“Baristas are leaving the country…” the invitation to the Soltazza presscon announces. “… an Italian one stayed behind.” As eye-catching as the invite is the Soltazza machine itself, a pod-based, coffee maker capable of brewing espresso, coffee, and tea. It’s sleek, it’s silver, and as Evelyn Lim-Forbes, the woman responsible for bringing Soltazza into the country repeats like a mantra, it’s sexy. No-nonsense but exceedingly approachable, Evelyn’s excitement is evident – she wants coffee lovers to discover what she has about the latest coffee machine. “We drink so much coffee that [every other hotel] must have great espresso, cappuccino and latte,” she avers. Evelyn has also initiated the appreciation of local coffee through the latest in technology – Filipino coffee in pods. Filipino coffee beans are sent to New Jersey where they’re roasted, ground, and packed into filter paper pods. The pods are sealed in foil pouches with oxygen removed to maintain freshness. My mouth drops open when Evelyn tells me that the pods will stay fresh for up to two years. “But you’ll obviously finish them up before then, right?” She asks me, to which we both laugh. The Soltazza – sol meaning one, and tazza meaning cup, thus “one cup” ...

It’s taking me some time to get this coffee site up and running. After my talk at Starbucks, I go into a funk where all my creative juices are sucked out through a straw, to where I can’t imagine. I can barely keep up with one post a week on Dessert Comes First. If I could have it my way, I wouldn’t be anywhere near my computer. I must be out of my mind to think I can handle TWO websites, is my constant mental refrain. Then my family and I take a trip to Boracay and I have some really good coffee there. Slowly, I feel my juice coming back, like a cellphone that’s been teetering too close to low-batt for too long, and is finally being recharged. My coffee “epiphany” – that term is a bit strong, but I like the way it sounds – happens at Real Coffee. I’ve heard a lot about this place not really for its coffee, but because of the place’s famed calamansi muffins. I missed this place on my last trip and I wasn’t going to miss it this time. Put up in 1996 by an American woman named Nadine Rosaia (ro-SIGH-ya) and her ...

It starts with sour coffee, believe it or not. The beans I’ve been grinding and making my coffee with every morning consistently produces a brew so sour it gives new meaning to the term “acidity.” I try different things: alternating various bean types from the 12 or so bags that I have and using (thoroughly cleaned) various coffee makers – French press yesterday, drip today, etc. But I’m unsuccessful. It reaches a point that I start dreading my morning cup and on really terrible days, I delude myself into thinking that acidity (no matter how much) is part of good coffee. Delusional indeed. When I realize that I’m making every excuse not to drink coffee at home, I reach out for help. I send an email to every coffee expert I know. Though I try hard not to make my email sound like I’m desperate – which I very much am – it must be evident to Chit Juan, whom I met during last year’s Figaro Coffee Tour because she emails me back and we arrange to meet at Kape Isla. On that day, I bring the bags of beans that make the most offensive brew and show them to Chit. ...

If there’s anything that I like better than making a cup of coffee, it’s having someone else make my coffee and relaxing with it in a coffee shop. Here, some of my favorite coffees in the metro, great for drink-in or take away.

The first time I tried Barako coffee, it packed so powerful a wallop that my head involuntarily whipped backwards. Freshly brewed and given to me in a Styrofoam cup, it was – as the Turkish proverb goes – “… black as hell, strong as death…” although there was no way it was “… and sweet as love.” So unprepared was I for the caffeinated shock that I weakly asked my friend who had given me the coffee, “Got any creamer around, by chance?” I never take my coffee black, really, I’m not that macho (yet), but I’m terribly proud of our local coffee and patronize it whenever I can. There’s a place in Serendra called Kape Isla that honors Philippine coffee. It’s a little coffee shop with a big mission: to uplift the quality of Philippine coffee and to increase awareness about it. A project of the Philippine Coffee Board, the café complements its efforts to promote the finest Philippine coffee and to sustain the growing industry. The choices of beans alternate every two weeks and are featured as the Coffee of the Week. This is the perfect place to take my visiting friend from Canada who wants to ...

