The Roast: Sample Roasting for COTW

Back in March I had the pleasure of assisting Joel with Little City’s latest educational offering - Coffees of the World. Building on the positive response to the inaugural class offered a few months prior at Belo Horizonte’s International Coffee Week, the level 2 class took place at the lab of the Brazil Specialty Coffee association in Varginha, Minas Gerais and was expanded from one day to three. This gave the students, most of whom were coffee professionals and experienced coffee tasters, the chance to dive slightly deeper in to coffee’s diverse origins. Through a series of lectures and lots of cupping we explored the histories, genetics, processing methods, flavor profiles and major regions of the world’s key coffee producing countries.



Flash forward to June. I receive a message from Lyvia, a member of our Brazil team, asking if I could help prep for another COTW class. This would entail sourcing and roasting 30 unique coffees specifically tailored to the origins and regions determined by the course’s curriculum. No problem! I’d done this for the previous two classes and had a strategy down. The catch this time, however, was that the coffees needed to be sourced and roasted and in Atlanta in less than a week as Joel was passing through and would pick them up on his way home to Brazil.



I’ll leave out the details of how we pulled all the coffees together so quickly, but instead say we couldn’t have done it without help from some of the excellent importers that we work with and even some help from competing roasters here in Austin who were generous enough to share a few pounds of green to help us fill the gaps. With 30 unique coffees from 13 different countries on-hand, we were now ready to roast them - all the same way.


One might think that you would want to treat a natural coffee from Yirgacheffe differently than a washed coffee from Huila, and this is generally true when developing a coffee’s roast profile for commercial production. In an academic or quality evaluation setting, however, the goal is a neutral roast that allows the coffee’s true character to reveal itself. We often compare a good sample roast to good soccer referee. They are at their best when they go unnoticed. The following are the Specialty Coffee Association’s recommended protocols for sample roasting:


  • The roast level for cupping shall be measured between 30 minutes and 4 hours after roasting using coffee ground to the SCA Standard Grind for Cupping and be measured on coffee at room temperature. The coffee shall meet the following measurements with a tolerance of ± 1.0 units:

    • Agtron "Gourmet": 63.0

    • Agtron "Commercial": 48.0

    • Colortrack: 62.0

    • Probat Colorette 3b: 96.0

    • Javalytics: same as Agtron measurement using either "Gourmet" or "Commercial" scales

    • Lightells: same as Agtron measurements using "Gourmet" scale

  • The roast should be completed in no less than 8 minutes and no more than 12 minutes. Scorching or tipping should not be apparent.

  • Sample should be immediately air-cooled (no water quenching).

  • When they reach room temperature (app. 75º F or 20º C), completed samples should then be stored in airtight containers or non-permeable bags until cupping to minimize exposure to air and prevent contamination.

  • Samples should be stored in a cool dark place, but not refrigerated or frozen.



Having only small amounts of a few of the coffees and not a lot of time, there wasn’t a whole lot of room for error nor were we able to cup every sample before shipping off to Atlanta. In fact, as I am writing this, the classes have just ended and I’ve not yet received much feedback on the roasts, but having followed both SCA and in-house protocol, I am confident that our roasts were consistent and more importantly, that they went unnoticed.

Bright Lights, Little City: World Cup Slackers

For many Austinites, including myself, soccer exists all year every year. Whether it’s the casual pick-up player at Zilker Park on Sunday mornings, the competitive men’s and women’s leagues, the dedicated club bars around town, or the Lone Star Youth Soccer Club, soccer thrives in our little city. In fact, in 2017, the Precourt Sports Venture announced its desire to move the Columbus Crew to the bustling town of Austin. I can only imagine the sadness a Columbus fan felt, but for Austin it would be a great opportunity for our first professional sports team. For many Austinites, having our own club and stadium would be an absolute dream. The equal/opposite feeling for both Austin and Columbus is much like the feelings of trepidation any American soccer fan has felt for at least the past 28 years: mediocre highs followed by unbearable lows followed by a sense of hope and potential followed by—without fail—a phoenix-like implosion. So to honor the possibility of Austin’s very first professional team and of course the World Cup, I figured some cathartic storytelling is just what the doctor ordered.


It’s not the most popular sport around here, so do not fret if you were not following along with the United States Men’s National team’s qualifying campaign. Our impractical, arrogant ambitions led us to our first failed qualifying campaign in 28 years. Some people blame the coach, some people blame the players, some the domestic soccer league. In all honesty it’s all of them. For some reason the USMNT forgot that nothing is guaranteed and that it wasn’t long ago we were laughably terrible.


As a millennial born in ’89, it was damn near impossible to imagine a World Cup without the United States, because we deserve it, of course. In 1988, the U.S. was awarded the honor of hosting the World Cup in 1994. Our nation's patriotism shone bright, and if we were going to host it, we had to be great, dammit! To the rest of the world’s dismay, in 1990, the U.S. had qualified for its first world cup in 40 years. With a magnificent victory over Trinidad and Tobago! What’s more American than taking on two countries at once? Sadly, the U.S. lost every group stage game in 1990, but the fire was lit and there was no way we could perform that badly at home.  


During the U.S.’s 40 year hiatus from the sport, the rest of the world had become enchanted with the beautiful game. While the U.S. isolated itself during the Cold War, assuming anything European or foreign to be socialist and communist, the rest of the world was focused on kicking a ball around and maybe tying 0-0, the U.S. officially fought three wars (to be fair, we kinda tied those too), invented color TV and the microwave oven, and put a man on the moon. So what if we weren't good at soccer? We had MTV and democracy. In 1994, we had been rejuvenated with our very own American badass’s of non millennial blood lines, equipped with denim jerseys and the occasional mullet.


