat Salem for the publicity.

If you missed it, be sure to check out this video of the roasting process that we "debuted" on Saturday: Coffee Roasting in a Nut Shell.

Saturday's tasting experience focused on comparing roast profiles. In the future we will plan another event to highlight differences in various growing regions.
 
 
_ The wait is over for Steel Bridge decaffeinated Coffee. I now have in one bag of organic decaf beans from the state of Nayarit in Mexico. You can place your order right away.

Besides the decaf, I'm excited about the possibility of a long-term relationship between Steel Bridge Coffee and the growers of Nayarit, Mexico. The decaf beans came via a small-scale importing company, San Cristobal Coffee Importers (literally a “mom and pop” outfit), that has been working directly with Nayarit coffee produces since the mid-nineties, helping them improve the quality control of their product, finding markets for their coffee, and paying them a fair price.

It's important to note that San Cristobal is not importing Fair Trade certified coffee. I recommend reading their treatise on “Why not Fair Trade”: http://www.sancristocafe.com/articles/why_not_fair_trade.htm

I jumped on the Fair Trade bandwagon almost ten years ago and presumed that Fair Trade beans would be foundational to my coffee business; but now word on the street is that the certification process is mired in corruption. I'm not totally convinced that that's true but I am excited about being in business with an importer than I can speak to on the telephone, who emphasizes transparency, and who is already encouraging me to come visit the farm.

So give our decaf a try and let me know what you think. And be sure to peruse the San Cristobal website for more information about where it came from.

 
 
_ Steel Bridge Coffee offers three basic roast levels: light, medium, and dark. But what do those words actually mean? Since there are no universally accepted standards for the meaning of roasting terms, this article is intended to help you understand what they mean here.

First, a bit about roasting. Roasting is the process of bringing green, dry coffee beans (in actuality the “seed” of the coffee plant) to a temperature at which its chemical compounds literally change, converting it from an unpalatable substance into what we all know as the basis for a rich and aromatic steeped beverage. As the roasting progresses the beans simultaneously grow in size and lose mass (mostly through water loss), which is why you may notice that 10 ounces of dark roast fills up more of a glass jar than 10 ounces of light or medium roast.

When roasted coffee beans reach about 420°F they enter the palatable drinking stage. If the roast hits 485°F then you're probably dealing with a charred, ruined product. Steel Bridge Coffee roasts correspond approximately to the following temperatures: 434°F (light), 448°F (medium), 462°F (dark).

The character of roasted coffee relates to processes that occur during the heating of the beans and at what stage the heating is cut off. Roasters pay attention primarily to two stages known as “first crack” and “second crack” (both indicators of pyrolitic reactions in the beans). At around 400°F the beans begin making a cracking sound much like that of popping popcorn. During this cracking period sugars are caramelizing and flavor oils are being released. By 425°F, first crack finishes and the beans are quiet again. Caramelization continues to occur as the beans approach second crack. Second crack begins at around 450°F. This time the beans make a softer but more rapid crackling noise; flavor oils move to the surface of the bean and increasing amounts of smoke are emitted.

For Steel Bridge Coffee, our light roast is roasted just a little bit beyond the conclusion of first crack, but well before second crack. This is what might be called a “City Roast” or a “City+ Roast.” Our medium roast is cut off right on the verge of second crack and is what might be called a “Full City Roast.” The dark roast is cut off before the conclusion of second crack and could be called a “Vienna Roast” or a “Light French Roast.” It is possible to roast lighter and darker than the limits of our basic “light” and “dark” roasts, however we try to concentrate on what we believe to be an optimal range.

There are a few generalizations that can be made about the flavor characteristics of different roasts. For starters, the darker coffee is roasted the more it loses the distinct characteristics of its region of origin. To put it another way, if you drink light roasted coffee you will likely notice more diversity in your coffee flavor (as you sample coffee from different regions) than if you drink dark roasted coffee. Furthermore, lighter roasts are said to be higher in “acidity,” which in coffee terminology refers to a lively, palate-cleansing flavor (for some people this might be experienced as a positive characteristic, for others negative). Darker roasts are said to be less acidic and fuller in “body,” which refers to the tactile feel of coffee in one's mouth.

Many people seem to have the misconception that darker roasts are for more experienced coffee drinkers. The word “light” seems to incorrectly imply “weakness” to many people. Realistically, the “strength” of a coffee beverage is related only to the ratio of grounds to water during brewing.

It is true that “light” is the roast of choice for the inferior coffee that is mass produced by the country's major coffee players (e.g. Folgers). This is likely because lighter roasts (more than darker roasts) satisfy that great industrial value of efficiency: they take less time and energy to roast and they can be packaged in a smaller space than a dark roast of equivalent weight. The efficiency of light roasts ought not be disdained by the coffee aficionado. Folgers coffee is poor because of the strain of coffee they use (Robusta) and because it is stale by the time it reaches your cup, not because it is a light roast.

