A word to those that think they are owed something: You are not. You need to earn it.

I am on another airplane heading toward enchanting Los Angeles (I say this with absolute seriousness. Have you been there lately?), thinking about the effort that goes into making something great. Nothing worthwhile ever just floats one’s way. You have to go after it. Everyone I know that has made something of themselves has worked hard at it—from the best baristas in the country and in the world, to the best coffee growers, to the best coffee buyers, to the best chefs at the best restaurants. Sure, some people are more predisposed than others to certain things, but those who possess these natural abilities are even better when they work hard and practice their craft. They are constant students of whatever will make them better. They pay attention and are willing to pay their dues.

Another thing about the great ones: they don’t complain about how hard they have to work at something; they just do it. They are not worried about being overlooked as their actions and not their words will define them. They don’t complain or quibble. They do what it takes.

Here is why—they don’t know any other way to it. The only thing the entitled should prepare themselves for is to be left behind. Choose your path wisely.

I have been at this awhile now, with many gray hairs among those still left to tussle each morning. I see photos of myself these days and ask, “Is that really me?” I look a bit weary as a lot has passed in this last twelve months (and the 42 years before that) and we have certainly gotten to places I never expected or even dreamed of. As much as I ask,” Is that really me?” when I show up for some of the things we do and events we put on, I also sometimes feel as if I am outside of myself. I ask myself “is this my life?” and “when did all of this transpire?” and “how is it possible that we got here?”

Such were my feelings as last week’s event unfolded in Colombia. The Extraordinary Coffee Workshop was utterly remarkable in so many ways. The coffee growers we work alongside of in Bolivia, Peru, Brazil, Colombia, Costa Rica, Nicaragua, El Salvador, Honduras, and Guatemala all flew in to Cali, Colombia to attend the three-day event. (Some of the fine folks from some quality exporters were there, too.) We shuttled between Cali, Popayan and Finca Santuario in the Cauca Valley in Colombia. We spent time discussing a wide range of topics from how quality assurance works at Intelligentsia, to fertilization, to how the producers’ coffees will be marketed and sold, to a very engaged home brewing seminar that everybody seemed to absolutely love (it doesn’t hurt to have the vim and vigor of Sarah Kluth’s presentation style either), as well as a walking tour of the farm that left everyone soaked after a drenching rain. Some of wandered off the path on that tour, got lost and even more soaked, but were then found and redirected by a stoic (but later smiling) soldier from the Colombian army. All of this was marvelous and gratifying, but really only (at best) half of what was great about this event.

Like most everyone who goes off to university or travels extensively around the world will tell you, the most interesting stuff happens not when things are planned but when they just happen. At meals, over drinks or a game of sappo, you could see the growers connecting and sharing excitement and knowledge in a way that I’ve never seen before. We always wondered why producers seem so glad to see us when a farm visit is made. It is because they are seldom, if ever, visited by others in coffee. It is because they are largely isolated, toiling for the most part in obscurity, never really connecting with anyone like them. They finally got to talk shop and work on their “game” with others. They may have started the week out as strangers, but they certainly left as friends looking forward to picking up where they left off next time they see each other. A number of questions were answered. A lot more were asked. With each step forward we learn how much we know and more importantly how much more there is to know.

The void, the gap between where coffee is grown and where it is sold just got a little bit smaller. Next year in El Salvador during harvest with this same group of growers and hopefully a few more, all friends, another tiny piece of the void will disappear.

If you read this on Sunday June 7th, I am somewhere in the air heading toward Cali, Colombia to the 1st Annual Extraordinary Coffee Workshop. The event will be held in both Cali proper and at Finca Santuario in the Cauca Valley. Twenty Direct Trade growers from around the world are joining us for an Intelligentsia hosted four-day event to foster better coffee through workshops, seminars (including home brewing and espresso), farm tours, a cupping competition (with their coffees), and of course through the many conversations that will be had over meals and a few beers. This is the first event of its kind put on by a roaster, and we are very excited about where it might lead. While Finca Santuario is hosting this year’s event, it will move to another country and farm or cooperative each successive year.

In other breaking news, I know I didn’t get it quite right on my last guess on the opening of our new Venice coffeebar. Well, this time I will. We will finally be opening in Venice (at 1331 Abbot Kinney) on Monday June 8th at high noon! Typical hours thereafter will be Sunday – Thursday 6am- 10pm, Friday 6am – 11pm, and Saturday 7am – 11pm. The place is looking beautiful and it really should provide a coffee experience unlike you’ve had before. I hope to see you there.

If there is anything I cannot stand, it is construction. It is so destructive, loud, irritating, dirty and achingly slow. We have experienced the slog of construction at our Venice coffeebar for what seems like a lifetime. Each time we build a store, I swear that toward the end of construction I will never be involved in building another.

As a man I have never experienced childbirth or the physical pain that it causes, but I have often heard that somehow a mother forgets the intense pain of the process and the drudgery of pregnancy shortly after her child is born. Perhaps the same is true in this case. So then, here is to a beautiful, well-adjusted child named Venice. We expect her to arrive just after dawn this Thursday, June 4th.