Marcelo Balboa, ladies and gents. Repping these beauties on home soil, we actually made it out of the group stage only to lose in the round of 16. Can’t remember who won that year; not important either way. The U.S. had solidified itself as a contender and a soccer-playing country.


Full of gusto and vigor, over the next two decades the U.S. established its own league, developmental academies, and infrastructure. One of my favorite parts of the 90’s was the American twist we brought to our own league. Whereas other countries referred to their teams with the names of their host towns, we went full blown bald eagle on it, creating teams like the Kansas City Wizards or the Dallas Burnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn. If these names don’t induce a little internal chuckle, I don’t know what could. Since then we grew up a little and these teams changed their names to Sporting Kansas City and FC Dallas. Professional teams instituted their own developmental academies, and overall the quality of soccer in the United States has gone up. Unfortunately we still value the star power of washed up foreign players like Wayne Rooney or David Beckham over our own youth, thus giving less opportunity for internal growth. They took our jobs, essentially.



In the 2000’s and up until 2016, our finest players actually played in some of the hardest leagues abroad, testing their mettle against the world’s finest on a regular basis. Big surprise, we weren't very good, and our players didn’t make a lot of money compared to the superstars. The MLS changed its tune and started recruiting the big name U.S. players hoping to get butts in seats, taking the second-rate pros to overpaid, over-glorified, soft, tattooed sissies. Yeah I said it, sissies.


After a tough qualifying camplaign, where the USMNT lost to teams from Central and Caribbean countries (whose stars play in our domestic league), the U.S. failed to qualify. Only to be let down with a full-circle failure to qualify for the 2018 world cup in our last game of qualifiers against… two countries: Trinidad and Tobago! (Had we played them individually, I don’t think it would have been a problem.)


Good news, the 2026 World Cup will be hosted by the United States, Mexico, and Canada. That’s right, we qualify no matter what. The brightest up-and-coming stars for the USMNT actually all play in Europe, most of them having moved to developmental academies in their teens. Christian Pulisic, whom I refer to as my baby boy, actually plays for one of the largest, most storied team in Europe, Borussia Dortmund—and get this, he’s really good. Another, Westin Mckinney, starts center midfield for Schalke. Both players and teams are going to be in the Champions League next year, while other players like Josh Sargent show promise to break into first teams at 18 years old. Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if the U.S. wins the 2026 World Cup.


Personally, I am hoping for throwback denim jerseys and mullets to come back around.


The Source: Alcides Carvalho

Coffee is oftentimes referred to as an affordable luxury. I agree. Let’s take a look at the work that has been done in coffee and tip our hats to those that have done so much to provide us all with daily access at very reasonable prices to the elixir we so dearly love. <

In my twenties I underestimated the inertia of things; in my thirties I pushed hard against that inertia in the direction I thought right. Now in my forties, I am still pushing hard. But after having done so much damn pushing, many times in contrary directions, I have developed an interest in peeking behind the curtain of that inertia—why things are the way they are and not the way we think they should be.  We grow up accepting things as they are. We reach an age, mentality, or perhaps hormone level where we rebel against that. As we grow older, one of the joys life can offer is to peel things back and peek into their existence to see how a confluence of events, oftentimes random, and/or a few exceptional individuals created the world in which we live. Maybe most of you knew this from day one, but it took a couple score to sink in for me.

In coffee, a great example of one of these individuals is Alcides Carvalho. Never heard of him? No worries, I hadn't either. But his work has impacted the lives of millions of coffee drinkers, and if you are reading this, I think it is a safe assumption that Alcides has had an impact on yours. Born in 1913, Alcides Carvalho worked as a geneticist at the Instituto Agronomico de Campinas for 59 years, up until his death from cancer in 1993. He developed 65 cultivars of coffee, and, by several estimates, over 90% of all Arabica coffee produced in Brazil came from his work.



When you explore that statistic, the numbers become jaw-dropping. Brazil produces a third of the world’s coffee. According to CONAB—the Brazilian governmental institution that gives us citable numbers—Brazil will produce 44,333,400 bags of Arabica coffee this year.* At 60 kilos, or 132.277 pounds per bag, Brazil produces 5,864,289,152 pounds of coffee a year. If you use the same 32 cups-per-pound yield we used above, that means Brazil “produces” 187,657,252,857 cups of Arabica coffee a year. Given that 90% of the genetics in Brazilian Arabica production came from the work of Alcides Carvalho, that means his work is responsible for 168,891,527,571 cups of coffee a year. One man, 168 billion cups of coffee a year—462 million cups of coffee a day. And that’s just his direct impact on Brazilian coffee. When you consider that these cultivars have made their way across the globe, both directly and as “ingredients” for newer cultivars, those numbers grow considerably larger.  

So the next time you really need a cup—the baby kept you up all night, long day ahead, term paper’s due, one too many the night before, or maybe you just enjoy drinking coffee—take a second to think that there was a Brazilian scientist who spent his life improving coffee quality so that you and millions of others across the globe could share in that source of joy.


*Most coffee references—CONAB, the International Coffee Organization (ICO), etc.—cite numbers in terms of “bags.” So what the hell is a bag of coffee? I remember watching the nightly news and listening to AM radio growing up in Iowa, daily hearing the latest crop prices per bushel, and thinking what the hell is a bushel and why don’t they just give the price in pounds so everybody can understand it?! I still can’t remember what a bushel is. But I guess you get pulled into the jargon and mindset behind it at some point. I have been doing work in SE Asia where they usually refer to coffee quantities in metric tons—totally logical and it should be a hell of a lot easier to absorb. But I need to convert tons to 60 kilo bags to actually make some sort of mental connection. Bushel man I have become, I guess.