Note: All photos are from the book reviewed. I couldn’t wait to get a copy of Kapihan: A Celebration of Coffee in the Philippines (ArtPostAsia Publishing, 2007), authored by Paris-based food writer Noel Sy-Quia and photographed by Neal Oshima. My recent and ever-burgeoning love for coffee propels me to know all I can about the subject and a book about our local coffee is doubly exciting. Published by the creative minds-on-fire at ArtPostAsia Pte Ltd. who are also responsible for Foodlore and Flavors – Inside the Southeast Asian Kitchen, I know that Kapihan will be another visual treat. I must say that my excitement sours somewhat when I discover that the book is sponsored by Nescafé in celebration of its 70th anniversary in the Philippines (a page-long introduction by Nestlé Philippines’ Chairman and CEO greets me right off the bat). I have nothing against the country’s largest coffee producer and marketer – after all, Nescafé was the only coffee I knew for a long time– but I feared that the book would be just one extended promotional campaign for the brand with the words “Nescafé” and its mother company “Nestlé” injected in between every other paragraph. Though there’s no dearth of the ...

Moving on to the farther side of the market in search of the coffee stalls, we didn’t have to look for long before the intoxicating aroma of freshly-roasted coffee beans beckoned us closer. While Batangas is top-of-mind for most Filipinos when coffee is mentioned, it’s in the higher altitudes of the Mountain Provinces where coffee grows best. Bedazzled by the variety of light, dark, and medium roasts, I stuck my head into each coffee container and inhaled deeply, the heady fragrance filling my lungs. Since most of the coffee beans I already have are dark roasted, I decided on an Arabica Sagada medium roast (P240/kilo). old fashioned coffee grinder Upon seeing the poster for Coffee Alamid (P750/250 grams), I overhear my Bin telling my Canada-based cousin, Gabby, “Hey, did you know those coffee beans come out in the s**t of cats?” Gabby’s resulting expression of incredulity/disgust made me chuckle. from the post: The Baguio Market: Through A Visitor’s Eyes

My Coffee Odyssey Part 1 The book that changes my coffee life as I know it is The Complete Idiot’s Guide to Coffee and Tea. The title itself is quite anticlimactic, I know, and it certainly doesn’t suggest a capability of having great impact, but for me it does. And that’s all it takes. After reading the book, I gurgle like a newborn to anyone who will listen about the origins and production of coffee, how to brew coffee (and which methods are the best), as well as why the right (coffee) grind matters so much for each brewing method. My friends are amused, my sisters stare silently. During dinner one evening, as I’m bubbling on endlessly, my Bin grins and says, “My goodness, this has become quite a fascination! I might even learn to drink coffee because of you.” (He hasn’t. Yet.) my Krispy Kreme donut mug At coffee shops, I scan the menus with new eyes and wonder if I have the guts to order a lungo, a long shot of espresso that produces two to three ounces per shot as opposed to a single shot which is 1.5 ounces of brew. I study the barista with a watchful ...

My Coffee Odyssey Part 2 Note: This is a lengthy, reminiscent account of my journey into a now full-blown fascination with coffee. In honor of the beverage, this post (Part 1 only) highlights several of my favorite coffee photos, many of which have already been posted previously on this website. This is Then All I wanted to do was to brew a better cup of coffee for myself. I was tired of having my at-home joes teeter on the brink of decent to downright despicable dross. Surely, making a cup of coffee didn’t have to be based on speculation or ‘guesstimates.’ And while there are coffee shops less than a kilometer from where I live and play, my latte receipt totals were fast adding up and encroaching on my cookbook-buying budget. Horrors, something had to be done. coffee and cake My relationship with coffee has been bittersweet. Growing up, adults would always warn me to stay away from the stuff because it would make me “stop growing.” Of course now I know that’s not true and you can bet I’m not mouthing off that excuse to 5 year old Boo who shows an occasional fondness for iced mochas. ...

gourmet coffee store After rolling ourselves out of the restaurant, we wander the shops situated in the area which I’m kicking myself now for not remembering the name of. (Have to ask Yappi!) The strong smell of coffee beckons me into what’s called a gourmet coffee store selling everything from beans to coffee makers. The only thing that’s missing is the actual serving of coffee itself. Walking Chuo city at night Some other things I see: Japanese bookstore woman selling Japanese snacks Walking home, we cross a bridge near the Sumida River. We spy a boat ferrying passengers who are undoubtedly enjoying this beautiful, moonlit night. I snap a photo and smile, already excited for tomorrow. a boat sails on the Sumida river at night from the post: Tokyo, Japan: This Isn’t In Your Guidebooks