Have you recognized a resurgence of artisanal products? Oh surely, you might opt to buy a few loaves of pumpernickel at Bread Alone versus factory-baked Wonder bread? I admit I evolved from a pimply Neanderthal, drinking vended brownish fluid from a machine into a suave Homo sapiens savoring organic beans grown in rainy forest altitudes and drip perked with a precision Technivorm. Along with the evolution from coffee flavored hot water to artisanal roasts, I appreciated the decreased stomach acidity, and was able to bid adios to Mylanta.
But where or when had such an infatuation with this nectar of the gods begun? This question mandated intense refection, plus a carafe of Blue Sumatran organic with a sprinkle of unrefined sugar. Such intense reflection. Maybe I ought to revisit a vending machine in some IGA supermarket to stimulate my sensory organs, as taste is dependent upon aroma.
No, I logically concluded I ought to recreate coffee history. So into the depths of family artifacts I hunted the Holy Grail of brewer memorabilia – A Revere Ware stamped-steel percolator with bubble glass dome and detachable power cord. Into the perforated basket went several scoops of A&P Eight O'Clock breakfast blend and – for the sake of science – 16 ounces of heavily chlorinated Hudson River tap water.
And there it was – perk, perk, perk. I was ready to experiment with as many ingredients as there are elements in the Periodic Table. A&P blends are known to open even blocked sinus passages, Zyrtec in a styrene cup.
So, I began my search for a blend of state-of-the-art beans. Neither a Starbucks or Dunkin blend nor a Nescafe or Sanka decaffeinated would suffice. No, I exhausted hours quaffing light, medium or dark roasts with purified, spring or tap water. But there was perpetually a lost ingredient. Then, while I sat at the kitchen table with Miles Davis on the Echo, I had an epiphany. With blinding clarity, it was inspired by music. The answer was not in the product but in the process.
After strenuous forays I at last found the roaster where beans met music – Graffeo Coffee Roasting Co. of San Francisco.
Known as “The Original North Beach Coffee,” their roasts are an out-of-body event and transcend reality. The aroma, the taste, the mouthfeel – truly a Darwinian evolution. While the Graffeo Coffee people were listening to "Footsteps" by Miles Davis, I nibbled on a raspberry Rugalach to authenticate that I had reconstituted the origins of coffee adulation, at least mine, and wasn’t just dreaming. I respect that I can acknowledge the precision of those who orchestrated a roast while focused upon music.
No I do not think I will reconstitute the Gevalia Kaffe I brewed in a Mr. Coffee automatic drip-machine. And never again – science aside – brew a glass carafe of mass-produced blends in a Black & Decker undercounter set and forget machine. I have a groove on now – Graffeo brewed on a SimplyGoodCoffee machine. While listening to Miles Davis through a pair of PS Audio Aspens.
Graffeo Coffee was founded in 1935 by Giovanni Graffeo, and the roastery uses a custom-built fluid bed roaster they’ve refined over decades. I spoke with Walter Haas, the co-owner of Graffeo Coffee, to get his thoughts on the enjoyment of coffee and music.
On Craft and Composition
Walter Haas: There is absolutely a rhythm to roasting. First crack is not a bell you hit automatically. It is like holding a note just long enough that everyone feels the release coming. On our custom-made fluid bed roaster, first crack arrives differently depending on the day. Ambient temperature and humidity change it. Our machine looks analog, but it is designed to be extremely responsive to its environment. With its primitive surface and deep sensitivity underneath, it reminds me of an early Moog or a great old synthesizer.
The control panel for Graffeo Coffee's custom roasting machine.
Joe Caplan: What kind of musical genres relate to what you’re doing?
WH: my co-owner Luciano would say jazz. I hear the opening of Sketches of Spain. It blends discipline, tradition, and risk. Like Miles, we are fully in control of our roast.
However, great coffee is closer to classical music than jazz in its final form. The end result must feel inevitable. I have been listening to Mahan Esfahani’s interpretation of Bach’s The Well-Tempered Clavier. It's clean, complex, and perfectly structured. That is what we aim for.
I have to give all the credit to Luciano Repetto, my 81-year-old co-owner. He reinvented the roasting process to create an exceptional coffee, and he’s dedicated his life to perfecting a single dark roast and a single light roast. He’ll never tell you why you’re supposed to enjoy it, but you always will. In fact, when you ask people what they think of Graffeo they usually describe it simply as “smooth,” and “delicious,” but they’d rather get right back to drinking it. Graffeo is a visceral pleasure in a category normally defined by pretension.
Great coffee does have a sound, but that first sip deadens all sound around you, like going outside into fresh fallen snow. You go back into yourself.
Luciano Repetto at Graffeo Coffee's custom roaster.
JC: What about enjoying the café experience?
WH: We do not run a café. We are a roastery only. You come to buy beans, not stick around with a laptop. This lets us control the experience and keep it focused. At Graffeo, you're visiting a working factory. Our music [is] the whir of the roaster. The thrum of production. The physicality of the place. Industrial music, perhaps?
Coffee should sharpen and amplify you, not distract you or tell you how to feel.
JC: Tell us a little about San Francisco and coffee culture.
WH: North Beach is entirely its own idea. Jazz clubs. Beat poetry. And Graffeo is very much part of that heritage. Luciano’s father supplied coffee to the North Beach clubs during the Beat era. Today we are still supporting music. We are the exclusive coffee of Garcia’s Chicago, named for Jerry Garcia, and are the backstage coffee to many major acts that come through here.
On Ritual and Memory
WH: My daily ritual is simple. I make coffee using a metal filter only, [and a] French press or drip machine without paper. Paper steals oils. Oils carry texture and roundness. Coffee should have weight and an enveloping mouthfeel.
Our deep cut: Half and Half. A custom blend of half-light roast and half dark roast. It should not work, but it does. It creates a complexity that is hard to place and deeply satisfying. Michelin-starred kitchens understand this (Lazy Bear [restaurant in San Francisco] uses it for their coffee).
Dedicated to artisanal coffee roasting.
On Community and Connection
WH: Great coffee conversations are exactly like great musical collaborations. Coffee is both the excuse and the accelerant. It gives permission to sit in the first place, and then it gives you the fuel to jam. This is why coffee has always frightened authorities. Why it has been [alternately] banned and embraced in cycles throughout history. European coffee shops bred ideas and revolutions.
If Graffeo could host one musician, living or dead, it would be Miles Davis. Our tagline is “Simply the world’s finest.” As was he.
JC: What is your overall philosophy about coffee?
WH: Great coffee is deeply rich, complex, but also complete and balanced. Like a classical [piece] that moves you but ultimately has a perfect underlying structure. I have been listening to Mahan Esfahani's interpretation of Bach’s The Well-Tempered Clavier, and like it, ours has a structural perfection to it.
JH: Is silence ever better than music in a coffee shop?
WH: Silence is often better than the wrong soundtrack. The same is true of no coffee at all versus bad coffee.
All images courtesy of Ryan Heffernan/Graffeo Coffee.
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