The Source: Tha Pye Gone

Boy meets coffee, boy falls in love with coffee, boy travels the world taking sourcing shots, the staging of which has not been seen since MacArthur gallantly refused to roll up his combat trousers.


As the specialty coffee industry has become bigger and the world smaller, this smallness can be seen on my instagram feed with a constant stream of shots of roasters and baristas meeting those who produced their coffee (interspersed, of course, with latte art and well-plated food). I am generally reluctant to present sourcing from a first-person perspective, introducing myself into the narrative. Along with the feeling that I am trying to force people (i.e. you, dear reader) to watch my vacation slides (when you love what you do, it’s all a big vacation), I don’t know how to avoid the tendencies of adulation or patronization.

Adulation in that, caught up in the travel and the emotion, along with the caffeine, there is an obvious tendency to accept as fact everything that we are told, and to aggrandize everything we see. After all, we have made a choice to partner with these growers, love their coffee, and at the end of the day, have the common goal of selling said coffee to you, no less, dear reader.

On the other hand there is a tendency toward patronization, presenting oneself as either a coffee hunter or coffee savior.

The coffee hunter travels the world, going to the most remote and dangerous places to source exotic and rare coffees. (I know, there was a TV show about this and yes, I thought it was awful.) But coffee is the seed of a plant, and its quality neither stems from the remoteness of its location nor the exotic head garb of its cultivators, but rather from choices of genetics, crop management, and care taken in post-harvest. Even when the Indiana Jones narrative is conscientiously minimized, telling the story of how a coffee was produced often means telling a story of poverty. And what one set of eyes sees as telling the seed to cup story, another could easily see as glamorizing poverty to provide consumers a rustic tie to the land or to bygone times, and trying to profit off of a supply chain still largely based on cheap labor from historically oppressed populations.

The coffee savior is one who uses their historic position as “lord of the supply chain” to pay “more than the other guy would pay you.” But the “good” should not be defined by simply mitigating the bad, and Guy Travels the World, Applies Heat to a Seed, and Doesn’t Conscientiously Screw People Over is not really much of a story.

But perhaps I am being self-righteous about not being self-righteous. Please pardon my Midwestern ways. If you are still with me, please enjoy the recounting of my trip to a community that is growing one of my favorite coffees. I tried to put words together to describe the trip, but truth be told, the slide show (or scroll show) probably does it better.

This April I was finally able to visit the Tha Pye Gone community in Myanmar, producers of a coffee we have offered for the past two years. As a little background on the trip, over the past several years I have been blessed with the opportunity to contribute to the nascent Specialty Coffee industry in Myanmar by volunteering as a post-harvest consultant with the Coffee Quality Institute and Winrock International, hosting a port-to-cup tour in the US, and through our purchasing of Myanmar coffee at Little City. This opportunity has not only allowed us to bring some great coffees to Texas, but on a personal level I have made some deep friendships.

For those in the Specialty Coffee industry, it may seem like Myanmar came out of nowhere to becoming a fairly well-known origin. But having peered behind the curtain a (very) wee bit, that instant success is the result of the dedication and competence of many people such as Sai Wan Ming, Su Su Aung, Steve Walls, Nimish Jhaveri, Craig Holt, Min Hlaing, Pheelay, Thu Zaw, April McGil, Anne-Claire Degal, Lisa Conway, Ko Ko Win, Khun Tu Kyi, Andrew Hetzel, Ye Myint, Marcelo Pereira, Melanie Edwards, U Khine, Sara Morrocchi, Mye Mye Aye, Moe Sat, Amy VanNocker, and so many others… and, at the end of the day, President Barack Obama, who twice visited Myanmar and led an initiative for the U.S. to invest in a nascent democracy.

Last month I spent 2two weeks in Myanmar working at two new dry mills, Behind the Leaf and Amayar, to ensure the machines were working properly and the staff running the mills was adequately trained.  While there, I was able to get away for a day to visit Tha Pye Gone, a community Little City has partnered with to exclusively offer their coffees. Tha Pye Gone is inhabited by the Pa-O people, an autonomous ethnic community. The government of Myanmar officially recognizes 135 ethnic groups. Within Shan State, the Pa-O ethnic group is the second largest, behind the Shan people. Please visit here for some background information about the Pa-O people.

This partnership is through Behind the Leaf, a coffee wet mill and dry mill that was started by Melanie Edwards, an American (more specifically a North Carolinian) who has lived in Myanmar for over 15 years, dedicating her life to bettering lives in rural communities. Behind the Leaf is the coffee offshoot of Lilypad, a company that focuses on making water filters, and bricks, and training rural growers on raising rabbits. Behind the Leaf works with several local communities to produce high quality coffees.  

Rather than bore you with a blow-by-blow account of the trip, here is brief summary, followed by a slide (scroll) show.

Tha Pye Gone is about 20 minutes off Highway 43, lying at the end of a dirt road that passes through picturesque fields of rice and garlic as it winds upward. Upon arriving, we went to the house of Zaw Zaw Tun to pick up the latest harvest. Zaw Zaw is the agricultural leader of the community, and is well-versed in coffee and avocados, two of the principal crops of the community. He works with members to ensure they are properly tending to the plants, performing the harvest, and drying the coffee. He insisted that I put on traditional clothes and we sat around the stove and spendt a few hours talking about coffee and the history of the community. Melanie, Jweet, and U Khine distributed water filters to the community, I snapped some photos, we packed up the coffee, and then headed back at sunset. I have also included some photos from a Pa-O festival I attended. So, break out the popcorn, pour yourself a cup of joe or an adult beverage (hey, no judgement here) and enjoy the beauty of Tha Pye Gone, Behind the Leaf, and the Pa-O people. Not always, but sometimes beautiful coffees come from beautiful places… (and if you are reading this, thanks Melanie. You are an example of decency, integrity, and perseverance).


