Traditional Japanese Tea Ceremony

Remember when you were a kid...

     ...and you gathered all your teddy bears and barbies and some of your brother's action figures around your little toy chest, which had your patchwork blankie on it as a table-cloth, and a makeshift tea-party in which you sipped air and spoke to inanimate objects in what you once thought was an English accent...

     Those were the days... weren't they?

     Well, originally--a long, long time ago, before imaginary afternoon teas in the your mummy's closet, tea parties were taken much more seriously. Particularly in Japan.

The Japanese Tea Ceremony...

     ...also called Chanoyu, Sado, or Ocha (in Japanese) is an elaborate, almost choreographic process, which easily lasts for several hours, and requires the meticulous use and precise placement of over a dozen utensils, including:

• 棗 Natsume: tea caddy used when serving 薄茶 Usucha, or thin tea. Natsume are considerably smaller than their koicha-tea equivilent (the cha-ire, see below). For instance the natsume to the left is less than three inches tall, yet it's selling for 280 bucks. It's made from walnut tree wood, and as you can see is quite ornate. The natsume to the bottom right is from the seventeenth century (Edo period) and features a "drooping cherry" lacquer design. Both, as you can see, are quite exquisite.
• 茶入 Cha-ire: larger, elaborately adorned, usually ceramic tea caddy, used for serving 濃茶 Koicha, or thick tea. It is displayed for viewing by guests at the end of the ceremony.
• 仕覆 Shifuku: drawstring pouch used to carry cha-ire into tea room

• 茶碗 Chawan: the tea bowl
• 茶筅 Chasen: tea-whisk, carved from a single piece of bamboo, used for mixing matcha
• 茶杓 Chashaku: teensy-tiny tea scoop, carved either from ivory or bamboo, looks like a miniature hockey stick
• 柄杓 Hishaku: long bamboo ladle, for scooping hot water into the matcha bowl
• 茶巾 Chakin: a rectangular white linen cloth used to clean the chawan
• 布巾 Fukin: hemp cloth used to wipe the rim of the chawan after serving to a guest
• 袱紗 Fukusa: silk cloth used to clean tea scoop

• 古帛紗 Kobukusa: or 出帛紗 Dashibukusa: personal silk napkins
• 蓋置 Futa-oki: bamboo or ceramic ladle rest
• 釜 Kama / Chanoyugama: the kettle / iron pot.
• 水指 Mizusashi: cold water container, such as the one to the left, ca. 1720 (Edo Period)

     Some spend many years studying the precise and exquisite art of hosting such a ceremony. Many even attended schools called Sansenke... Yeah, man, I've got a Master's in making tea... 
     It's supposed to be relaxing, but honestly I'd be too busy worrying about which napkin is for what to relax and enjoy my frothy green tea, but the ceremony functions to bring people together. Friends, family, and loved ones meet in a serene study room called a shoin and bask in the pleasure of each other's company, so what's not to like about that?

     In the mid-1300's, anyone present at a Samurai tea ceremony was expected to consume at first ten, then twenty, and eventually a hundred cups of tea per person in one sitting. I mean... were they allowed to get up to use the restroom? Or is that strictly forbidden, for some reason?

     Too many rules make me nervous. I'd much rather just put the kettle on the stove and plop a tea-bag in my mug. Although, on the other hand, a Japanese tea ceremony makes for a much more attractive presentation than my usual morning routine.

SOURCES

http://japanese-tea-ceremony.net/ 

The Evolution of Coffee

“In an attempt to demystify the sometimes vague and pretentious world of coffee…” (Noah Sanders)

Alright, Let’s Take This One Wave at a Time...

            Coffee took off in the United States around the mid-1800s, after the tax on imports was abolished in 1832, and coffee became more available. It’s cheapness caused it to eclipse tea as America’s favorite steamy caffeinated beverage.

            The “waves” simply function to discern three distinct eras of coffee consumption across the U.S.

