Nestled comfortably on 8th Avenue beside a tanning salon (the window says it’s a “skin studio,” which sounds kind of gross and awesome) is Eighth and Roast, the coffee company whose name I cannot write correctly on first attempt because “eighth” is a weird word that starts to lose all meaning once you stare at it too long.
The shop is airy and open and so cozy. I am squeezing in time for this coffee project before I head to work and it’s really a shame because all these spaces I’m visiting are so comfortable and inviting, and make me want to sit and sip while gazing out the window and leafing noncommittally through a newspaper. Alas, there aren’t enough hours in the day lately. I’ll work on that. (Note to self: No you won’t.)
I told the baristas I was interested in getting some hand-poured coffee since I’d never had hand-poured before. They told me they had four varieties available, and one of them said he’d been drinking the Cup of Excellence, which was a Brazilian roast. I said YES PLEASE possibly a little too quickly and he set about pouring me a cup. At Eighth and Roast, the baristas have to come out from behind the counter to do the hand pour, as it’s over at a station a few feet from the counter. I sat nearby to wait and tried not to stare at the young man making my coffee too creepily, even though I was curious about the process. I don’t know. I get weird around boys. And girls. And dogs. Is that sad?
Anyway, enjoy this surreptitiously taken photo of a young man making my pour-over Cup of Excellence.
Young men with large pant cuffs making coffee. Is that a theme calendar yet? It should be.
The coffee was delicious. I didn’t put anything in it; just drank it up in all its bright black glory. I say bright because it had a really smooth and mildly fruity finish to it. My coffee vocabulary is a little lacking, I confess. I am not sure when I am tasting a bean’s quality or the effects of a particular roasting style or preparation style. This quest is making me want to get educated about coffee, the way I tried to learn about wine when I started drinking it. (That was back before I decided I was perfectly fine with wine in a box and I wasn’t going to worry too much about its legs or notes or finish because I am too broke to really care about those things in practice, even if the theory is kind of beautiful.)
Also, how classy is their logo? I felt a little like an urban sophisticate running around with that cup in my hands. Which is hard for me to do, really, because I am kind of this tidal wave of clumsy bumpkin most of the time.
Another great local roaster to add to the list. Can’t wait to pick up a bag next time I’m there.
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