Keurig’s new line of coffee machines will feature a technological restriction on what coffee you can use in it. If your coffee of choice hasn’t paid a licensing fee to Keurig Green Mountain (the company’s new name; I’m going to keep calling it “Keurig” because the new name is dumb), you’re out of luck. According to an article at Quartz.com:

…Keurig is planning to fight back with its Keurig 2.0 machines, which will have technology that makes it incompatible with unlicensed pods. The company claims that the move is about making a better or more consistent cup of coffee, but its competitors seem to think otherwise.Treehouse Foods, the biggest manufacturer of private-label K-cups, issuing Keurig, arguing that the new machines are anti-competitive.

We have a Keurig in my office. It was a stupid purchase, and I regret it. I only use it when someone wants a cup of coffee and I don’t feel like waiting for the kettle to boil for the French press. My frustration with the machine is that the coffee is pre-ground. But I know it is popular. I just didn’t realize how popular the third-party, unlicensed coffee pods (“K-Cups,” in Keurig’s corporate parlance) are.

How useless is a coffee pot if you can’t use your own coffee? This isn’t about quality, it is about control. I hope the new line of machines fail spectacularly. They are due to be released this fall, so we shall see.

To my mind, this is the second coming of Lexmark v. Static Control Components, a long-running dispute over the authentication system in Lexmark’s toner cartridges designed to keep other manufacturers from selling compatible replacements. It was a mess when I was in law school, and it apparently still is. Hopefully, these new pods will be reverse-engineered in no time. Unfortunately for Keurig, one of the third-party manufacturers, Treehouse Foods, has already filed suit. Time will tell if Keurig will counter-sue.

I cannot tell you how many times i’ve rewritten this article. I’ve been here a handful of times over the past few months and every time I walk in, I learn something new that I must go back and edit in this essay. I talk to the owner, try a new dessert, or explore something on the wall i was blind to the first time around. But wIthout fail, the first thought that comes to my mind when I walk through that door and into The Baker’s Jar is ‘civilization’.

For those who bake (or cook), you’ll understand where I’m coming from. J is an avid cook himself. But baking, in all of it’s grander, conjures many feelings of warmth and love. Sweetness. Perhaps even the savory. Baking is an art, the art of form and decoration. We happily decorate cakes, cookies, pies, and bread. We add color and texture to make it pleasing to the eye. It is, let us say, a practice in science. The science of measuring and precision. Understanding why and what makes certain ingredients rise and fall. How humidity, moisture, and temperature can make or break a cake. Why some ingredients are better than others for certain recipes. How whipping cream too much turns into butter (I once learned this the hard way. I over whipped my home made whipping cream. My good friend, an avid baker himself, explained to me this is the process to which we make butter.)

This is why I say the Baker’s Jar reminds me of the term civilization. This is where art and science come together in harmony. Perhaps one of the good points about us being so terribly human is that good stuff can come from it. This is the science and art of baking, of civilization, in a jar.

Walking into the Baker’s Jar is also a reminder of better time and better things. Of a home that is very far away for some of us. The well lit shop and pastel yellow paint certainly brings about moments of brightness and clarity. One will find a huge dark shelf of nicely organized jar with sweet goodies waiting to be discovered with each bite. Caramels and cakes. Chocolates and sprinkles and icing. There’s even a birthday cake in a jar. Vanilla birthday cake. White icing. Sprinkles. Not your birthday? Not mine, either. Eat it anyway. Certainly just the cake alone is worth a celebration of sorts.

The place is even in an old row house, making it more like home. It almost waits to offer us warmth. I dare say tenderness. The feelings we all seem to forget about, or shove to the side because society tells us to. We must be strong! Strong like bull! We must work until our hands fall off and we die in the saddle! Things to do! Bills to pay! Paperwork! More paperwork! Stress! We must diet and exercise!

In this over political, horribly judgmental world, is this really civilization? Is this really how to live?

I write this because I discover this place time and again when I am at my most tired (I walk dogs). I discover this place when I am most busy (Thursday is my wall) and have logged in more walking time than that of the PPA (not really. They walk a lot and don’t have the benefit of fur therapy). It brings be back to the notion of striving to live, and stay, in a civilized world.

Yellow colors the walls, flowers in jars, and Billie Holliday songs coming from the speakers Yet, let’s focus on what this place really has to offer. That is baked goods in mason jars.
For those who have not yet had the luxury to discover this gem, I suggest one day you take a few moments and pay it a visit, because there are baked goods in mason jars waiting for you to consume.