As a roaster myself, I quickly came to appreciate roasting efficiency and have become a lover of light-roasted coffee. But darker roasts are not to be ignored, especially for those who are looking to the micro-roasting industry for an alternative to the standard American industrial roast. Dark roasts can offer a richer, smokier, full-bodied cup of coffee that many aficionados crave. A dark roast is also typically recommended for espresso, although there's no reason why you can't run light or medium roasted coffee through your espresso machine.

In any case, I hope that you are able to find the roast that suits your tastes or (if you're like me) that you will enjoy sampling a variety of roast profiles. If you are interested in trying something lighter, darker, or in between what Steel Bridge Coffee normally offers, I invite you to order a pound and make a note to me with your roasting request.* Also, stay tuned for information on a Steel Bridge Coffee roast sampling event coming soon.

*Since I roast one pound at a time, I will only accommodate special roasting requests on full pound orders.

 
 
Alright, I'll be honest: Steel Bridge Coffee is more of a “me” than an “us.” My name is Joseph and I started the sole-proprietorship of Steel Bridge Coffee this fall, roasting coffee from my residence in the Edgewater Neighborhood of West Salem. I want to be your source for excellent fresh-roasted coffee beans.

A bit about me. I grew up in the San Joaquin Valley of California, a place where “California strawberries” actually taste delicious and where orchards of peaches, plums, and nectarines grow against the backdrop of the Sierra Nevada mountains. In 2001 I went from fruit basket to the bread basket and attended a college that sprouted up from the prairie of central Kansas. After graduating with a couple of marginally useful degrees I moved to my grandparents' home for the summer, working on a California farm of almonds, corn, carrots and cotton in the south valley, before opportunity knocked in Oregon.

Whilst working the fields in California that summer I would often hear train horns in the distance, the hum on the tracks would grow slowly louder and I'd pause wistfully as an Amtrak passenger train sped steadily by, disappearing into the northern horizon. Oh to be freed of my shovel and carried off by that steadily chugging machine away from the oppressive heat! Freed to a green place where the summers are mild and the landscape wild! To a place where you don't have to drain your rivers to irrigate your crops; a place where grapes are for wine not for raisins! To a place where beautiful people socialize in dimly lit cafes over espresso and talk about changing the world, or order their beer amidst laughter according to calculations of hop-profile and distance to brewery.

“Gonna buy me a ticket,” I said, “to the end of the line.”

I moved to Salem, Oregon in August of 2005 and didn't look back. I bought my first road bike and began exploring the Willamette countryside. I backpacked around the Three Sisters and dashed around on the sand of Pacific City. I acquainted myself with the northwest cafe culture and eventually developed an affinity for northwest beer.

Without a career in mind, I made my primary focus on living well and living sustainably. In time bicycle commuting became my norm and I was never happier. Next came waste reduction, organic gardening, chicken tending, and some other things that I won't bore you with.

In paid employment I've enjoyed focusing on youth and children and building holistic community values. I worked with ESL students at West Salem High for a year and then was on staff at the county juvenile detention hall for a year and half. Most recently I devoted three years to coordinating the Southeast Keizer Community Center and leading the youth ministry program at Salem Mennonite Church.

I'm excited now to go to work for myself and try to fill a small niche in Salem and Keizer. And I want Steel Bridge Coffee to be evocative of the best things Oregon has to offer. In 2008 I went on a 700 mile bicycle tour in Oregon that covered an amazing variety of landscapes: the Willamette Valley, the Cascade Mountains, the High Desert, the Ochoco Forest, the Columbia River Gorge, the Coastal Range and the Coast. We are in a wonderful and diverse place; and we are a diverse people. We are loggers and sawyers, we are ranchers and farmers, we are hipsters and hippies, we are fishermen and hunters, we are computer geeks and athletes, we are bridge-builders and we are bridge-builders, we are professors and bureaucrats, we are Beavers and Ducks, and so many things in between.

A former co-worker once told me, “You ride a bike and I drive a truck, but we're both trying to get to the same place.”

That's the right spirit and that's the spirit that I bring to Steel Bridge Coffee. Your coffee will always come to your door on a bike but whether you drive, ride or walk you can appreciate the difference that fresh roasted coffee makes and, more importantly, we can work together to build a beautiful, vibrant, diverse, holistic community in Salem, Oregon.




 
Coffee storage 12/05/2011
 
When Steel Bridge coffee is delivered to your doorstep you may notice that the mason jar lid is NOT firmly tightened onto the jar. Why?

This is because freshly roasted coffee emits CO2, which can have negative effects on flavor if sealed in to the jar (even as it does help prevent oxygen from deteriorating the bean quality.)

