well warmed pitcher; pour on it a pint of freshly-boiled
water, and stir it to saturate the coffee: cover close with
a cloth pressed into the top, and let it stand on the range
five minutes. Have another heated vessel (a pitcher, if
you choose); lay a piece of muslin (scalded) over it, and
pour the coffee carefully through it. This will be clear,
fragrant coffee.
BOILED COFFEE.
This is preferred by many, although it lacks the aroma of
filtered coffee, which some consider a _raw_ flavor. Put two
tablespoonfuls of coffee into an ordinary coffee-pot, with a
pint of boiling water. Stir it well; then let it just boil
up, and set it where it will keep hot, but _not boil_. Throw
into it a tablespoonful of cold water, and in five minutes
pour out a cupful of the coffee, return it to the pot,
repeat this, leave it five minutes to settle, and the coffee
will be perfectly clear, without any egg to clear it.
Of course I am assuming, when I promise good coffee from either of
these methods, that you use the best quality of coffee. Out of poor
coffee you may make a _clear liquid_, but you can never make fine
coffee. By fresh-boiled water, I mean water which has not been kept
boiling, but is used as soon as it boils.
But it is not enough to know how to make good coffee. There are
mysteries about it which beset even those who understand how to make
it--periods when the coffee will be poor in spite of the quantity or
quality of coffee used, or it will be bitter, black, and flavorless,
even though we know we have the finest Java, the very same that has
yielded golden fragrance to us heretofore. So it seems to me not enough
to tell how to perform the simple feat of making coffee, but how to
explain the periodical deterioration to which it is subject. The first
difficulty is that of a weak product, in spite of the fact that you
know the right quantity of coffee, and not too much water, is used. You
may be almost sure, in this instance, that the coffee is not ground
fine enough, half of it, probably, being as large as rice. Alter the
screw of your mill. It is harder work to grind coffee when the mill is
screwed tight, and you may not find it easy to keep it screwed just
right, for it will develop a perverse tendency to loosen under Delia's
care, which you will know by your coffee being weak and your grocer's
bill long.
Another trouble that seems sometimes unaccountable: The coffee will
be cloudy in spite of strainers. There is only one honest reason for
this--the coffee may be ground too fine. But this is unlikely; it is
more probable that the water has been poured all at once into the
strainer, instead of gradually. This would have taken a long time to
drip through, and a spoon has been used to facilitate the process, and
muddy coffee is the result.
Sometimes families will have trouble of another sort. The coffee will
be strong and bitter, without aroma, and when milk is added, instead of
the beautiful, clear brown it should be, it will be of a blackish hue.
This kind of poor coffee will come to the table week after week, and
the quality of the coffee itself be blamed. It comes from one of two
causes: It has been made too long and kept hot in the pot, or the pot
itself is not well kept.
Not even milk-pans require more scrupulous care than the coffee-pot.
It may be rinsed after each time of using, and yet be far from
clean. There is an oily property about coffee which adheres in spite
of rinsing out. You can see this for yourself by taking almost any
coffee-pot that has been some time in use (unless it has been very
carefully kept), and you will find clinging to it a sort of black
grease (not brown); this will come off if you rub a cloth round the
inside. Now, this deposit, for some reason which I should like to have
explained, destroys the fragrance, color, and flavor of coffee. If you
see your coffee looks black-brown instead of ruddy brown, you will know
it will be flavorless, however strong.
To keep this black oil from the pot it must be daily washed (not
rinsed), scalded, and _dried_. Each piece of a French coffee-pot
should be separately dried before it is put away. If packed together
wet, the strainers will in time give a metallic taste. Another reason
for great care is that, without it, the strainers get clogged and the
coffee will not go through.
If you find your coffee-pot has been neglected, put a piece of washing
soda as large as a hickory-nut into hot water; set the strainers in it;
let them stand on the stove for hours; put the same in the coffee-pot;
then rub and brush both till the wire gauze is clear and all the black
removed; then run boiling water slowly through, and dry it. Let the
care be daily afterwards. The grease will not form, nor will the gauze
fill up, if a pint or so of boiling water is poured through _every_
morning and it is dried before being put away. _Cold_ water is worse
than useless, as it sets the oil. Sometimes the coffee-pot is put away
exactly as it leaves the table, with left-over coffee in it. This
should never be.
In drying the coffee-pot, or warming it, be careful not to let it get
too hot, or there will be the flavor of burnt coffee to spoil the
beverage for that occasion.