May her smile be so bright that she makes us forget all our pain.

Find out all the details about Venice and more at intelli.la

“On the brink” is a place I’m not much good at. I cannot stand limbo and would prefer to just get on with things. Most often this has served me well, but occasionally it can get me into trouble.

The opening event for our Venice coffeebar was this past Friday and we are (ahem) on the brink of opening the store. The party overwhelmed all of us as the line to get in stretched to a block long. (I must say I am thrilled that this many people were curious enough to check things out.) In order to open, we need to pass our final inspections and the Department of Water and Power (it is ominous-sounding for good reason) needs to provide the necessary power. Exactly when this will be, no one can quite say. It’s soon, that’s for sure, but not soon enough. The last week or so has been absolutely infuriating for reasons that I will not disclose here. (Please ask me privately. If I have seemed a bit gruff, you now know why.) The crew for Venice looks to be spectacular and they appear ready to go. Check ‘em out at intelli.la.

There are a few other things on the brink. Stay tuned. It may be a bit. I think I can wait.

Our new crop Direct Trade coffees are now no longer on the brink. With El Machete, Panama and La Tortuga, Honduras both released and many more to shortly follow, they are off to an absolutely flying start, landing sooner and fresher than ever. We have begun importing our coffee ourselves and thus far it has gone swimmingly well. Not only are we guaranteeing our growers great prices for great coffees through our pioneering Direct Trade program, but importing and financing our coffee ourselves provides an even greater degree of transparency and logistical control that allows us to land carefully selected Direct Trade coffees months sooner than if we were using outside importers. This work ultimately delivers real seasonality to as reflected in our Intelligentsia In Season program.

What does this mean to you? You will see our new crop Direct Trade coffees landing months sooner than before. Roasters that are still reliant upon importers are in many cases still offering last year’s Centrals.

Intelligentsia Imports is another decisive step in the right direction.

I am sitting under a cloudless sky, filled with stars, somewhere south of Cuba. It smells like the tropics. I can taste the tropics. (Rum anyone?) I can hear the gentle waves of the Caribbean and the whoosh of the palm trees. Earlier today, I dove into the bluest, clearest, warmest ocean I have ever felt or seen (and I’ve seen a lot).

I am on a hard-earned vacation in the Cayman Islands. There are a lot of battles to be fought the remainder of this year, so why not take some time to recharge? After all, it is my first-grade daughter’s Spring Break. Believe me when I say I can use the rest. I am also, as you can imagine, restless. See you in a week. I’ll be rested. Look out.

Mike Phillips, the recently crowned 2009 United States Barista Champion, is the first to show up and the last to leave. His work ethic is admirable. Mike wasn’t supposed to win. He embodies what it is to be an American in the best possible way. He does not feel entitled to anything, nor does he take anything for granted. After full days on the bar at our original location, he spent many hours, often late into the evening, working on his coffee and his program. The installation of the Clover and our changeover to by-the-cup-only brewing at our Broadway location was very hard to execute in a store with 13 1/2 years of history. Mike, along with our Manager Talya Strader, led the charge with such vigor and commitment that it surprised even someone as critical as myself. I also think it may have knocked the stuffing out of even someone as seasoned and tough as Mike. I am convinced that this changeover may have worn Mike down a bit, and as a result, he finished fifth at the Great Lakes Regional. But he never complained about it. It was clear that he was very deflated by the result, but as difficult as it was, my wife Emily put it best–disappointment is something that is part of being a responsible adult. How one deals with disappointment defines one’s character.

We all agreed that competitors had to finish in the top three of a regional in order to receive Intelligentsia’s full support to travel to the United States Barista Championship in Portland. This was a difficult stance to adhere to when Mike finished fifth, but in fairness to all of those who competed, we agreed to stick to it. Mike also agreed it was fair. But then he asked me something that demonstrated what kind of person he really is and what he is committed to. He asked if he could pay his own way to compete at the United States Barista Championship. I thought about it and agreed that it was an entirely reasonable request. And when he won the championship, he was more surprised than anyone, but I wasn’t. Effort and perseverance always wins. Not right away, not today, and not tomorrow, but eventually it always does. This is exactly why coffee needs more people like Mike. I am inspired and honored to work alongside him.

I remember first seeing Mike on a coffee enthusiast website. Later, he took a job in production at Intelligentsia, putting coffee in bags, eventually making his way to a role as a Retail Director of Coffee. He started his career in coffee only three years ago and now he is the United States Champion. Now that is a story. I can’t wait to witness the next chapter.

It’s that time of the year when baristas work on their game and bring their best. I have participated in the Barista Movement on many levels and believe that it is a key piece of the future of Specialty Coffee and necessary to professionalizing the industry.

I’m off to Los Angeles (again) on Friday morning where Intelligentsia will be hosting the Western Regional Barista Competition. (Check out all the details at www.wrbc2009.net.) Since this year’s World Barista Competition is taking place at the Specialty Coffee Association of America’s Conference in Atlanta, it sure would be great if the US champ wins on our home turf. Until then, see you at the Battle of Los Angeles.