You've probably noticed that packaged coffee often has a valve near the top. Those are one-way valves that allow the coffee to vent CO2 without letting in oxygen. A lightly tightened mason jar serves as a makeshift one-way valve, therefore it is important that you not tightly seal your coffee for several hours after it was roasted. A rule of thumb is to seal it tight after between 12 and 24 hours. Steel Bridge coffee is usually roasted between 10:00 am and 1:00 pm on the day it's delivered to you. My suggestion is to seal the lid tightly after brewing your morning coffee the next day.

Twenty-four hours after roasting it is important that the beans ARE tightly sealed. It is also recommended that they be stored out of direct sunlight. Some people like to store their coffee in the freezer. I recently experimented with storing separate jars of the same coffee in the freezer, in the cupboard and on my counter for one week. There were not significant differences in quality between the three, but I judged the freezer coffee to be slightly better than the other two. However, some advise that if you are drinking your coffee daily then the frequent temperature change associated with freezer coffee can negatively affect the beans.

My recommendation is to not fret much over bean storage so long as you seal the jar tightly and keep it away from direct sunlight.

If you've done your own experimenting with coffee storage I'd love to hear about it.

 
 
There is a beautiful place that lies somewhere between snobbery and ignorance.

I've been on both sides. I grew up in central California with an orange tree in my back yard and you can't get me to touch a supermarket orange unless it's to play a game of catch. On the other hand, ask me to decipher between a $50 pinot noir and some three-buck chuck and I'll probably try to argue that the difference is all in the head.

There is joy in refining the senses to appreciate fine nuances and celebrate true excellence. Just as human intimacy enhances our joy in each other, so can deep knowledge of the food we eat heighten our gratefulness in every taste. On the other hand, for some people ignorance may truly be bliss, and a fanaticism for culinary perfection can stifle one's ability to walk peacefully through our beautifully flawed world.

But we all know that a strawberry plucked from a Willamette Valley garden tastes better than a pristine California behemoth pulled from a plastic carton.

Freshness matters.

When a green coffee bean is roasted the sucrose of the bean caramelizes, resulting in the emission of water and CO2...not to mention delightful coffee aromas. After roasting the beans continue to emit CO2 (decreasing over time) preventing oxygen from deteriorating the essential flavors of good coffee. If you brew your fresh coffee in a press pot you will observe a gaseous foam (known as the “bloom”) at the top of the steeping grounds; this is the sign of fresh coffee because it is still emitting CO2. About twelve hours after roasting, the beans should be sealed tightly in their storage jar and preferably kept away from direct light. In these conditions coffee will stay reasonably fresh for a full week.

You don't have to know the difference between a Ethiopian Harrar bean and a Guatemalan Antiguan to reject stale coffee in favor of a piping fresh roast. No matter what we eat or drink, it's important to enjoy it in its best form. There is a place for just drinking your coffee without complaining (perhaps while wearing your boots and Carharts on an early morning in a friendly neighborhood diner) but there is an even greater satisfaction in knowing good coffee and cherishing each sip at its height of excellence.

Join me at this beautiful place on the bridge between the banks of snobbery and ignorance.
 
 
I first became a coffee drinker when I moved to Salem in 2005, slowly growing in my attention to coffee details and appreciation for truly great coffee. In 2006 I bought my first press pot, in 2009 I sprung for a high-quality burr grinder. By 2010 when I began roasting green coffee on my stove top I knew that my quest for great coffee had become an obsession. In Salem I had mixed success trying to find a reliable source of great (fresh) coffee beans. Eventually I began dreaming of a way to fill the fresh-roasted coffee vacuum in my beloved city, which has resulted in Steel Bridge Coffee, a business that combines two of my greatest loves: coffee and bicycles.

Steel Bridge Coffee may carry an aroma of "Portland Hipster" but if you sip deep and let the flavors dance across your palette you'll notice complex notes of capitol city character and small town sense. I love Salem and believe that progressive business models will thrive here in unique ways as liberals and conservatives practice coming together to appreciate great products, imaginative ideas and common sense strategies.

Nearly every day I ride my bicycle across the old steel train bridge on Union Street, a bridge that a few years ago I could only stare at longingly from the narrow and noisy Marion Bridge walkway. The conversion of the train bridge into a bicycle and pedestrian river crossing in 2009 was an imaginative and sensible idea that brought Salem together and enhanced our fair city's landscape of cultural treasures; daily it enhances the quality of life for all those who walk across it and breathe in the healing power of an awesome landscape.

At Steel Bridge Coffee, my priority is to deliver a truly great product: always. Like a well-built steel bridge, I don't want my coffee to be showy, just consistent, reliable, and excellent. Along the way if I can spark Salem's imagination to do business in new ways and embrace new cultural frontiers, I'll chalk it up as gap well bridged.