THE STORY OF COFFEE.
_Its History, Properties and Powers, as described by Hester M. Poole._
[Illustration]
IT would be almost as desirable to know who drank the first decoction
of coffee as "who tamed the first wild steed," or "who first conquered
fire." Perhaps, like Charles Lamb's roast pig, it was first parched
through the burning of a rude cabin, near which grew the odorous and
inviting shrub. Some of the roasted berries may have fallen into a
calabash of water, whose primitive possessor, weary and thirsty through
vain efforts to save his shelter, drank unwittingly of the decoction,
and, in the bewitching cup, made a great discovery while drowning his
sense of misfortune. All great benefits to mankind have their origin
in obscurity. It will never be known whether coffee was first used in
Abyssinia, Arabia, or Ethiopia, as the plant grows wild in each of
these countries. Its name is derived from Kaffa, in Eastern Africa, and
a Mahometan legend ascribes its discovery to a party of dervishes, who,
for some misdemeanor, were banished from the city of Mocha on or about
the year 1250. Repairing to the mountains of Yemen, they came near
starvation before finding that, upon chewing the wild coffee berry,
their strength was marvellously supported and hunger relieved during
enforced fasts and vigils. The prior, Sheykh Omer, began to steep
the berries in water and to dry a store of the fruit for sustenance
during long marches. Its use spread to other dervishes, then to Mecca
and Mocha, Damascus and Aleppo, till, in the year 1550, coffee became
the favorite drink in Constantinople, in which city coffee-houses
were soon after opened. If Prior Omer has not yet been canonized, he
should certainly fill the first vacant niche, for, surely, no man
ever conferred greater enjoyment upon his fellows. Yet, during a long
period--perhaps for ages--the wild tribes in the interior of Africa had
before that date used the berry, and the incident of the burning of the
primitive hut is neither far-fetched nor improbable.
As the mosques were comparatively deserted for the coffee-houses, the
Mufti was petitioned to issue edicts against the use of a beverage so
delicious as to cause the sons of the faithful to forget the call to
prayer, and for a little while it was a secret and stolen delight.
Seeing that it could not be suppressed, the priests, with an eye to
the main chance--common to the powers that be in all nations--wisely
decided to impose a high tax upon the berry, and the coffee bean,
from that day to this, has been the daily inspiration of the dreamy,
sensuous, and fate-worshiping Turk.
It was not until about the year 1670 that coffee-drinking became
popular in France, though infrequent travelers had brought with them
from the East a few pounds of the curious berry. At that time Solomon
Aga was sent from the Sublime Porte to the court of Louis XIV.,
and he became very soon the rage, through the splendid and unique
entertainments at which he figured as host. Costly Eastern stuffs, at
that time seldom found in the elegant capital, displayed the rich and
harmonious coloring of which the Turks are masters. Divans and cushions
of embroidered velvet shot with gold, prayer rugs of every kind and
device, vestments of many hues, bedizened with jewels and diamonds--all
these made him the magnate of the city.
Most of all, the gay world coveted the services of exquisite porcelain
and silver, the napkins fringed with bullion, and--served in cups of
egg-shell porcelain, hot, strong, and fragrant--that delicious coffee
which has never lost the place it then secured. On bended knees the
slaves of the ambassador presented the choicest Mocha to these grande
dames, who fluttered their fans with many grimaces and bent their
piquant faces--bepatched, bepowdered, and berouged--over the steaming
beverage. Such were the half-barbaric occasions upon which coffee first
became generally known to that nation which is now so largely dependent
upon the tiny brown berry of Arabia. Four years afterward an Armenian
opened the first coffee-house to the Parisian public. Others followed
his example, and a little later beer and wine were also served at the
same establishments. Finer than any of his predecessors came a dusky
Italian from Florence, and to his salon flocked the chief literary men
of the last quarter of the seventeenth century. Coffee became a tyrant,
and, as tyrant, it still holds matutinal and undisputed sway over the
civilized portions of the earth.
Common as it is in this age, it was then an expensive luxury. The
cultivation of the plant was confined to small districts, navigation
tedious, and commerce with the East restricted. It is recorded that
the daughters of King Louis of France had coffee imported for the use
of the royal household at a cost of £3,200 yearly,--a fact which, after
making all due allowance, shows that "rings" must have existed as far
back as two centuries ago. The exact date of the introduction of coffee
into England is not known. It is supposed to have been about the middle
of the seventeenth century, and it became a popular drink there earlier
than in France. Perhaps this may be due to the fact that the first
English merchant who dealt in coffee had lived in Constantinople, and
brought back with him to London a pretty Greek wife, who acted as his
saleswoman. At first it sold for four or five guineas per pound, but
soon became cheaper.
