Crawfish in the Roaster

2/26 Logs and Figures

Coffee/espresso drinks: 90
Bathroom stops: 79
4:30 pm: 2000 miles

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2/28 New Orleans Roasters

In a city that is a major port for coffee importing, there was a fairly small amount of independent coffee roasters pre-Katrina. Post Katrina there are even fewer. Bob Arceneaux and the Coffee Roasters of New Orleans was the first roasting facility to re-open post-storm. Knowing that a storm was approaching Bob and other employees has lined the entrances to the building and the parameters of the coffee roasters with sand bags. In the end the sandbags mostly served to keep the water in after the storm. Their first day back in the building was spent scooping mud and crawfish out of their machines.

Coffee Roasters of New Orleans quickly sent their bright yellow roaster off to the US Roaster Exchange to be refurbished. They borrowed a roaster, rented some space at higher elevation and got right back to work.

Here are their beautiful borrowed San Franciscans!

 

Bob gave us a tour of the facilities and even let us have a rare glance at the only items that remain from the old location:

We spent the last hour of our time with them cupping two different Sumatran coffees. Roasters cup for a number of reasons, in this case we were cupping to decide which bean they liked better, in order to start carrying and selling that selection. Each coffee was roasted medium and dark. As coffee is roasted the flavors change and develop. In order to give each coffee a “fair chance” its roasted both ways, some coffees will taste better as a medium and some as a dark roast.

The glamorous side of cupping:

 

We could not leave New Orleans with out at least seeing the French Quarter. Strolling the old city streets in the mid-day sunshine was a perfect pleasure. We sampled some of Café Du Monde’s chicory au lait and beignets, watched adorable street performers, and saw a door Sara’s mom would adore. While we ate Po’boys at Brangelina’s favorite dive, Denali had some fun of his own.

Driving through Louisiana, a little red sign stating “Coffee House” drew us a little further off the highway then we normally would go. We found a collection of old houses selling coffee and pottery, and offering a sense of nostalgia. Denali bonded with the chef and we saw a real live alligator!

 

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Logs and Figures:

- We ponder Geaux Green signs in Baton Rouge…Go Green!
-6:15 pm we cross into Mississippi
-8:51 pm enter Texas at exit 877 (possibly the highest exit # we will ever see).

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Driving into the Texas night we see the dim glow of city lights. Our curiosity aroused we consult the atlas to determine our location. Curiouser and curiouser, there is no city marked for miles. We crest a hill to see the orange lights splaying out far into the northern darkness and muting the stars. What is this space? What necessitates apartment buildings and football fields of orange electricity? Something unnatural is occurring here. Approaching the sci-fi city, a strange concoction of awe, fear and foreboding dominate the conversation. Deep into the monochrome maze a small white lights shines on blue writing “Goodyear”. Passing though the factory, the sound of our wheels rings loud and clear, guilt and compliance.

We are silenced.