The First Wave

         The United States, to no one’s surprise, were first to industrialize the coffee biz. The emergence of the first so-called “coffee giants” (Maxwell House, Folger) reflects America’s inclination toward big business. Sanders describes this as “a grim time. The maxi-producers saw big money in shoveling cheap, badly flavored beans to the masses with an emphasis on getting the biggest bang for your very measly buck.” And even though it tasted like sour sludge, America was instantly hooked.

            I guess you could say the U.S. invented “crappy coffee.” Always ready to slaughter quality to save a buck or two.

The Second Wave

            After a century of tolerating this putrid bitter piss-water, America had had enough. Fussy husbands became more critical of their crappy coffee, according to the ad to the right. Wives were even spanked for selecting poor quality coffee, punished by their fussy husbands for not "taste-testing it first" according to the even more sexist ad below. Those were real advertisements by the way.

            Anyway, it all started with Alfred Peet. “Tired of terrible coffee and keen on what could come from well-roasted, well-sourced beans, Peet focused his efforts on small batches of artisanally roasted beans” (Sanders).

            This prompted Alfred to open the first Peet’s in San Francisco, 1960, subsequently inspiring the Starbucks explosion, and thus introducing the world’s two most colossal coffee chains.

            The most significant thing to take away from the second wave was the commencement of espresso drinks into American culture.

The Third Wave

            We’re in the third wave now. Once the focus shifted to “sourcing from individual farms and co-ops and a lighter roasting style that accentuates the individual flavors of the beans” (Sanders), attention to detail and the pretentiousness now often associated with coffee skyrocketed. People care where their beans come from, which farm, which roaster, etc. People care about the quality. They care to use a particular type of milk, and prefer a particular foam-to-milk ratio, they get way too serious about their sweetener, and demand ridiculous modifications, such as I’ll have mine three-quarters decaf, please. Bitch, Ima caffeinate your ass straight back to Brighton, or wherever the hell you came from.

            Thus were born the inevitable coffee snobs—they come with every beverage. You know those douchy assholes who can detect notes of this and that in their wine, down to where the goddamn grapes were grown. Well, so is now the case with coffee, whose “beans are [now] discussed like expensive bottles of wine” (Sanders).

            Some “Local third-wavers include Sightglass, Ritual, Four Barrel, and Verve. If you've consumed a cup of any of these roasters, you've indulged in the glistening existence of third wave coffee” (Sanders).

The Fourth Wave

            Whether or not the fourth wave is upon us is unclear. Some coffee shops claim to have made the transition, but the fourth wave has yet to be defined, and as far as I’m concerned it’s a bunch of bullshit.

SOURCES:

Sanders, Noah. “Dear Coffee,” SF Weekly Blogs. Web. 26 Dec. 2011.

http://blogs.sfweekly.com/foodie/2011/12/dear_coffee_what_are_these_wav.php  

Juustoleipä

     Juustoleipä, Finnish for "bread-cheese"is a bizarre and mysterious coffee-dipping phenomenon popular in Finland and some parts of Norway, not to mention quite a mouthful. It is cubed or sliced into biscotti-esque strips, and has a buttery, squeaky consistency, and is traditionally made from reindeer milk.

     To be honest, all I've ever dipped in coffee is a donut. But I intend to find and try this stuff... I wonder where I can buy it.

     Look at it. It looks like a freaking cube of tofu. Or flan. I like flan, but I'm not a huge fan of tofu... I wonder if it jiggles...
     Anyway, if I manage to get my hands on the stuff, I'll definitely let you know what I think.
     I wonder what reindeer milk tastes like. How do you think it steams?... Do they make reindeer milk lattes in Finland? They should.

