Espress-ing My Newfound Love

I hardly drink coffee. I’ve tried it a few times when I was younger but I never really developed a taste for it. That adult ritual my parents followed each morning didn’t rub off on me. Each cup smelled darned good but, for me, the aroma didn’t make the drink taste good. I was never really attracted to the generally bitter taste of the drink. And, somehow, adding sugar and cream made it worse. I’ve always had to wash a few sips down with a lot of water to get rid of the acrid aftertaste.

When visitors would arrive, Mom or I would prepare coffee for the guests. While I enjoyed preparing the stuff (even if we would only serve instant coffee), I could never understand why people would want to take a piping hot beverage on a sweltering or humid afternoon. I just didn’t get it.



Everyone else drinks it...

“Good coffee,” I would hear people say. Or “My secretary makes the best coffee.” Or, “You can’t talk to him until he’s had his first cup.” Gee. I couldn’t relate. I didn’t even know what good coffee was. Or what made people swoon over a great cup of joe. And yet, coffee is a billion-dollar business worldwide, second only to petroleum. All over the world, people consume 1.4 billion cups everyday or up to 400 billion cups of coffee a year. Billions of coffee drinkers around the world must know something I don’t.

But just because everyone else is drinking it shouldn’t mean that coffee is the only beverage of it’s kind available to all. It always irked me that at conferences, seminars and other gatherings in hotels, for instance, only coffee and water are usually served. What about people like me who prefer caffeine-free, herbal teas? At some point in my life, I became quite sensitive to caffeine that I would palpitate and feel nervous for hours after having a caffeinated drink.

When Starbucks came to our shores, I would have the occassional frapuccino; but that was it. If I remember to order it decaf, I’d be okay. Otherwise, I’d have to find a way to expend the jolt of energy that kicks in after I finish a 12-ounce cup.

I have a bottle of instant coffee at home which I bought for the chocolate tiramisu and truffles that I occassionally make. I keep it handy too in case I have house guests who prefer to drink coffee than tea or dalandan juice. I’ve never really used the coffee to drink myself.

Genuine espresso

Which is why I surprised myself when I decided to go to the Enderun Colleges in Ortigas to attend an illy coffee seminar over the weekend. Illy is a renowned brand of coffee made by generations of the Illy family in Trieste, Italy, located about one hour away from Vienna, Austria. Illy technical consultant Maurizio Crotta shared the basics of making espresso, something I wasn’t even curious about before that weekend.

The making of coffee, espresso in particular, is an age-old tradition in Trieste, and Italians from this region pride themselves in the quality of their espresso. Espresso is an Italian invention which made its debut at the Paris Exhibition in 1855. The word literally means “fast” and the drink is made and drunk that way—a shot of espresso is extracted and brewed within 25 seconds—give or take half a second—and drunk in about 2 to 3 sips. Traditionally, you don’t sit al fresco and nurse your espresso as you watch people go by.

It was only natural that the coffee geniuses of South Italy invented the first espresso machine in 1908. By 1961, they’ve created a much more sophisticated espresso machine with a built-in pump. Using 90 atmospheres of pressure, 90°C water is forced through 7 grams of ground coffee beans. This process extracts the oil that is naturally present in the grounds, which makes for a velvety texture and forms a 3 to 4 millimeter thick layer of crema, a creamy, reddish-brown foam on the surface of the drink.

Most everyone who attended the seminar got a shot at making two cups of espresso each. It wasn’t much work because the machine was already set up, the beans were ground, and the cups were warmed just right (around 50 to 60°C). All we needed to do was load the ground beans onto the machine, and hold the espresso cups close to the spouts to prevent any unnecessary cooling of the drink. You’re not supposed to fill the whole cup; Maurizio stopped the machine as the cups were halfway full.

It was amazing to see the crema form on the surface, and even more amazing to smell the aroma and taste the creamy, velvety texture of this concoction. So this is how good espresso is supposed to taste! It made me feel quite heady, but there was nothing unpleasant about it. There was a “kick” to it, but it was not like a surge of electricity that made me fidgety or nervous. At first sip, it still had that bitter tang, but it quickly transformed into a creamy and full-bodied flavor that lasted long after I had finished my cup. However, there was none of the aftertaste I had grown to dislike in coffee.

Bean there...

Part of this great flavor probably has to do with the beans used that day. They were illy beans, of course, which are 100 percent arabica. I’ve learned that arabica beans are from Coffea arabica trees that are grown about 800 to 2000 meters above sea level, while robusta beans are from Coffea canephora trees, grown at about 0 to 600 meters above sea level. Growing and harvesting arabica is much more labor-intensive because of the location of the trees, and its berries are more susceptible to insects, disease and the elements. Robusta beans, on the other hand, come from trees that are quite hardy and more resistant to disease.

More importantly, as author Harold McGee writes in “On Food and Cooking,” arabica has less caffeine (1 to 1.7%) than robusta beans (2 to 4.7%), less phenolic material, which gives the brew its bitter taste (6.5 vs 10%), a higher oil content (16 vs 10%), as well as a higher natural sugar content (7% vs 3.5%).

This is probably why when we made cups of capuccino that day—with 1/3 layer of espresso, 1/3 layer of steamed full-fat (at least 3.2% fat) milk, and 1/3 layer of foam—it tasted great even without any kind of sweetener.

I was happy to have a second cup of espresso, however; which, I believe, was unusual because tradition supposedly dictates that one cup is enough for a day. But with the madelines, fruit tarts and pound cake they served that day, it was a heavenly combination that was difficult to resist.

I have to say I’m a convert. I have a new appreciation for coffee now, particularly espresso. It will probably be a while before I am able to make that perfect espresso brew, however, especially since I do not have a machine at home and so will not be able to practice the science and art of making espresso. So I will have to content myself with sampling other people’s brews for now but, this time, with a more discerning eye, nose and palate.