As I write this, I am on a quick train ride out of Manhattan. My travel schedule for today and the next eight days will have me in Chicago, New York, Los Angeles, Sonoma County, and San Francisco. It requires many meetings, being “on” frequently, and the inevitably late nights and early mornings. When I leave on a trip like this, my daughter Scarlet, now seven, says “have fun on vacation Daddy.” I chuckle and think these travels will be fun but certainly not a vacation.

It seems that for anything to work in business, life, or coffee, it must be rigorous. This may seem like a resounding theme in my writing, and at the risk of sounding cliché, it does appear that nothing worthwhile comes easy. But, if you are a likeminded person, you realize that this is the deal you made. If you want something to work well, you need to be prepared to work very hard for it. It puzzles me when others expect that it could happen any other way. All I know is there will be many more marathons of effort.

You may ask yourself, is it worth it? I guess you’ll have to wait and see. But, I think I know the answer.

As usual summer in Chicago seems to slip by so quickly that by the time you notice it is here, it is gone. I realize that we only have five weeks left, then school starts up, the seasons proceed, and another year passes. I guess there is something to be said for being immortal. In this life, by the time you begin to figure anything out, you’ve haven’t got much time to do something about it. I hate wasting time, but at the same it’s nice to some down time to think.

Lately I feel as if I have been all over the place as I bounce between Chicago and the coasts (more West than East) in such a way I sometimes forget exactly where it is that I am. With occasional forays outside of the country, I go through this drill in my head:

Uh, where am I?
My own bed? No. Then not home.
Can I drink the water out of the tap? Yes. Then United States.
Smell like thick, sweet air with a bit of ocean salt? No. Then not Los Angeles.
Smell like eucalyptus and moss? Yes. Ah, then Northern California.
Smell of vineyards too? Yes. I am in Sonoma County.

I wonder how this game works inside the mind of Geoff Watts or any other heavily traveling coffee buyer.

On another note, does anybody ever read this stuff? (This doesn’t include you, Mom.)

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 wish I was as fortunate, as fortunate as me.”
-Eddie Vedder

Another 6:00 a.m. flight from Chicago to Los Angeles. Making this flight usually entails waking up around 4:00 a.m. and fumbling quietly in the darkness so as to not wake Emily or Scarlet (who have on occasion described me as “noisy”). I am fairly adept at this drill as I probably take this flight every couple of weeks. It appears that I will be making it much more often for reasons that will become clear in the not-too-distant future. My wardrobe for this adventure is almost always the same: jeans, slip-on Vans (great for making it through security), a t-shirt (short or long sleeve depending on the season) and a jacket (when seasonally appropriate). This, one could argue, is where my luck begins. You will notice I am not putting on a tuxedo (although recent commentary on our removal of the 20 oz. drink from our menus in Chicago labeled me “elitist”, which implies a monocle, top hat and perhaps an FDR-like cigarette holder) or a suit or even the uniform of so-called “relaxed” employers (khakis and a golf shirt… oh my!).

That’s right ladies and gents, the clownish, fighting – middle – age – with – every – breath, incongruously – t-shirt – and – sneakers – wearing – while – reading – the – Times – business – section guy next to you is me. Thank god. I will admit that at some distant point in history, I had hoped to be one of those guys wearing a suit on his way to some important meeting. But thankfully, I flubbed the LSAT and realized that I was not going to be a lawyer (at least not the kind I wanted to be). In hindsight, I am glad it went down that way as I now view lawyers as a necessary evil (my apologies to the lawyers that we currently employ) as they tangle with the insurance folks and the ever-daring bankers (excepting our current banker who I really happen to think is great) for a spot in one of the lower circles of Hell.

After flubbing the test, I had one real job in sales for a large company. I did well but did not enjoy it very much and lasted ten months. After this experience, I launched head-long into entrepreneurialism by starting a bottled iced tea company with a friend (which tanked after four years), worked for a couple of coffee roasters in their retail stores (Peet’s and the now-defunct-in-the-U.S. Spinelli) and then, after coming to my senses, or maybe forgetting about them, I moved from San Francisco to Chicago to launch Intelligentsia with my wife. Much to my amazement and after so many close calls, we are still around and are finally getting things shored up in a way I really hadn’t thought would be possible. Upon leaving California, I felt a little beaten, and I think Em did too, like we had let ourselves down, but we swore that someday we’d be back in some form. With a thriving coffeebar in Silver Lake, a Los Angeles Roasting Works and another coffeebar there on its way, I guess we’re back in the state.