The Dock and Market at Inle Lake



The Road to Tha Pye Gone



Tha Pye Gone Sign



The Main Road of Tha Pye Gone



Zaw Zaw Tun



Zaw Zaw Tun’s Nursery at the Side of His House


Sitting with Zaw Zaw Tun at his house in traditional Tha Pye Gone clothes.



Jweet from Behind the Leaf delivering a water filter.



Taking the Filters Home



Bagging the Coffee to Take Back to Behind the Leaf



Tha Pye Gone Growers



Unedited Interview with Zaw Zaw Tun


Photos from a Pa-O Festival


Bright Lights, Little City: Guerilla Brewing

Little City's Eric Wolf owned and operated Lovejoys, a bar and brewery in downtown Austin from 2006-2012 where he first cut his teeth in the brewing and the craft beer industry.

No one ever said making beer was supposed to be easy, and at Lovejoys, I assure you that it was not.

  Eric Roach and Daron White brewing an early batch on the new system, circa 1997

Eric Roach and Daron White brewing an early batch on the new system, circa 1997

In the mid-90’s, with his newly opened beer and coffee bar already thriving and recent changes to Texas’ brewing laws, Lovejoys founder Chip Tait and some of his Austin Homebrew Supply pals (Eric Roach, Daron White, et al) devised a plan to start brewing their own beer on-site. The franken-brewhouse that they built was unique to say the least - a leaky, square mash tun surely held together by the punk band stickers that covered its exterior, a plastic cold liquor tank that might be cold if the walk-in was working well that day and the brewer remembered to fill it the night before, and an indestructible beast of a custom-welded brew kettle with a clearly hazardous and likely out of code direct-flame burner. The conical fermentation tanks were probably the only pieces of the system intended for use in a brewery though they were oddly sized and crammed into a too-small closet with a cheap window a/c unit providing their only temperature control.


Equipment limitations aside, brew days brought a host of other challenges. Extreme conditions and limited space made the head brewer role at Lovejoys one of the toughest gigs in town. In what was essentially a hallway behind the bar, the space was tight with very little ventilation and poor drainage. It was always hot as hell and the floors were always wet and slippery. If you could avoid slipping and falling on your ass during a brew day then you were likely tripping over the mess of transfer hoses, pumps and extension cords covering every inch of walkable floor. Burns, cuts, shocks, and head bumps were inevitable and anyone who ever brewed a batch at 604 Neches surely has the battle scars to prove it.

Because we were only brewing for our direct customers and because we had neither the intention nor the capacity to distribute beyond our walls (it was illegal for brewpubs to distribute then anyway) we had a ton of freedom to experiment. The taps rotated constantly and we had no style requirements so we weren’t afraid to take chances. If something didn’t turn out as intended we just changed the name. A blonde ale got too warm during fermentation and went a little funky? Call it a sour ale! Miscalculated the amount of hops needed for that one? I guess it’s an IPA now. The brewery’s  limitations necessitated creativity and risk-taking and many of our greatest hits were the result of our misses.

The beer names ranged from clever to vulgar but were mostly bad puns (Dennis Hopper IPA) or named after a brewer’s dog (Samson’s Best, Sparky’s Special Ale among others). Energizer IPA was born when a brewer dropped his flashlight in the kettle during the boil and was resurrected years later when someone forgot to pay the electric bill (hint: it was me) and the power was shut off toward the end of a brew day. We ran every extension cord we had down the alley to plug the pump in on Jackalope’s patio a block down and finished the final transfer in the dark. For the sake of the story, I like to believe that it was the best damn beer we ever made, but I honestly don’t remember. Imagine that...


During the time Lovejoys was open, and primarily still, most brewpubs had a very specific atmosphere - big glass windows with shiny tanks on display under bright lights, long picnic tables, wooden flight boards, pizza and chicken wings, and typically the same 4-5 beer styles. We were nothing like that. We took pride in being the anti-brewpub. In fact we didn’t really think of ourselves as a brewpub at all. We were a bar that also made a little beer in the back room and hoped enough people dug it to justify making more. We showed total disregard for trends and had zero flash. The beer was always cheap and was usually good and we worked our asses off to make it happen. It was guerrilla brewing at its finest.

  Brewer Todd Henry filling a growler of AJ Porter

Brewer Todd Henry filling a growler of AJ Porter

The Roast: Grackle

Everyone deserves a great cup of coffee. Fresh, seasonal, roasted to perfection. But what about your coffee flavor profile? The abstract mumbo jumbo flavor notes on the front of a bag and the nonsensical copy on the back (looking at you John) don't really tell us much about the coffee itself unless we understand the jargon. The number of times I’ve been asked if a coffee is flavored because of the flavor notes could make a grown man cry—and sometimes I do. We do our absolute best to provide a cup for everyone. Every blend fits a profile for any coffee drinker ready to take the training wheels off.

Over the years I’ve had a lot of time face-to-face with customers. As a barista, I really tried to help people discover their favorite drink or coffee. Not too dissimilar from Tom Hanks in the Davinci Code, this involved deciphering what people were trying to describe. “I don’t like acidic coffee,” could mean multiple things. It could be the literal acid quality of a bright washed coffee or perhaps the oils from a dark roast coffee that upsets their stomach. Helping people find their favorite coffee always brought me great joy. 

We knew we wanted to make a new blend and just weren't sure what it should be. So the only way to make a good, logical decision was to stop and take inventory of where we were and why. Like usual, I rejoined the never ending conversation between the Wolf and myself regarding our current blends. If you’ve participated in a tasting or class with me, you will know I refer to flavor profiles in relation to processing method first, then origin. For our blends we also add roast profile. So we started mapping out our blends using the X axis for Processing and Y for Roast.

