Coffee calling

It was a big weekend for the caffeinated crowd.

First, there was the World Barista Championship, held in Bogotá, Colombia.

It’s not entirely clear to me what the criteria are for determining the top barista—technique, choice of coffee, output? Or exactly what the process is for getting to the competition. But Alejandro Mendez of El Salvador went home with the nifty espresso machine, so, mazel tov, Alejandro.

Meanwhile, back in the US, the Coffee Fest Latte Art Championship was going on in San Diego. You can get more info by listening to the California Report interview & watching the videos that demonstrate some of the results.

Now, I don’t know from the blueberry and tamarind crap they were talking about at the Barista Championship, but I do rather like the latte art. Watching the baristas doing their thing is fascinating, too. Looks like magic to me.

The first time I came across latte art was at the coffee bar in Harrods Food Hall. I used to go there about once every six weeks or so on a Saturday. The coffee bar is elevated over one of the gigantic rooms; you have a view of a lot of humanity buying everything from meat pies to fine chocolates. It’s overpriced, as is everything at Harrods, but actually not bad value when you factor in the people watching and breath-catching elements.

And their lattes come complete with art demonstrated at the San Diego show; I used to get a heart, which always made me smile.

To appreciate latte art, you have to have it in a wide cup, sitting down. Slurping from a paper container on your way to the soccer match just doesn’t cut it.