My wife Emily‘s birthday was a couple of weeks ago, and we had perhaps one of the best meals of our lives at North Pond Restaurant, located on the North Pond in Lincoln Park. The funny thing is that it was a last minute reservation that landed us there.

The impetus for going to North Pond was that we had made a reservation elsewhere for a nice dinner, but not at a place that would have been acceptable for Scarlet, our almost seven year-old, to join us. This made Scarlet so very sad, so we changed plans and made a 5:30 pm reservation that could include her.

Following an early winter snowstorm, we headed to the restaurant. To get there, you leave your car on the western edge of the park, and, in this case, walk across a path cleared in the snow passing through a tunnel constructed of rock and then on through the park until you arrive at the restaurant’s front door. From there you have a view across the pond, the entire park, and in the distance, the cold twinkling skyline of Chicago. Covered with snow, on a crisp, perfect winter night, it was stunning and poetically memorable.

Once inside, Bruce Sherman (North Pond’s chef, who I have gotten to know over the years through involvement in Chicago’s Green City Market) visited us at our table in the very cozy confines of North Pond’s Arts & Craft style building. I have always liked Bruce as he is very amiable, charmingly cynical and really quite funny. I have experienced his humor in varying degrees, perhaps none greater than an evening spent with him and a few others emptying many bottles of red wine at Delfina in San Francisco after the Slow Food Nation Event.

Scarlet was absolutely amazed that we knew the chef (and quite a bit delighted that we did). Bruce gave us his recommendations and agreed to make something special for Scarlet who was concerned about two things: First she thought that there would be no other kids at this restaurant, which was indeed true, and second that she wouldn’t find anything that she’d like to eat, which of course was completely not the case.

North Pond epitomizes the farm-to-table restaurant, with Bruce knowing the farms and farmers he works with very well. No molecular gastronomy here. Marvelous, carefully selected ingredients thoughtfully seasoned and prepared with great care. I must say, everything was amazing, from appetizers, to entrees, to the wine, to the desert. Scarlet had quail, or a “mini- chicken” as Bruce put it, and perhaps one of the best things any of us has ever tasted: an incredible bacon wrapped potato. Not that bacon and potatoes are hard to find, but these were simply the best bacon and potato ever to meet in one place on one plate. Scarlet loved it and has been talking about how good it was ever since. There were other nice touches including a special birthday menu for Emily and an “almost birthday” menu for Scarlet. Although there were many others eating at the restaurant, it really felt as if dinner was prepared just for us that evening, as I am sure other diners felt as well.

Bruce’s cooking continues to amaze and inspire me. Each time we visit the food gets better, although with each visit it seems like it couldn’t possibly get any better. And Bruce is nothing but humble about it. His desire seems to be continuous improvement.

Not only that, but the service is very much a reflection of him in that it is not grandstanding, condescending, or intimidating. The message is great local food, presented with integrity and generosity of spirit. How nice. No punk rock attitude, just stunning food and kind, elegant hospitality with a desire for continuous improvement. Let me say it again, how nice.

Perhaps all of us that have coffeebars can take a cue from this?

If you have begun to go down this path, it is surely a step in the right direction. If not, it sure seems like a good time to get started.

Keep up the great work, Bruce.

“I love you to the moon and back and back again.” That is what my daughter Scarlet and I would say to each other when we read her the bedtime story “Guess How Much I Love You.”

I am flying back to Chicago after a long coffee trip to Brazil. I am weary, but happy. Each day I was in Brazil I was either cupping on the international jury for the 2008 Cup of Excellence or visiting coffee farms (and cupping) all over the states of Minas Gerias and Sao Paulo. In ten days I visited 12 farms, some more thoroughly than others.

Each day was full of coffee and I got to see many friends from all over the world. I was glad to see them. I met with the growers that provide us some of the best coffees in Brazil and the world. I was so glad to see them too. There were many meals together; lodging of varied quality, and long car rides in crowded quarters. I also had a ride in a helicopter that took three of us over a beautiful coffee growing area, a heavily forested ridge, and then floating, dreamlike into the vast hazed skyline of Sao Paulo. It was so beautiful; I cannot possibly capture it in written word. It goes without saying that I got to know some people better.

Almost every night, on a far from perfect internet connection, I would call Emily and Scarlet on Skype so we could talk and at least get a look at each other. In this way they got a tour of my hotel room or the hotel lobby (very cool in Pocos de Caldas), and I could catch up and see what was new at home. I really missed them. Inevitably Scarlet would say or do something sweet and charming and that would make me miss them even more.

I am glad to be going home. As my plane clips the southern end of the Amazon, I consider myself lucky to not be a victim of what can be the all-consuming allure of coffee, which leads many to more than a little personal wreckage.

So, for the never-ending marvel that continues to be a life in coffee and the friends I have met and made in far flung places, I love you to the moon. For Emily and Scarlet and all of the support you have provided in smooth and turbulent times, I love you to the moon and back and back again… at least.