X Axis

  • Washed Acidic 
    • 10 = Highly Acidic – Microlot quality 86+ (Kenya coffee for example) 
    • 5 = Medium Acidity – Washed Colombian blender
    • 2 = Low Acidity – Washed mild (close to a pulped natural profile)
  • Pulped Natural 
    • 0 = Coffee flavored coffee – Chocolate, caramel, nutty
    • Can fluctuate toward the acidic side or natural side 0–5 points 
  • Natural 
    • 10 = Ethiopia Natural – Bright and fruity
    • 5 = Brazil Natural – Medium fruit, heavy chocolate
    • 0 = Chocolate, caramel, pulped natural profile 

Y Axis

  •  -10 = Under roasted 
  • -5 + Microlot profile 
  • - 3 = Light roast
  • 0 = Medium roast
  • +3 = Medium dark 
  • 5 = Dark 
  • 10 = Charcol 

We have devised a set of blend profiles that allow us to visually plot flavor [or sensory] components and create blends that are truly distinct, resulting in a blend for every palette.


After mapping our current drip coffee blends, it was immediately apparent that we were missing a dark component with a natural fruity attribute. To fill that gap we needed to blend coffees that have the smooth dark chocolate body, floral aromatics and stone fruit flavor. After trying a few variations with our LC base dark and our LC natural blender, we decided on 70% LC base dark and 30% LC natural blender.


We named the resulting blend...




The next step in creating blends is likely the hardest, at least for me. We had to write copy for the bag sticker. But what can you say about a blend named after a dastardly bird that no one really likes? Here are a couple of our attempts.


  1. “The grackle is a black bird whose song crescendos to an irresistible chorus as she flocks with her peers in treetop clouds. Like this coffee, the collective spectacle is a natural delight. The Grackle Blend brings dark chocolate, almond, and blackberry voices to the ensemble, and our roaster's alchemy renders a rara avis indeed: a natural-inflected dark roast coffee that will hold your attention through a second cup and counting. Who cares why the black bird sings when she inspires such things!” - John Outler

    • Nice try, John, but this let the grackle off way too easy. We were looking for something a little (a lot?) more edgy.

  2. “That loud rusty gear and shattered glass cacophony overhead is a flock of grackles that want to darken your horizon and peel the pain off your car. That's why we named our new coffee The Grackle Blend. It's a natural dark roast with almond, blackberry and dark chocolate notes, so of course it will remind you of a terrifying flock of black birds that loom in illogically large numbers so they can gut you when you turn your back. Everyone deserves a great cup of coffee.”  - John Outler

    • OK, maybe this is too edgy? There’s got to be a happy medium.

  3. “The dark full bodied flavor covers the pallet like the black birds at the HEB parking lot. While the smooth chocolate and blackberry finish gleams through the darkness like the violet on the grackles coat. For as many similarities the bird may have with this blend, we are sure this coffee will have you singing a softer tune. “ - Ian Myers

    • Good one, Ian, getting there, but I’m struggling with the image (and flavor) of black birds on my palate. 

  4. The grackle teams, swarms and shreiks; they are like a slow-moving avian train wreck you can't look away from; their attraction is entirely negative, if utterly compelling. They raise more questions, some bordering on existential, than answers... why do they do what they do? why the fucking parking lot, FFS? what did we do to them? and why, in the name of all that is logical, did you name a coffee after them? seriously... Answer. That. Question.” - John Outler

    • OK, John, now you’re just showing your ass. Relax and have a cup of Grackle Blend.



Eventually landing on:


The Grackle—dark chocolate and ripe berries that will give you the confidence to ruffle your feathers, raise your beak, and shriek at the sky. Well, maybe not, but we're confident that one day the Grackles will not be content to scare the hell out of us when we go to the supermarket, so we figure we better start currying some favor.  


Bright Lights, Little City: CHRIS OGLESBY

“Bright Lights, Little City” is a space for our friends, staff and customers to share anecdotes about the city we love. This month, we’re proud to share a piece by Chris Oglesby.

Do you have your own Austin story that is waiting to be told? You can submit it here for a chance to be featured in our next month's Bright Lights, Little City. 

In Which: Billy F. Gibbons Performs at My Book Release Party.

From the first weekend I moved to this little city in summer 1990, I became more aware of a deep arterial connection between Austin and my west Texas hometown Lubbock. I had read an article by Austin journalist Molly Ivins observing how Lubbock is a good place to be from (implying “no longer there”) and why many of Lubbock’s more creative denizens tend to migrate to Austin. I noticed this phenomenon right away firsthand.

Like many peers in the slacker days of early 1990s Austin, my first bed in Austin was a futon couch belonging to fellow Lubbock expatriates, and my first weekend we went down to 6th Street, which was less lively then. I proclaimed, “I wish we’d see someone we know,” and within minutes a good friend from Lubbock passed by like he owned the street. And so it began. Austin is a little city.

The Lubbock Game evolved in Austin among my fellow flatland expatriates, and the Game goes like this: We ask “Do you know where he/she is from?” (RE: musician/actor/artist/etc whom we’re watching or listening to at the moment) And the cognoscente groan emphatically, “Lubbock.” The answer is always Lubbock.

The apparently large percentage of Austin’s influential artists who admit publicly, “When I lived in Lubbock…,” is uncanny. Examples include Flatanders Joe Ely, Butch Hancock & Jimmie Dale Gilmore, Greater Tuna co-creator Jaston Williams, Lost Gonzos Bob Livingston and Gary P. Nunn, The Texana Dames cosmic dance band, A-List producer & pedal-steel player Lloyd Maines, blues legend Angela Strehli, songwriter Kimmie Rhodes, and okay you get the idea, right? Austin is a little city.  