So why “lucky”? Well, it goes like this: I am lucky to still be married to Emily (undoubtedly the most clever and most beautiful woman in the room) after all of the strains we’ve encountered; lucky to have parents (believe it or not their names are Don and Daisy) that never doubted this was possible (even after losing their investment in my first business misadventure); lucky to have Scarlet (my now six-year-old daughter who reminds me that every day should be an adventure attacked with gusto); lucky to have found coffee; lucky to work everyday with some of the smartest (certainly smarter than me), most creative, nicest, hardest working folks you’ll ever meet; lucky to have dodged so many bullets in this business; lucky to have found people that believe in what we do; and lucky to not have to put on a suit to go to go to work every day in some faceless place that gets to make no relevant difference each day. I guess that all-in-all it’s not too bad, 6:00 a.m. flights not withstanding.

On a flight from Chicago to Los Angeles…

Tick, tock. Another Specialty Coffee Association of America (SCAA) show has passed. Like other years, this one was a blur, but a blur off a different kind. The show is always a time to see all those you know from the far-flung places that make up Specialty Coffee. My first SCAA show was in Minneapolis, some 12 years ago. It is odd to go from wide-eyed observer to (perhaps overly) seasoned observer in this span of time. It is refreshing to see the Barista culture and youth (including an always positively restless George Howell, demonstrating that youth is not a reflection of chronological age, but spirit) driving change. I remember being awed by the big names in the industry and wondering how we as a start up would find our way. Lately, it seems we are beginning to.

For the first time I feel like we really executed on what promise we have as a coffee company. There was a knowing, positive fruition of our efforts from the way our coffee and espresso (Black Cat and the Single Origins) tasted at our booth to the way we presented our new Black Cat Project and Intelligentsia In Season initiatives to how we fared at the United States Barista Championship. The only other person that has seen this process from then until now is my trusty compadre Geoff Watts (and my wife Emily who founded the company with me but as of late has moved onto an endeavor much more charming than our business and her name is Scarlet). Clarity of purpose is nice and like any other business owner can tell you, we have made our fair share of mistakes. Some of them twice.

Geoff (Intelligentsia’s Coffee Buyer) and I had some nice talks during the show, which we rarely have given the rigor of his travel schedule outside of the country and my time between the different pieces of what we do in the United States. I happen to like Geoff. In our work together I am confident we have both found times that we have been thrilled to be working together and others when we have been incredibly frustrated with each other. Lately it has been the former. In both of our cases we have been figuring it out as we go along, and I finally think we are getting to the point of being the professionals we had always hoped to be.

I remember our first trip to origin together, and I must say where he has taken things with our work at source is far beyond what I (and I think he) imagined possible. That said, I think we both know we are just getting started.

And to everybody that helped to get us to where we are now, I am deeply grateful. I have watched a lot of you grow up (some quite quickly in the past couple of years) and it has been immensely gratifying watching your efforts shape an industry. It hasn’t been easy. But man, it sure has been fun.

I hope I can stay I can be as invigorated about it as George Howell is now for 20 more years. That could be nice.

In the aftermath of the Intelligentsia Los Angeles holiday party, I looked at some other possibilities for our next Los Angeles coffeebar on what can only be described as a dumbass why-did-I-drink-that-2nd-glass-of-rye- so-I-could-feel-like-I-am-bleeding-out-of-my-eyes-hangover. After a mild debate (which inevitably occurs if you are being shuttled around by our very own James Marcotte, resident foodie and raconteur), we decided to head to Langer’s, the only James Beard award-winning deli in this here great United States of America.

Langer’s is located (and has been for over sixty years) adjacent to MacArthur Park, an area that is now chock-full of fake ID stores; barbershops advertising fades, flattops, and custom scalp art; and streets lined with tough looking cholos and black eye-linered cholas with whom long-term eye contact is not highly recommended if your goal is to make it to your destination unscathed. Following this protocol closely, James and I arrived safely in the confines of Langer’s to be greeted by the warming smells of matzo ball soup, briny pickles, pastrami and corned beef. My grandmas, Gersten (German, out of Berlin) and Zell (Russian, out of Minsk), respectively tried to offer this kind of fare in their kitchens, but it ended up slightly heavy-handed but prepared with love in the first case and dry, salty, and flavorless in the second.

