For the Love of the Game
This isn't about the Super Bowl! I know that title was misleading, especially writing today of all days. This is inspired, rather, by something much more interesting to me: a coffee cupping we enjoyed with our friends Jess and Michael Beans of Namesake Coffee earlier this week. We paid an off-farm mid-day visit to their home roastery nestled in Dayton's suburbs. It was a sort of playdate for us and something we make time for in February, in the depths of a particularly cold winter. The pair live a life much like our own, running and fostering a business together in Dayton. And so, we took them up on their offer to host us for a cupping, not dissimilar from a wine tasting. Stepping into their house, I felt at a kindred energy and a sense of home.
Burlap sacks of green coffee beans from around the world stocked a whole 20 foot corner of their house, neatly categorized by country. The churning of the industrial coffee roaster could be heard further in. And before we could get more than a few steps inside, a little boston terrier, wiggling with energy, welcomed us with lots of tail wags and body spasms, as his older compatriot lounged out of sight. A lot happens in this house that is not just a home. I could just feel it, standing there in the open concept with wooden beams running the ceiling, and the two Beans, our hosts and insatiable artisans and engineers of this steam engine of a place. The house pulsed with the specific kind of electricity that comes from the burning of much energy and exercising of creativity that it takes to build something and sustain it. It's the voltage of that inventive spirit that absolutely charges me. And maybe it refills my battery to know other people who wild enough to carve out such a rogue life for themselves.
What better way to spend a frigid February morning than in conversation with good people tucked inside a house perfumed with roasting coffee? We nearly lost ourselves in getting to know each other better, as the cups of beans which, waiting to be cupped, sat idle across their kitchen countertop. In my experience, these meetings of minds bear many great things: connection foremost, commiseration enough to feel you're not alone on the tough days, sharing of ideas, story swapping, and major inspiration. It's reminiscent of mornings at farmers market, visiting with other vendors who also spent all of the day before, maybe even the week before, curating their collection of wares and goods.
When we did make it to the kitchen island, Michael and Jess led us through a blind coffee cupping; we were suddenly immersed in their world. We all took notes as we tasted seven coffees: what did we smell? And next, what did we taste? Chocolate, brownie, cherry, nuts, grass, tomatoes? (I think I just miss tomatoes), my mom's spritz cookies, berries and wine, yeasty bread?, astringency, must. Rich and I were steeped in a whole nother world. We are already big coffee lovers and Rich has even begun to buy green beans and roast himself, satiating that mad scientist gene of his. But to share notes and giggle and be surprised that we were onto something when we jotted down berries in the flavor profile...the region and country a bean hails from, the method by whiched the beans were harvested washed (or not) and processed, the esters that allure you or repel you, depending on your palate...we were swept up in the experience. And to have the beans revealed to us afterward: Kenya, Guatemala, natural process, washed...and the story behind how coffee is grown and collected and sold depending on the country and how developed their coffee culture is...we started to build a base understanding of terroir and the coffee trade. I suppose we were completely impassioned by the Beans' passion, craft and endless pursuit of their curiousity of coffee.
And even more so, we were inspired by two people motivated by curiousity and a love of what they do, so much so that their humility wouldn't even have them call it a craft. That's likely too lofty for Michael and Jess, who don't indulge in the praise they warrant from their wholesale and retail clients and USA Today who awarded them the 5th best coffee subscription in our country. They have made something completely of themselves, something that we know firsthand is hard to do. They actually scratched the itch to try something and pursued it to offer something authentic to the world, supporting coffee growers who do much the same, dedicated to details as minute as sustainable packaging and as big as offering equipment technician maintenance to their clients. In spite of last year's tariffs, the Beans work collaboratively with their wholesale clients to weather the storm, and shrink their margins, in the hopes that all parties would see each other on the other side. The integrity of people who are in it for the right reason makes the product taste even better. As if the freshness of the beans and the quality of the roast weren't delicious enough.
It's the love of the game. Their coffee is a carrier of their love and zeal, roasted, packaged and currently fueling many of Dayton's gathering places: Grist, Salt Block Biscuit Co, Val's Bakery, Partial to Pie, Boosalis Bakery, Table 33 and the homes of anyone who buys a retail bag off the shelf of Shoppe Smitten, Gem City Market, Maraluna/Reduce Reuse Refillery, etc or signs up for their coffee subscription which ships country-wide. In this life on a very modern earth, I am so grateful for people who are motivated by the love of the game, even in the corporate settings: nurses, school teachers, our local UPS driver who offered to text us in case our driveway was embedded in snow and we needed to meet him to get our incoming package of seeds for this season. Oftentimes small business owners can not expect some great financial benefit from doing what they do, in a climate dominated by consolidation and unsustainable gobbling up of resources. But the Beans, Rich and I are grateful to be in Dayton. We all avowed that the reason we stay here and grow more intertwined with Dayton is because of the community who champions localized business, and who values endeavors like ours, which lift each other up, stimulate the local economy, and support practices that do not exploit resources or people.
By the time we were leaving the Beans' house and roastery, our tails between our legs for how generous they were with their time and their candor, the sun had peaked and was in descension, lighting up the white world outside and the neighborhood smelled of roasting coffee as the roaster expelled heat, pyrazines and other organic compounds into the air. Back to our little farmhouse, an engine in itself, to light the woodstove and return to our labor of love. Fueled by caffeine and inspired by an afternoon sipping coffee with two benevolent bootstrappers, I found the motivation to finish itemizing our taxes for the year and to (nearly ;)) finalize our field plan for the season. Turns out you can do anything, even the most bureaucratic of tasks, when you're doing it for love :).
Thank you for reading.
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