Long story short: this obsession for years living in Austin led to me receiving a contract with University of Texas Press to publish a book from my writings & interviews with many of those Lubbock-area artists who deeply influence Austin culture and beyond. The book is entitled “Fire in the Water, Earth in the Air: Legends of West Texas Music.” The title is based on something Jimmie Gilmore supposedly said to someone else, and I now confess that it’s way too long for a book title; almost no one remembers it or says it right. I later told Terry Allen that I wished I had named the book “Dirt” and he agreed that Dirt is a better name. Anyway…

Back to Austin, September 2006: University of Texas Press publishes my book (ISBN: 978-0-292-71434-2), it receives an appropriate amount of good reviews from critics. I got an award for research. The musicians involved seem to like the book, as do the straight folk back in Lubbock, which is no humble balancing feat.

So this is when Bob Livingston, of legendary Lost Gonzo Band fame (think: “Home with the Armadillo”, Jerry Jeff Walker, Cosmic Cowboy Michael Martin Murphey, Ray Wylie Hubbard’s “Redneck Mother”, etc.), contacts me with his idea, “Chris, if you can find a place with a stage and backline, I bet if you have a book signing party several of us musicians would show up to play.” I reply that I agree it’s a good idea but I don’t want to ask such a favor of the artists. However Gonzo Bob assures me, if I find the right place he’ll corral them and musicians will come. Austin is a little city.



Stubb’s BBQ & Live Music downtown on Red River arguably is one of Austin’s all-time premiere music venues, and do you know where the titular founder C.B. “Stubb” Stubblefield came to Austin from, and where the co-founders of Stubb’s BBQ grew up? Did you guess Lubbock? Good for you. So that is how I’ve known the founders of Stubb’s most my life and felt free to ask; nonetheless, I am immensely grateful when they offer the downstairs stage and bar, along with paid sound-crew, for a Sunday night book-signing party at Stubb’s. Generous indeed. Austin is a little city.

Sunday November 12, 2006. One of those events that is impossible to describe to anyone who was not there but in short it was like a huge all-star family reunion of anyone in Austin with connections to Lubbock, a joyful fellowship of artists who hail from the Hub City. Many artists who had never performed together had the opportunity to do so. Mighty hugs, huge authentic laughs, spontaneous dancing. Gonzo Bob took over as de facto stage manager while I autographed copies of the book provided by UT Press (Full disclosure, my editor at UT Press is Allison Faust, who comes from…did you guess Lubbock?) Impromptu performances by Connie, Traci, and Charlene Hancock of the Texana Dames with patriarch Tom X Hancock; Flatlander Jimmie Dale Gilmore sang with his son Colin Gilmore; Zydeco star Ponty Bone rocked his accordion; songwriter/guitarist David Halley rolled on guitar; Legendary sidemen supported throughout the night: fiddler Richard Bowden, guitarist John X Reed, keyboardist Dee Purkeypile; performance artist and national treasure Jo Carol Pierce, and international award-winning poet Paul Bullock, did their things.

Enter Billy Gibbons and Billy Bob Thornton. Okay, before I forget, Stu Cook drummer for Creedence Clearwater Revival was also hanging around in the crowd this night but never got on stage as far as I know. (I do not make this up; Austin is a little city.) Southern rock veteran Jay Boy Adams is another artist who graces my book with his stories. In the 1970’ & 80’s, the Jay Boy Adams Band toured with and opened for ZZ Top, and Jay doubled as Billy Gibbons’ guitar tech while ZZ Top was onstage. November 2006, Gibbons was in Austin to receive a lifetime achievement award from the Texas Grammy voters with his friend Billy Bob Thornton there to present. So Jay invites them to attend our little book-signing party. Bob Livingston says to me, “Billy Gibbons wants to play.” I say, “Let him.” There happened to be a film crew on site for some unknown serendipitous reason, so if you don’t believe me, here is a link to video:

Afterwards, Jay horse-collars me outside of Stubb’s and says to me endearingly, “What did you think of that, you little fucker?” I said “Well, there’s when I got married and now that is the second greatest thing that ever happened to me.” Thank God, Austin is a little city.


Artist Christopher J. Oglesby creates paintings in Austin Texas; please visit his website

Oglesby also created dedicated to West Texas music & culture; authored a book about creativity & numerous magazine articles about life in Texas; and he has produced more than 100 successful music events in Austin and beyond.

The Roast: The Art of Skim


At Little City we cup a lot of coffees. Cupping is the step-by-step process used for evaluating a coffee’s individual attributes to assess its overall quality. Its steps are numerous and steeped in guidelines and protocols. A cupper at source in Ethiopia or Indonesia should theoretically follow the same procedures as a potential buyer in Austin. It is an international language that connects the industry and aims to keep all points of the supply chain on the same page when discussing a particular coffee’s quality and value.

Read more about cupping protocols here!


One step in the cupping process that is rarely discussed in terms of protocol is the skim. After the coffee has been brewed (8.5g of coffee per 150mL of water at 200-205 deg F for 4 minutes) and the crust of grounds formed on top has been broken (with the bottom side of a spoon in 3 swift motions), the foam that remains on the surface of the cup must be removed. This step is strictly functional, ensuring that the cuppers get a clean spoonful of liquor - the term used for the brewed coffee that will be slurped by spoon during evaluation. Aside from washing dishes, skimming is likely the most monotonous and time consuming step of the entire cupping process.

In our years of daily cupping and travel we have skimmed a lot of cups and have seen a lot of cups skimmed. Below are some videos of the various methods we’ve encountered:

The two-spoon method

The most common skim. Two spoons are placed together and slowly fanned out around the inside edge of the cup to collect the foam from the top. Here Randy makes it look easy though it will take some practice for new cuppers to be able to remove all of the foam in one motion.