By the way, I highly recommend the Lemon Pie. I can’t think about it without drooling.

How civilized of me.

What: The Baker’s Jar
Where: 16th and Bainbridge, Philadelphia PA USA
Coffee: La Colombe
Internet: http://bakersjarphilly.com/

Preston Wilson wants us to listen to our coffee beans to get the perfect roast.

Acoustic researcher Preston Wilson normally spends his time studying underwater sounds. But, like many of us, Wilson often relies on coffee to keep him energized. He’s enough of a coffee connoisseur, too, that he roasts his own beans. And he noticed that the sounds those beans make while roasting give away where they are in the cooking process. These clues, he thinks, could be harnessed to perfectly time a light, medium or dark roast’s preparation.

One of my five-year goals is to live in a place where I can safely roast my own coffee beans. I’ll have to keep this suggestion in mind when the time comes to try it.

As we talked about last week, Coffee Rust continues to ravage the Central American coffee crop.

To make matters worse, Brazil is experiencing an ongoing drought. Combined, they are exacerbating the coffee market. As a result, as Joseph Stromberg reports, we will all be paying a lot more for our coffee very soon.

It’s taken a while for this to be reflected in the retail price of coffee, because roasters generally have a few months’ stock of beans on hand. But we’re finally beginning to see slight increases in retail prices of coffee too.

Those two crises are bad enough, but what can we expect in the future? [Read more…]

Portland parrot “Kyara” loves her coffee:

A fungus is ravaging the coffee crop in Central America. Coffee Rust is especially deadly to Coffea Arabica, the plant that produces Arabica beans used in most high-end coffee.

Washington estimates that production could be down anywhere from 15 percent to 40 percent in coming years, and that those losses could mean as many as 500,000 people could lose their jobs. Though some countries have brought the fungus under control, many of the poorer coffee-producing countries in Latin America don’t see the rust problem getting better anytime soon.

Guatemala, El Salvador, Honduras, Panama and Costa Rica have all been hard hit.

What’s this mean for us, the discerning coffee consumer? Higher prices at the pump, er, coffee shop, most likely.

For a little over a year, I’ve been running my own business. It is a solo operation. I do everything from interviewing new clients to running the mail to the post office.

I’m also in charge of the coffee.

H. has convinced me that life is too short to drink bad coffee. Unfortunately, I don’t live in a fresh-brew Mecca like she does. Instead, I have my choice of two coffee shops in town. One is more of a breakfast and lunch café, but they serve their own custom roast. Both are several blocks from my office. I’ll review them both in time.

What is a small business in the hinterlands that are Central Pennsylvania supposed to do?

Order fresh-roasted coffee from California, of course! Enter Tonx.

On the internet, everywhere is local

Tonx is a high-quality coffee sourcing and roasting operation. Their products are available exclusively online. The selection changes every two weeks, at which time a new coffee is released and shipped to subscribers. The beans are shipped whole in special resealable plastic pouches with one-way vents to prevent oxidization. They’ll ship you as little as a six-ounce half-sack ($12), but the standard size is 12oz ($19), with monthly billing for two shipments at a time. If you have a lot of hungry mouths to feed, they scale up, too. Currently they list a 15lbs package for businesses ($259). But really, that’s a lot of coffee.

I’ve enjoyed nearly every one of their coffees. I find I particularly like the ones sourced from Ethiopia. Each coffee has a unique flavor and character. Tonx even includes an information card about each coffee, with details about where it was grown, some facts about the farmers who grew it, and tasting notes to give you some idea of what you can expect in your cup.

All good things…

Last month, Tonx announced that they are being acquired by Oakland- and Brooklyn-based Blue Bottle Coffee, an upscale specialty roaster and retailer. So far there have been no changes in Tonx’s mail-order business, but in the coming months Tonx expects to be completely subsumed by Blue Bottle’s operation. It remains to be seen if the quality continues to be top-notch after the merger.

Tonx is an Internet-based coffee subscription service. Visit them online at www.tonx.org.

With so many coffee shops to start with, and would probably be a better place to start, I begin my writing here, at the Last Drop.

I currently reside in Philadelphia. The home of Brotherly Love (the love is optional these days), Liberty Bell (which you can’t touch anymore), Hoagies (grinders, subs, depending on your part of the country), Pat’s, Geno’s (avoid both. For my money, you want Jim’s on South), and a seemingly exploding coffee scene (true).

And while it might be best for me to start at a place such a La Colombe, a joint where the kids are seen and want to be seen, I am choosing to start with The Last Drop. I’m a sucker, what can I say?