Coffee-houses multiplied, not only in the capital, but in all the
large cities. Long antedating common newspapers, these shops were news
centers, where the intelligent men of the age gathered to learn what
was taking place, to discuss public affairs and governmental measures,
and form public opinion. Considering that they were hot-beds of
sedition and revolution, Charles II. ordered them closed in 1675, but
the order was soon revoked. Cromwell ordered them closed again during
the Protectorate for reasons somewhat similar; but they had become
necessities to the people, and could not be put down for any great
length of time.
Wits and poets, essayists and philosophers, daily gathered in the
coffee-houses of London during several generations. How much they
quoted from favorite authors--how faithfully they harangued and
button-holed each other in that fashion, common to all ages, from the
cloudy eras of the Chimpanzees to the year of our Lord 1887--there are
no annals full enough to describe. Within their precincts, what fear
and folly, what foolishness and wisdom, have been uttered over steaming
cups of Mocha!
It was at Will's Coffee-house, Covent Garden, that Dryden and Addison,
Steele and Davenant, Carey and Pope, met with other luminaries, and if
it be proven that other potations, more fiery and deep, mingled with
those of the Eastern berry, it may well be surmised that coffee often
supplied the place of worse beverages, or mitigated their evil effects.
The "intellectual drink," as it has been called, gained friends every
day among the wits of the reign of Queen Anne. Here Pope found the
inspiration of "The Rape of the Lock," if not the "Essay on Man," an
inspiration which he celebrated in these lines:
"From silver spouts the grateful liquors glide,
While China's earth receives the smoking tide;
At once they gratify their sense and taste,
And frequent cups prolong the rich repast.
Coffee!--which makes the politician wise,
And see through all things with his half-shut eyes!"
Prior to the year 1700, coffee planting had been confined to Africa.
The preceding year the President of the Dutch East Indies had brought
some of the shrubs to Batavia, and Java rapidly became one of the first
coffee-bearing countries--now exporting more than 75,000 tons annually.
A shrub was sent from Batavia to Amsterdam shortly after, and in 1710 a
shoot from this plant was taken as a curiosity to Louis XIV., who had
it carefully tended in the _Jardin des Plants_, where it flourished for
some years.
But, with the development of the New World, coffee was a necessary
concomitant. Across the stormy ocean, to the Island of Martinique, the
Grand Monarch sent three plants in 1720, only one of which survived the
voyage, and from this one shrub have sprung all the rich and expensive
plantations of the West Indies and Central and South America.
It was not till the year 1754 that the first coffee tree was planted by
a friar in the garden of the convent to which he was attached in Rio
Janeiro, and not till 1809 did the first cargo of coffee land on the
shores of the United States. Now, three-quarters of our coffee comes
from Brazil, although much of it is sold under the name of Mocha or
Java, the Chamber of Commerce report itself declaring that the "Santos
pea berry and other similar appearing beans are used by mixers to
supplement the supply of genuine Mocha." It would be a gratification to
be able to say that no other mixing or adulteration is practiced.
Brazil, under the enlightened statesmanship of Dom Pedro, now ships
from her ports over one million of pounds daily, Sundays included, only
a portion of which comes to this country. At our ports, chiefly at New
York, vessels are unloading which received their precious freightage
at Maracaibo, Central America, Savanilla, Hayti, Porto Rico, Jamaica,
Macassar, Ceylon and Mexico, as well as from places which have been
previously mentioned.
In the year 1886, 247,141 tons of coffee were used in the United
States, against 242,677 tons in 1885. This gives an increase in one
year of 1.8 per cent., making the _per capita_ consumption of the
population of 60,000,000 to be 9.22 pounds, nearly nine pounds and a
quarter for every man, woman and child in this country.
As may be supposed, the consumption of the berry is yearly increasing.