The one-spoon method

This method was captured at a Coffees of the World class given by Joel and Eric in Varginha, Brazil and was the catalyst for this extremely specific and geeky blog post. Here Jorge Assis of Monte Alegre uses a one-handed scoop to corral the foam and then a swirling motion on the surface of the cup to coax it in to the spoon. One may argue that this amount of motion could cause excessive agitation and potentially over-extract the sample, but who are we to argue with a guy who has been cupping longer than half of our company has been alive? Plus it looks super cool and leaves a perfectly clean cup!

The Blow Method

Finally a look at the rarest of the skim methods we’ve witnessed - the blow technique. In this video Joel took at a local coffee competition in the state of Parana years ago, a contestant floats all of the foam to one side of the cup with a gust of breath before gently scooping it out with his spoon. This technique is rarely seen in Specialty Coffee and is more commonly seen with old-school cuppers who use the Brazilian COB (Classificação Oficial Brasileiro) system, where the roast is lighter and the grind coarser, thus facilitating the blow, if you will. We’re not sure if it is critical to the technique, but the Sam Elliot stache definitely doesn’t hurt.

There you have it - three videos that prove the skim worthy of our attention and appreciation. We encourage our fellow cuppers to practice these techniques and turn us on to your own special skim methods. Be sure to tag us in your videos and use the hashtag #artoftheskim.

The Source: Single Origin Diversity - Café De Costa Rica

As we’re making final selections on Costa Rican coffees and waiting for the shipments to arrive, Ian recaps his sourcing trip to Costa Rica and the takeaways from the different farms and regions in this month's edition of "The Source."

While I would love nothing more than for my list on a trip to Costa Rica to include nothing but various tropical fruits I will add to my guaro from atop my beachside perch, while wearing the Little City hat on sourcing trips (literally, actually, check out the photos. I love that hat) I got food poisoning the moment I got to the beach. So instead of rehashing my romantic relationship with the toilet at my Airbnb, I’m sharing a little more about the coffee sourcing part of the trip to Costa Rica and various coffee producing regions I visited in January.

The first context of Single Origin coffee for me was Juan Valdez himself. For any of you who don’t remember the legend of the man, check this out. While Juan is obviously the national coffee hero of Colombia, I was informed that he drinks Costa Rican coffee. Some Costa Ricans actually had a bumper sticker created, resulting in a lawsuit between Colombian and Costa Rican coffee. The lawsuit was settled after finding a Costa Rican named Juan Valdez, who did in fact drink Costa Rican coffee.

Broad generalizations of coffee from one country to another are just as silly as that bumper sticker. Coffee quality varies drastically from origin to origin and region to region. We visited farms from the West Valley, Central Valley, and the Tarrazu Region, each with its own historic, socioeconomic, cultural, landscape, and flavor profile differences.

All in all, Costa Rica has eight main growing regions:

  • The Central Valley
  • Tres Rios
  • West Valley
  • Turrialba
  • Orosi
  • Tarrazu
  • Guanacaste
  • Brunca

In all honesty, I haven't been to all of them. Though I have been to three of the better known areas. During my last trip in January, I visited and cupped coffees from the Central Valley, West Valley, and Tarrazu regions. By the end of it, flavor attributes from each region started to present themselves in the cup. But that’s not the point… we were on a mission.  (I tend to get side tracked, so bear with me.)

Without spending too much time droning on about the specific criteria we use when sourcing (if you’re interested, take a look at our sourcing outline), this particular trip was intended to identify a coffee profile that can replace our current Peruvian blend component. A washed coffee with mellow acidity, full body, and notes of milk chocolate. It’s a relatively easy profile to identify, in all honesty; the hard part is the quality threshold. Let’s say you want a nice lager beer. If the criterion is just lager, a Lone Star tall boy works just fine, but if you want exceptional quality, nothing comes close to the St. Augesteiner Helles Lager (IMO). Trouble is, that damn St. Augustiner can’t be found anywhere outside of Bavaria. Our blend components are no different (they actually stand up quite well on their own as a single origin). To get the quality we are looking for, going to source is the only way.

In addition to the blend profile, we want some coffee to nerd out on. Last year we featured coffees from El Cedral farm in Dota Tarrazu, Costa Rica. Personally, this was one of my favorite coffees of all time. A well rounded, natural processed, Yellow and Red Catuai, full bodied, strong notes of stone fruit, milk chocolate and an after taste that doesn’t disappoint. Naturally (Pun intended), I had to visit to see what made El cedral so exceptional last year.

Sitting at 1,900–2,000 masl, it was one of the highest farms in the Dota, Tarrazu region. Generally speaking, the higher the altitude, the longer the maturation period (due to a milder climate). From my experience this increases the chances of an amazing cup of coffee. While most of the coffees in this valley had been harvested already or were in the middle of picking, El Cedral was just beginning to reach full maturity. This coffee wouldn’t be picked until a few weeks after I left, so unfortunately we have not yet tasted it. (Samples will be arriving in Austin in the next few weeks).


From the picture above you can see the small town of Dota; located at the center is Coopodota, a cooperative processing mill that all the growers in this region are a part of. While the smallholder growers may not have the resources independently, as a group they are capable of some pretty incredible things. The mill was one of the most sustainable and organized mills I’ve seen. Sustainably speaking, all of the coffee pulp is composted and used to fertilize the crops. The water from the mill is either sprayed into grazing fields or star grass for purification. Most of the electricity is generated from the nearby river and the dryers are heated using only coffee parchment.


