FROM THE PUBLISHER
Connie Blumhardt
I'VE FINALLY DONE IT and it only took four years.
After four years of publishing a well-crafted, educationally
sound publication dedicated to roasting specialty
coffee, it seems strange that it took so long to
be writing about my first solo flight on my own
roaster.
(Translation: I’ve been so busy running a company
and publishing a magazine, and raising twin girls,
that I sometimes can’t find time to brew coffee,
much less roast it.)
Last fall, to further our development as a magazine
and as leaders in the roasting community, Roast decided
to purchase a roaster. Like most things in life, writing
about this process is easier than actually completing
this process. There are many choices of manufacturers
(most of them our loyal advertisers), styles, sizes,
and even colors. I sympathize with all of you who
have agonized over the details of choosing the proper
roaster. In the end, we ended up with a small, two-kilo
roaster.
(Translation:
I was overwhelmed with choices and it took several
months just to decide what to buy. Picking a roaster
is hard, especially when we can’t
buy one from each of our manufacturing advertisers.)
I decided to set up shop in my quaint, turn-of-the-century
carriage house, a rather typical place for a first
roaster. The day it was delivered was a very exciting
day and once uncrated, even the neighbors were curious
to see the new “toy,” as they called it.
(Translation: The only room we have is in our small,
old, detached turn-of-the-century garage; and I mean
the first turn of the century. After removing 200
screws, nuts and bolts, the machine was uncrated and
sitting in the middle of the garage.)
I was sure that fresh coffee would be spilling out
of the chute in no time.
(Translation: That was five months ago.)
It turns out that installing a roaster wasn’t
quite as easy as I had imagined. It took three trips
to the restaurant supply store just to find the right
table to support the roaster. The two boxes of duct
work that arrived made me think, “what do I
do with that?” and then came the SCAA show,
which took my full attention for most of late winter
and early spring.
(Translation: I needed help.)
At the SCAA show, I ran into a friend of mine, Chuck
Weber from Wholesale Coffee Roasters in Eugene, Ore.
It turns out that Chuck is not only a seasoned coffee
roaster, but is also an expert in the installation
of duct work. A very valuable combination. A few weeks
after the SCAA show, Chuck had the roaster up and
running in an afternoon, roasted a few test batches
and headed back to Eugene.
(Translation: I think the roaster would still be sitting
in the middle of the garage if Chuck hadn’t
offered his assistance.)
After Chuck left, I decided I would roast my first
batch. I’ve watched others roast hundreds of
batches and read about it a thousand times, but as
Shanna wrote in one of her previous editor’s
columns, there’s a big difference between reading
about the Sistine Chapel and actually experiencing
the Sistine Chapel.
(Translation:
It’s fun to copy material for
your column from your editor.)
I turned the machine on and thoughts started to run
wild in my head. “Did I drop the beans at the
right temperature? Did I have the gas up too high?
What’s that smell? Is that still first crack
or is it the start of second crack? It’s not
if you’ll have a fire, it’s when.” After
a moment of these chaotic thoughts streaming through
my head, I calmed down and remembered all of the things
I’ve read about over the last few years. I dumped
the coffee and it looked pretty good.
(Translation:
No fires! Yes!)
The next day, I cupped my first batch and to my utter
surprise, it was quite good. My first roasted batch
(Colombian from Mesa de Los Santos) was a success.
(Translation:
It really helps to start with great green coffee and
a little help from my friends. And I have a lot to
learn.)
Warmest regards (no translation needed),
Connie
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