     Phyllis, from a blog called Me Hungry describes the cheese as having "a mild buttery flavor, similar to mozzerella but a bit saltier." Similarly, some Ethiopians take their coffee with salt, as you should know from my previous post. I hope you're taking notes because there's going to be a quiz.
     Just kidding.
     Except, Ethiopians who take their coffee with salt abstain from adding cream and sugar, unlike the Finnish who find the bread cheese goes best with a sweet, creamy cup of coffee.
     Interestingly, Phyllis suggests cubing the stuff and then sautéing it enough to brown each side until the middle gets melty and it looks like a mini-pancake.  Best topped with jam, honey & walnuts or maple syrup.

Coffee Watercolor

"Coffee Connoisseur"

By Angel Sarkela-Saur

See more at: http://justcoffeeart.com/gallery.html

Nude in Watercolor, Cinnamon, Coffee & Curry

By Partick Bornemann

Charcoal & Coffee Rhino

Alright this last one isn't actually painted with coffee, but what's cuter than a squirrel sipping a cup of coffee? See more adorable animal art by Ontario's own Diedre Wicks.

Finally, the "My Coffee Got Cold So I Made an Owl with It"

http://imgur.com/t5ciV

Some of My Stuff

Please forgive the crappy quality, I took these with my phone:

Got Milk?

    My favorite thing used to be stocking milk. I used carry ten milks at once, without a milk crate, it was amazing. I mean I dropped one every now and then and had to deal with the occasional cracked upside-down carton of milk as a result, but no worries. I can't stand those girls who run to the back to get one or two milks. Those women are WEAK. Possibly because they never drank enough milk in the first place, but I did, and I now have bones of steal.
     I think my love of milk made for easier steaming... helped me understand the milk, how to keep the foam fine and creamy. I don't know if liking milk really makes a difference, but I like to think it does, because like I said I love the stuff.
     Anyway, every now and then I'd run to the walk-in to pick up the milk and we'd have a "barista half and half"from Straus Family Creamery. I always wondered why, of all the milks to order in "barista" form, why on earth we ordered a half and half, because we had about one breve a week and the rest was just to top off people's coffees. Plus our regular milk seemed to steam just fine to me, so why the sudden switch to this barista brand?
     I mean except for soy milk which always clumps and bubbles and burns. I'm pretty sure soy milk isn't really meant to be steamed. We used Wildwood, which worked okay sometimes, on a good day, if shaken extremely well. Silk didn't steam as well as Wildwood from my experience, but either way, I am yet to find a soy milk that steams to my satisfaction. So it occurred to me, why didn't we ever try some "barista soy milk?"
     So I took a stroll onto the Straus Family Creamery website to get a better idea of what makes barista milk barista milk in the first place. According to the website, Straus determined the perfect level of homogenization: "We homogenize our Barista milk only very lightly – just enough to keep it emulsified, but not so much as to drastically change the taste or digestibility of our milk." (Emulsify means to mix or disperse evenly.) This makes for "consistent, easy-to-use milk (no cream separates or rises to the top), that also retains a sweet, well-rounded taste and lasting finish... It is also prized by baristas for creating small, tight bubbles in the foam when steamed for coffee drinks." Which sounds great, don't get me wrong, but only applies to cow's milk.
     Although some cafes swear by Straus, they only deal in actual dairy, so I decided to dig a little deeper. My mission to track down steamable soy was a success. Behold: Soy Milk, Barista Series by Esselon Coffee: "Specially formulated to be used in espresso based drinks. Made to withstand high temperatures and foam so beautifully, you’ll think you’re using dairy milk!" Now all I need is a steamer to test the stuff... Can anyone vouch for Esselon? Anyway, try it and let me know--post a comment below.