Overall, the co-op administration has most of the control to decide which lots get picked on which days and to determine how they will be processed. The two receiving stations are the larger more industrious station and then the microlot receiving station.

Stopping by one co-op to find the perfect coffees for our blends isn’t enough, though. Another great example with its own nuances would be La Candelaria. We would be meeting Coricafes Green Coffee Manager, Stefan Wille, at the farm. Stefan had actually been to Little City’s roasting facility to visit months beforehand.

  Stefan Wille (left), Ian Myers (middle), Fernando Cabada (right)

Stefan Wille (left), Ian Myers (middle), Fernando Cabada (right)

After the 1.5-hour car ride to the West Valley, just northwest of San Jose, we arrived at the Candalaria Estate, Stefan waiting patiently at the gate. Funny enough, Stefan did not realize it was the coffee roaster he had visited in Austin, TX coming to visit until he saw my face. The coffee industry has had of way of making the world feel like a small place. The potential to run into someone you met in a completely different country is very real.

Candelaria Estate was founded in 1965 by Otto Kloeti. Otto, Uwe Thormaehlen, and Klaus Ronning founded Coricafe, the independent coffee exporter, the same year. Candalaria was purchased from producers in the province of Alajela, 40 km northwest of San Jose. Like most coffee growing regions in Costa Rica, the road to Candelaria was winding, steep, and only sometimes paved. Once inside the farm you immediately see the recently harvest coffee shrubs from the lower altitude lots of the farm. At the time, Candelaria was in full swing of harvest, though at 10 a.m., most the action is still happening in the fields. Stefan showed us the newly updated washing station and also showed off some of the old ox-powered equipment.

After touring the washing station and mill, we moved on to the highest lot on the property. The views were fantastic, though most of the coffee at even its highest lot had been picked already. It’s great for tasting but not so great for photos. Hence the non-coffee-oriented landscape photo.  


One of the fascinating things I learned while at Candelaria was how they processed the waste water from the washing station. Otto Kloeti took steps toward sustainable clean water years ago at the washing station. Otto hypothesized that by sprinkling the waste water over star grass, it would filter the water enough to rejoin the rivers. After testing, his hypothesis was proven true, and it is now used by many other farmers in the region.


The Source: Sourcing Seasonality

In this entry, Little City GM Ian Myers provides an introduction to our new section called "The Source," and explains some of the basics of sourcing seasonal coffee.


Hopefully you have experienced the enhanced flavor of coffee that is freshly roasted, ground, and brewed. It’s life-changing, or at least it was for me. But what about freshness in terms of seasonal coffee? And I am not talking about Pumpkin Spice or White Christmas seasonal, but rather “fresh crop coffee” that was freshly harvested.

What does “seasonal” coffee even mean? The coffee shrub, like many other trees, has harvest periods throughout the year, when its fruits are ripe for the picking. Depending on rainfall and weather patterns, the coffee plant can have one or several harvests throughout the year. Those harvest times vary by country, and even by the specific region within a country.  As Joel talks about in The Roast [LINK], the coffee bean is actually a seed, and the minute that coffee seed is harvested, it is removed from its protecting mother plant and subject to degradation. In other words, the clock is ticking. What happens as the bean ages? The first sign that a coffee bean is past its prime is that the flavor attributes fade—the coffee loses its brightness, sharpness, and intensity. After that stage, the coffee starts to taste “past crop,” gaining papery, woody, flavors and even astringency.

As the General Manager of Little City, I wear many hats. But, along with head roaster Eric Wolf and all of our team, one of the ones I am most proud of is how we keep our blends fresh by constantly sourcing fresh crop seasonal coffees. Along with our seasonal microlots, we are always planning ahead for coffees that will go into Congress Ave, Republic, Grackle, Messenger, Violet Crown and other blends. Our blends are crafted in the sense that they are not the same coffees year round, nor are they “where microlots go to die.” (A common industry practice is to use blends as a place to get rid of older coffees that might have once been good, but have since faded and now taste faded or woody.) We are constantly planning our blends and changing out the components with fresh crop so they don’t fade, or, worse yet, develop those “past crop” woody flavors.

  The Little City team cupping Costa Rica samples from Ian’s sourcing trip, to determine which freshly harvested (seasonal) coffee will replace the Peruvian coffee in some of our blends.

The Little City team cupping Costa Rica samples from Ian’s sourcing trip, to determine which freshly harvested (seasonal) coffee will replace the Peruvian coffee in some of our blends.

You may have seen calendars showing the harvest, ship, and arrival periods from each country. God, I wish it were that easy. The only way to understand the ever-changing harvest seasons and ensure freshness is through relationships with producers and exporters, and visiting them as often as possible to have an ear to the ground about the intricacies of each harvest.


Counter clockwise: Ian cupping coffee in Costa Rica, Eric in the fields of the Huila Department in Colombia, and Joel enjoying a non-coffee beverage in Myanmar.


Of course, even “perfect” planning doesn’t ensure flawless execution. For example, we’ve sometimes struggled getting coffees into the U.S. from countries like Myanmar, or even neighboring Mexico. The steps between harvest, processing, sampling, contracting, milling, bagging, exporting, and importing take real time and attention. Best case is three months after harvest, and we’ve found that working with exceptional producers and carefully vetting supply chains help to hit that target. I traveled to Costa Rica last month and last week our team made a decision about the new Costa Rica blend component. You can follow those coffees at #lccostarica.

But I am so proud of our results. It’s time consuming and expensive to constantly be sourcing new coffees for the blends, not to mention the time spent working on the roast curves to ensure they don’t alter the blend profile. But it’s worth it. I am very proud of the work we do and the quality of our blends. They are not afterthoughts. Our motto is Everyone Deserves a Great Cup of Coffee. And with all of our blends, that rings true year round.