For starters, there will be no Starbucks reviews here. I would suggest using Yelp for those searches. If you’re up for something a little better, you’ve come to the right place. Burnt coffee? No. Tasty coffee? Yes. And for the record, i have lots of places in mind. Over the years, many of them have come to mean something personal to me, in my journey through a city that can be difficult to navigate. I want to invest in that personal touch. I’ve probably lived here long enough to have a few things to say, but I am no expert. Just a girl, taking the city by storm, one cafe at a time.

Not to worry. I will get to La Colombe and all it’s goodness. I’ll also discuss about the little cafes that are perhaps less obvious. To talk about the little guys and give them some money. Keep the poverty levels down, right? We can all help each other.

I first went to the Last Drop when I moved to Philadelphia about five years ago. I was in need of a late night coffee and a quiet place to work. Much to my dismay, i was still underemployed, still working on photos to kill some time and try to become a fashion photographer (more on that later). But mostly, I was bored. So I went to the Last Drop.

My first time was not impressive. The barista was rude. The coffee was weak. The place was weird. The music, awful.

I didn’t go back for a while. A long while.

Truth be told, I didn’t start going back again until I moved away from Center City. One day I just biked by and found myself there. Just like that, i was back. And just like that, I found myself there again and again.

I think it’s the atmosphere that captures my attention. Think cafe meets old historic house meets garage band. Basically, it’s really cool, if you’re into that sort of thing. Underground might be a nice word to use. There are always adverts for local bands playing at the MilkBoy or The Boot and Saddle on Broad.

I can think of many people who actually wouldn’t like this place. This isn’t a scene. Not a place to be noticed. This is nice neighborhood cafe. Perhaps that’s why I started going again. I want to be alone to be left alone. To think. To ponder.

Here I got into reading ‘The Flowers of Evil’ (Baudelaire), ‘The Last of the Mohicans’  (Cooper), and ‘Arrowsmith’ (Lewis). I downloaded some Hitchens on my Nook as well.

It’s a nice place to get serious, without actually getting too serious. There are some comfort levels which make it quaint. Always a pleasant breeze coming through the door (during the warmer months) and it’s cozy during the cooler months.

As for that first night, it’s a memory. Perhaps the barista was having a bad day. Maybe they were in a permentantly bad mood. Who knows? It doesn’t matter anymore.

The Last Drop Cafe is located on 13th and Pine in Center City. http://www.thelastdropcoffeehouse.com/

I’m not a big fan of mainstream Mysteries, but I do like detective fiction. I just need my detective stories to have an odd quirk and to be more than another procedural thriller. Tartan Noir. Appalachian or Country Noir. Hardboiled. These are a few of the subgenres that grab my attention.

I grew up reading science fiction. As a child, I discovered the classics at the local library, and I read several things I was definitely too young to be reading. I devoured everything by Ben Bova I could get my hands on – somehow I didn’t turn into a raving libertarian – and I credit his realistic space novels for my continued fascination with and zealousness in support of space exploration. I still read a lot of science fiction. I don’t read as many short stories and magazines as I used to, but I read several novels each year.

I didn’t read a fantasy novel until middle school, when I bought – on a lark – a three-pack of Terry Brooks’ Shannara series at a discount bookstore while on vacation in Ocean City, Maryland. Somehow my will to read fantasy survived reading those three novels. (They weren’t that bad for what they were; the real bad stuff came later in the series.)

About a week ago, my wife suggested I read Seanan McGuire‘s Rosemary and Rue, the first novel in her October Daye series. She pointed out that McGuire’s sense of humor is a close match to my own. I was hesitant at first, but she spent the next day scouring the house for the entire series (seven books so far). She couldn’t find Rosemary and Rue itself, but she found all the rest and the bookshelves are now much neater. So I downloaded the Kindle edition.

I’m a third of the way into it and I love it. Gritty setting? Check. Likable protagonist? Check. But not too likable, and not entirely sure of herself. She isn’t preternaturally competent; she screws up, and her screw-ups have consequences. Supporting characters who aren’t just NPCs but have their own needs and motivations? Check. A plot that is about more than collecting Tokens and beating the Big Boss? So far, so good.

And fae. A healthy dose of fae – real fae, inasmuch as there is a “real” fae – that follows the lore and traditions. That’s what hooked me. McGuire obviously understands her source material, and has brought the old stories back to life in a modern setting, all without losing the timeless and confusing nature of the creatures of faery.

What’s not to like? I’m looking forward to reading the rest of this book, and all the rest in the series.