Black as Hell, Strong as Death, Sweet as Love

     "Coffee was first brought to Istanbul in 1555 by two Syrian traders," according to http://www.turkishculture.org/culinary-arts/turkish-coffee-52.htm. "It became known as the milk of chess players and thinkers," and quickly infiltrated many aspects of Turkish culture, including political & social interaction, weddings, prayer, hospitality traditions, etc.
     Elaborate ceremonies were born. Serving coffee for the Sultan once required the help of over forty assistants in the ancient Ottoman times.
      Women in Turkey used to receive intensive training in the art of preparing Turkish coffee properly, in the hopes of attracting a husband, because a woman's merits were once measured by her ability to brew, and still ought to be as far as I'm concerned. I make a damn good cup of coffee.
To this day, when a young man asks a woman's parents permission to marry, a formal coffee is still had between both families in traditional Turkish households.

     Other than that, coffee was simply a means of socializing. As they say in Turkey:

One neither desires coffee, nor a coffee house.

One desires to talk with others,

Coffee is but an excuse.

Men used to meet in coffee houses to discuss politics, and play chess or backgammon. Such coffee houses often featured entertainment in the form of "shadow theater"-- satirical political/social criticism performed by puppets. I really hope that's still a thing.

     To make Turkish Coffee, Arabica beans are finely ground to a powder, sometimes with cardamon seeds. (Others sometimes boil the seeds whole in the brewing coffee, which then float to the top when served.) The coffee itself is prepared in a cezve, a sort of ladle-like bulbous pot with a handle, often ornately decorated to match the cups, which even come with lids! So damn cute. If prepared properly, the coffee froths a bit as it brews, forming a thick layer of foam.
     This coffee, let me tell you, is killer strong, thicker than American coffee for sure, because the fine coffee powder turns into a paste, and the sludge leaves behind streaks in the cup as you sip. Once finished, the cup is turned upside down in the saucer, and the hostess reads then reads the guests fortunes, like reading tea leaves.
     Coffee is served with Turkish delights, or sorbet of licorice, poppy, or tamarind. 
     Coffee has become such a significant influence on Turkish culture that their word for the color brown: kahverengi literally translates: "the color of coffee, and breakfast: kahvalti simply means "before coffee."Cute right?
(http://caffeinetime.wordpress.com/2011/06/02/156/)

Buna Dabo Naw

     The way people consume their coffee says a lot about who they are, and also has a lot to do with where they come from. For instance most Americans are willing to sacrifice quality for a quick cup of coffee, because we value efficiency. Time is money, after all. We want our coffee fast, and caffeinated as hell.
     Americans also have the unfortunate habit of being constantly on their way somewhere in a hurry, so we take our coffee to go. Except the concept of taking your coffee "to go" could be simply absurd, unheard of, or even offensive in other parts of the world.
     I'm gonna tell about coffee in Ethiopia, just for comparison-sake, and then we're gonna anthropologicize it a little.

     In Ethiopia, to be invited to attend a coffee ceremony is a sign of utmost respect and friendship. To decline would be a total insult, unlike here (the US) where flakiness has become a social expectation, excuses programmed into our smart phones. Ethiopians, however, value hospitality, and never hesitate to brew a batch of coffee for a visitor. There is also no such thing as a quick cup of coffee. These ceremonies often last up to several hours, during which the raw beans are roasted on a metal pan until they blacken and glisten with oil, ground by a pestle and mortar, then brewed in a jug called a jebena.
     The youngest announces when it is ready, and the coffee is poured into tiny cups. The eldest person present is served first. Coffee is taken with sugar, no milk (in fact, on the country side taken with salt). Peanuts, cooked barley or popcorn come with, and over the course of the next couple hours the spirit is said to transform over three cups of coffee: the first is called Abol, the second called Tona, and the third Baraka.
     Participating in a coffee ceremony is considered sacred. They have a saying, "Buna dabo naw," which means "coffee is our bread." The ceremony stands for their appreciation for each other, the time they take to be together, gather with their loved ones. Most families where I'm from don't even eat together. It just goes to show, anyway. I think we could learn a lot from Ethiopia's style. Maybe we don't always have to be in such a hurry. Maybe we ought to stop and just make some coffee with someone we love.
     Seriously.

http://www.epicurean.com/articles/ethiopian-coffee-ceremony.html