On a busy Thursday, my mom and I took time off from everything and went to the Black Cow Coffee Company. We passed through the glass door to see a large counter full of baked goods. To the left of the room was an oval-shaped oak table and wooden chairs at one side, with small red lamps, a little table by the window, and an old black piano.
On the other side of the room were about five small tables, placed near another large window. This is where we sat, after we bought a cinnamon doughnut and cup of coffee with hazelnut flavoring (my mom never drinks coffee, but this was an Artist Date, so she did something different than usual).
In the very corner of the room, we spotted a shiny machine. A man standing beside it poured coffee beans into it, and at the front of the machine was a large basin that turned many of the dark brown beans slowly (it turns out this is a cooling process). We asked the man’s name, and he told us it was Cole Rivers, which I thought sounded like a famous person’s name if ever there was one. Then we asked Cole what the machine did, and he said it roasted the coffee beans. He scooped up some raw beans to show us what they look like before they are roasted. This is the point at which I began to question life, the universe, and everything.
Which brings us to:
← General Bean Information
Coffee comes from everywhere. It’s grown in at least 70 countries. I, for one, didn’t know coffee is grown everywhere from India to Ethiopia (the place coffee was first discovered) to Hawaii.
People drink it all the time.
Everyone knows what it is.
So how did I not know that unroasted coffee looks green? Yup. Green. (Kind of the color of green tea.)
The raw beans are then put into a coffee roasting machine, which turns them dark brown.
Since the machine was very beautiful, I took many pictures of it, especially because it looked like a steampunk train, or perhaps a control panel or a time machine.
raw coffee beans
After taking many of pictures of the machine, I finally ate some of that earlier-mentioned doughnut. But it was only a matter of minutes until I was taking pictures again. And I took pictures of everything. Take me literally when I say this.
While we’d been eating, some just-roasted coffee beans had been emptied into the basin. Unfortunately, I didn’t get any pictures of that part of the process, because it only lasted for about three seconds. While I took more various pictures, this happened a second time, which I missed, again. It turned out that this momentous moment would only happen again in another 20 minutes. And so we waited.
I looked at everything on their counter and wandered around the room, and as I did this (to no surprise) a poem was written on a coffee sleeve, based off the conversation of two people sitting nearby.
Not too much later (although it was 20 minutes, I suppose) the beans were done roasting,
the machine was emptied,
and I got some pretty cool pictures.
After a lovely afternoon, we were done at the coffee shop and ready to go home. You know, for like… real food. Doughnuts for lunch will only take you so far.
It’s awesome that we got to spend some time at the Black Cow. It was fun to hang out, I learned a little something about coffee, and I got some new photographs, more of which you can see in my photo-set Steampunk Coffee Shop.
Oh, and if anyone knew about raw coffee beans already… well, you’re amazing. Share that amazingness, or your utter shock (or perhaps a coffee poem) in the comments below, or maybe just drink a cup.
Photos and post by Sonia Joie.
Browse more Artist Dates
Browse more Coffee and Tea posts
- Artist Date: Black Cow Coffee Company - October 2, 2015
- How to Write a Story: Choosing Point of View - March 6, 2015
- Diary: A Christmas Truce - May 10, 2013
Matthew Kreider says
I had never considered the possibility of a slow-roasted, steampunk’d smile.
Or watched how steamy breath might escape between teeth made of brown beans. Some of them still green.
Had never imagined the shape of a paper cup, cinched at its middle with a corset made of polished brass.
Until I tasted this.
A lovely post. Great job.
Sonia Joie says
Thank you. 🙂
Bethany R. says
This is an Artist Date I can get behind: coffee. What charming photographs of the roasting machine, and I love the last one of the photographer reflected in the glass. The fresh bits of poem penned onto a coffee sleeve has to be my favorite part. Lovely job, Sonia Joie. Thanks for another inviting post, Tweetspeak Poetry team. This makes me want to go on an Artist Date myself.
Sonia Joie says
The machine was my favorite thing to photograph. Along with the coffee beans inside it. : )
L. L. Barkat says
You are very amusing. So… has your equilibrium with the universe been restored? 🙂
(I think coffee label poetry should be a thing.)
Sonia Joie says
Well of course you do, you wrote the poem. 😉
Monica Sharman says
When I look at those photos of the beans pouring out, I can hear it.
My favorite photo: the one with the mail truck reflected where it says “a place to gather.”
And here’s a poem:
So much backstory brewed in:
the green before the roasting,
the berry before the beans
were revealed. And—before the berry
was red-ripe—the farmers, their harvesting,
and the unknown colors smoothed under
each of their fingertips.
Donna says
I can practically smell the coffee. Love this from Sonia! I hope we will see more and more from her!
Sonia Joie says
🙂
Will Willingham says
Such fantastic images. As though they carry the aroma with them. 🙂
Simply Darlene says
i know a man who
roasts beans on his grill – he swears
it makes the best brew.
We have a smoker grill that does amazing things to apple cobbler. Wouldn’t it be nice to try home-roasted coffee with that?
—–
in the rain i stood
beneath a tarp and held my first
hot cup of coffee
My forray into the world of coffee happened out of deisre to be warm on a camping trip turned soggy.
—–
Sonia, I like those chairs with the cut-out scrollwork. And it’s nice that your mom drank coffee for the occasion. 🙂
Rick Maxson says
It is Saturday morning 6 o’clock (Central time) and I haven’t had my coffee. I am doing what I need to do before going upstairs to my own paltry-by-comparison grinder to have some French Roast.
Oh what a prelude is this photo essay! Instead of Oscar Zoroaster Phadrig Isaac Norman Henkle Emmannuel Ambroise Diggs from Emerald City, I am introduced to Sonia Joie and Cole Rivers, equally auspicious names to that of the Wizard’s, who pull the curtain back from The Black Cow Coffee Company to reveal its secrets. I loved the photos with their burnt umber undertones so suited for the subject. Ah, if I only had a cup right now (singing):
I’d be perky and loquacious.
My syntax would be spacious,
my diction would be keen.
I’d be Saturday ready,
my intentions would be steady
if I only had some bean.
Rick Maxson says
It is 6 a.m. Central time and I haven’t had my coffee. I am doing what I must do before going upstairs to my paltry-by-comparison grinder for a cup of French Roast.
Oh what a prelude is this photo essay! Instead of Oscar Zoroaster Phadrig Isaac Norman Henkle Emmannuel Ambroise Diggs from Emerald City, I am introduced to Sonia Joie and Cole Rivers who pull back the curtain to reveal the secrets of The Black Cow Coffee Company. I loved the photos! They seems to even have an umber undertone so suited to the subject. Thank you for this morning wake up. Now (singing) I will make my way up to the kitchen, imagining Cole Rivers will make me a cup of coffee like in these photographs.
I’d be perky and loquacious,
my syntax would be spacious,
my diction would be keen.
I’d be Saturday ready,
my intentions would be steady,
if I only had some bean.
Andrew H says
Ha! I’m not much of a coffee drinker, so you may call me heathen if you wish. I do love the look of that machine, though. I’ve never seen its like before. While I may not like coffee, I can make a stab at pretending I do in a poem 😛
The swirl of colours – cream and brown,
End of the day or start of something new
I know that it will end up well
With coffee and with you.
So pour the cup, my dear
And as we grow in age,
Listen to me!
Drink life,
Drink coffee.