CHASING THE PERFECT ROAST
BRANDON HARDER’S PHOTO ESSAY DEVLES INTO THE ART OF ROASTING GREAT COFFEE
Some of us are addicts. But that doesn’t mean we can’t be connoisseurs.
Deep-rooted vice, hopeless love affair — whatever you want to call it, my relationship with coffee started when I was in college. It has fuelled all of my subsequent endeavours and now keeps me ticking as a working journalist.
Along the way somewhere, I did a stretch as a barista in Saskatoon, where a good friend of mine taught me that coffee needn’t be a mere necessity.
I learned every bean has a personality that can be unlocked by a skillful roaster. Once roasted, whatever magic is contained in the bean is then turned over to the barista, who juggles grind size, pressures, temperatures, brew times, ratios and more to coax the desired flavour into a cup.
Regina is home to a number of spots where good cup can be procured. Among them is 33 1/3 Coffee Roasters.
The crew there sees the process through from beginning to end, and they were kind enough to let me document their work. It wasn’t owner Eric Galbraith’s first rodeo. He’s been roasting since since 2012, when he would do small batches on a modified barbecue. But times have changed, and Re- gina has developed a taste for Gal- braith’s craft.
Now he and manager Eric Anderson roast around 300 lbs. per week in a hulking machine to keep things flowing at their cafe, while filling orders for wholesale customers.
First they source quality beans from places all over the globe — Tanzania, Ethiopia, Guatemala, Columbia, Mexico and the like. Getting a decent bean is half the battle.
“You can’t make a poor coffee taste good,” as Galbraith puts it.
Indeed. But you can make a good coffee taste poor, if you don’t know what you’re doing.
The roasting itself is half science, half art. The 33 1/3 boys use computer software that charts their roasts, plotting temperature and time data. But before technology can help, they have to do a little bit of old-fashioned trial and error.
Speaking about the first time he roasted a certain coffee, Galbraith said: “I knew how I wanted it to taste, it was just a matter of how to get there.”
After roasting, testing, adjusting, and roasting again, profiles are built and then saved into the computer to help consistently produce winning flavours.
Still, the roasters pay close attention to the process, listening for the “first crack” as the coffee begins to pop, shedding its outer skin and releasing moisture. Before the crack, the roast is still too light. But it’s after the crack that over-roasting becomes a possibility. Roast it too dark, and all the magic — the bright, fruitiness or nutty, chocolate notes — begins to fade.
“You want to taste the bean, not the roast,” Galbraith says.
Yes, I do. That’s why I’m thankful for the serious coffee types who understand the art of roasting.
When it comes to my coffee love affair, they help keep the romance alive.