It is perking into my consciousness bit by bit while I peck away at my keyboard. A hot brewing thing demanding attention and stirring me to action.  I never meant for this to happen but it has insinuated itself into my life and I feel a need to share.  A little background first.  I live near a very small  village in the wilds of New Hampshire.  It’s darn hard to keep secrets in a community  this tiny. This post deals with one such secret.

Digression.

During my career in kitchens I, along with every other cook in kitchens world-wide, clung to my glass of coffee as if it were a built in extension of my arm.  The energy and alertness derived from it sustained me through countless hours of line cooking and early morning prep sessions.  The focus was on the stimulation the brew provided not so much on quality. A helpful boost in dealing with the pace of a kitchen.

Fast forward.

I stepped back from day to day kitchen supervision and settled in my cabin-in-the-woods and a gentler life style.  Still,  there was coffee.  I further admit to purchasing the least expensive, grocery shelf grounds available.  The mind-set was still about the ingestion of caffeine you see.

The secret – one small farm.

If you were here I’d take you for a short trip down the road to the general store/post office,  hang a right on Federal Corner Rd. and follow it up the hill past the end of the pavement and turn left on Burleigh Rd.  A short distance further brings us to the picturesque antique farm of Jim and Annie Clark.  It’s not the most remote spot in the world but it’s far enough that cable access hasn’t reached there yet. Peacefulness abounds on Burleigh Road, hiding the small, albeit intense and fervent, enterprise called Black Bear Coffee.

I had heard that they were producing coffee up there and decided to introduce myself and take a peek. I did so. I tasted. I became an ardent fan.  They are doing for coffee what Napa Valley did for wine 50 years ago or more.  With a passion!

The old barn on the property was revamped into a state of the art brewing and storage facility that produces the best darn coffee you could slip past your tongue. It’s an experience akin to sipping a Grande Champagne cognac and savoring the aroma while doing so.

These two people have put heart and  soul into their endeavors along  with a level of personal integrity, and commitment to perfection, seldom seen these days.

Please don’t take my word for it. Visit the website. Read. Try.

Oh.

My Dark Sin ?

A Black Bear blend of hazelnut creme, cinnamon, and a touch of chocolate.

At home I buy inexpensive ground coffee. I dress it up after brewing with cocoa and sweetener. It seems to induce palatability and I like the mocha flavor; the sweetener cuts the bitterness.

I’ve always been mystified at the amount of money people are willing to spend at Starbucks and other boutique coffee shops. In fairness I must say my expertise as a trend forecaster is less than stellar. I predicted the short lifespan of bottled water and karaoke back in the early 90′s.

I ‘ve been able to cruise through life happily sipping away at my mocha and taking great satisfaction at how much money I was saving. Until recently – that is. Two trouble makers, ( okay, make that coffee afficionados ) have given me grounds to rethink the issue.

One of them is John Cooper at the Apthorp Commons Cafe, a bit of New York chic in the village of Littleton, NH. He’s a former Starbucks manager with a serious passion for coffee and the mechanics of brewing it.

The other culprit is Jim Clark, who, along with wife Annie, owns and operates Black Bear Micro Roastery here in Center Tuftonboro, NH.

It was a pleasant enough afternoon the day my dollar saving equanimity was shattered. I had driven up the hill to introduce myself to the coffee couple and chat about the business of brewing. I wasn’t aware that I was about to be ruined for life; the trap was subtle and cleverly laid. It came in the form of an offer of a cup of coffee whilst we spoke. Nonchalantly Jim set about producing the beverage and I asked for sweetener for it. They had none. Sugar yes, but I’m diabetic. I summoned all the courage I had and calmly said I’d take it black. This was going to be tough but I’d try really hard not to noticeably grimace as I drank it.

Then the moment came. Innocently I brought the mug to my lips. The exquisite aroma should have been a warning. The slight foam on top, another. ( Mine doesn’t do that. ) Had I been thinking I could have stood and left with my ignorance intact. But I was now curious – I sipped.

I’m pretty sure my incredulity showed on my face as an involuntary WOW!! slipped from between my parsimonious lips. NO sweetener and it was wonderful. I rolled it around my mouth like a Napa Valley vintner with a glass of first growth Bordeaux. I swear it was strictly an involuntary action. The entrapment was complete. My bean innocence gone forever.

During the following conversation I learned a lot about coffee. Jim is a man obsessed with the perfection of the dusky brew from purchase to table. No one does justice to the process like Jim and Annie.

I still imbibe in my old coffee standby but it pales in comparison and there are two bags of Black Bear wonder in my freezer that I visit at least three times a week. I’m hooked.

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“I believe that the American coffee industry is doing itself irreparable harm by mass marketing mediocre coffee at a low price. I think that what is happening today in the coffee business is just a foreshadowing of the eventual indifference of the total American public to the world of coffee drinking.” ~ Edward Bransten,1969

“A cup of coffee – real coffee – home-browned, home ground, home made, that comes to you dark as a hazel-eye, but changes to a golden bronze as you temper it with cream that never cheated, but was real cream from its birth, thick, tenderly yellow, perfectly sweet, neither lumpy nor frothing on the Java: such a cup of coffee is a match for twenty blue devils and will exorcise them all.” ~ Henry Ward Beecher
Eyes and Ears