Anyway, back to Langer’s. The décor is trapped somewhere between the 60’s and 70’s and not in any sort of intentional, ironic, hipster diner sort of way; I just don’t think it has been updated since then. That said, it is tidy and well-kempt. A bit about the service: It is always top-notch. Not in a “you need to wear a jacket for dinner” sort of way, but more in a “Mom is happy to see you for lunch, before you were a jerky teenager” kind of way. I guess what I mean is that it is always stunningly accommodating and genuinely friendly, as if the folks working here actually enjoy it. Take a look at the guys working the grill and you notice that even they look like their having a good time. Weird, huh? So how does this manifest itself in the food?

In a word, remarkable. James, feeling a bit queasy from the reverie of the night before and (in his words) “a sandwich I slept on all night”, soothed himself with some matzo ball soup, took a bite of the legendary #19 on the menu (Pastrami with Swiss Cheese, Russian Dressing, and Coleslaw) and seemed to have spontaneously regained his appetite. I, on the other hand, had no trouble polishing off a bowl of matzo ball soup, at least four marvelous pickles and an absolutely mouth-watering turkey Rueben. I have eaten at Langer’s many times and James only twice, but we both agreed that it has been astonishingly good on each visit. At some point in time, the owner must have made a conscious choice to use only the best ingredients, treat the staff well, and build a place that could last. I can’t think of many restaurants that have continuously operated for sixty years and still have the same vigor and love for what they do in their sixtieth year as they did in their first.

After we gained about two pounds each, and after I purchased a t-shirt that said “When in doubt…eat Langer’s HOT pastrami”, we walked back to our car completely full and happy. We agreed that what we had just eaten was perfect in every way (avoiding the obvious artery clogging concerns) and James said cheerfully, “Maybe next time I’ll try something different.”

I responded, “Why would you do that? How could it have been any better?”

“I guess you’re right.”

We drove off into a rare rainy day in Los Angeles.

I’m on a plane headed to Los Angeles for Intelligentsia’s holiday party for our West Coast crew. If anyone sees this in time, you are certainly invited to attend the festivities. We’ll be at the York, a nice pub with a solid beer selection and tasty food in Highland Park (a Los Angeles neighborhood) starting at 8:00 P.M.

In Chicago the temperature may barely break into the double digits today. I know it’s raining in LA, but I think it is still supposed to reach the 60s, so I have no good reason to complain.

After only five months, our coffeebar in Los Angeles is thriving, which helps to reduce some of the sting of the long delays and the expense of the build-out. It looks like our West Coast Roasting Works will be permitted, functional, and all pretty some time in February, various Los Angeles County and City Departments willing. (Readers, please rub your lucky rabbit’s foot and pick a four leaf clover, if nearby.) For those of you that attended our party during SCAA, you saw the precursor to what will be a great training center and cupping lab, although based on the state many of you were in during that party, you may not remember.

The Roasting and Quality Assurance crew is chomping at the bit to finally roast some coffee, and we are eager to give tours to the public and to host our Espresso Enthusiast classes, Barista Training classes, and Meet the Grower visits there. Oh, and of course you must visit our coffee-packing-only room. We HAD to build this room smack dab in the middle of the space, thereby reducing the useable section of the warehouse in about half. We built it, at very little expense (please note more than just a little sarcasm here), because Los Angeles County demanded it before we could receive approval to roast and package coffee. The City of Angles, I mean Angels is notorious for delaying the opening of most any food-related venue be it a roasting facility, coffeebar or restaurant. Ask anyone here who has tried to open one.

Oh, on another note, I look forward to the upcoming Barista competition season. It should be a good one.

I’m going to try to get the posts out more often…time permitting.

A few words of praise for those who do not often get it: those that work behind the scenes, setting the stage for others to be successful, out of the limelight, sometimes from early morning darkness to late night darkness, tirelessly. You see these folks, but they make little noise about anything, they don’t complain, they just do whatever takes to get the job done. Our store opened in the Silver Lake neighborhood of Los Angeles with much fanfare, a great party, marvelous coffee and thus far, strong sales. We couldn’t have done it without you Marcus. Many thanks.