While this is due partly to the growth of population, it is still
more affected by the increasing popularity of coffee as a beverage,
by its relative cheapness, and by the fact that it is prepared much
easier than before it was sold in its roasted state. The loss and labor
entailed in the preliminary preparation deterred many housekeepers from
its use. A moment's forgetfulness or preoccupation converted the berry
into a piece of charcoal, and rendered it bitter and innutritious. Now,
by the aid of large roasting establishments and improved machinery,
that tedious process is thoroughly done, though, it must be confessed,
with the loss of a slight portion of its volatile aroma.
This loss, again, is more than balanced by the avoidance of a more
serious trouble. Large dealers well know that, in order to give
coffee a good color and thereby increase its value, the traders in
Rio and manipulators in New York use vile drugs, coloring matter, and
soapstone. To buy this green coffee and roast it at home is to take
slow poison, because this adulteration is not wholly dissipated by the
process of roasting. The large roasters of the country do not buy this
doctored berry; they care nothing for the appearance if the coffee
roasts well, and is clear and free from "quakers" or decayed berries.
Therefore it is better to buy roasted coffee of the retailer, either in
paper packages or out of tins bearing the name of a reputable house,
and refuse to purchase the green under any circumstances. The can from
which it is taken should be practically air-tight. Coffee scooped from
the top must come in contact, more or less, with the atmosphere, and
readily loses its value. Nothing so quickly parts with its delicate
aroma; nothing so easily absorbs injurious or disagreeable particles
from surrounding substances. The near presence of decayed vegetables,
kerosene oil, effluvia, or foul air of any kind, not only destroys its
delicacy, but may render it deleterious. That very quality which makes
it capable of cleansing a room of foul odors is the very property which
makes it dangerous to expose it to them.
The average consumption of coffee per head now amounts to slightly over
nine and a half pounds yearly, an increase of over five per cent.,
or about one-half pound more for every man, woman and child for one
year. As a whole, the United States consumes coffee largely, but it
has not reached the point of consumption of Denmark, where the average
is thirteen and a half pounds for each person, and of Holland, where
the _per capita_ consumption is twenty-one pounds. But with Mexico on
the west materially increasing her yield of coffee, and with increased
railroad facilities for commerce with this country, dealers in the
fragrant berry expect that the importation this year will be double
that of last year. Mexican coffee is of excellent quality, but loses
its identity by being mixed with other grades. It figures under other
names, just as various kinds of wine are mingled to make champagne.
Coffee-growing is an industry as interesting as it is important. In
Brazil the seed is sown in the shade of coffee trees in long rows.
At the end of a year the plants have reached about the height of
a foot, and are ready for transplantation. The grounds which are
selected for plantations lie principally between 25° north and 30°
south of the equator, as the plant does not flourish in a climate
where the thermometer falls below 55°. High altitudes also favor its
perfect development, and the best berries are found on hills having an
elevation of 3,000 or 4,000 feet above the sea. The ground must be rich
in mineral matter, well watered and well drained.
The plants are then removed to the plantation and set out in long beds,
at a distance of four to six feet apart, with roadways between the
beds. The plants are topped when reset, and are ever after kept closely
pruned, so that they are about twelve feet high, instead of attaining
their natural growth of fifteen or twenty feet. In three years the bush
bears fruit, and thereafter for forty years, being in full vigor from
its tenth year till its decay. From three to eight pounds are plucked
yearly from each bush, and the longer the bean is kept the richer will
be its flavor.
And a beautiful sight it is when the coffee unfolds its first blossoms
during September and October! Appearing in clusters only for a day
or two at the axils of the dark-green, shining, evergreen leaves,
the scene is made all the more brilliant by the consciousness of its
evanescence. Each flower consists of a small, five-clefted white
corolla, affording a fine contrast to the laurel-like leaf, some four
or five inches in length. The bright blue sky, the warm air, the
billowy lines of foliage, the clusters of jessamine-like flowers,
tossing fragrance from their tiny bells, the intoxicated butterflies
flitting from plant to plant, all belong to a climate as unlike our
northland as it is possible for the mind to conceive.
Soon the fruit makes its appearance,--green at first, but shortly
turning a dark red,--which is ripe for gathering in March, and from
that until August. The two seeds or berries contained within the fruit,
which is shaped something like a cranberry or a cherry, are glued
together, each being enveloped in a peculiar, leathery, parchment-like
membrane.
The berries are picked by hand, care being taken to select only those
which are perfectly ripe. They are then thrown into large, open yards,
paved with rock and stone, with a grade sufficient for the free
drainage of water. After a few days' exposure to the sun, the berries
being perfectly dry, they are put in the crusher to separate the berry
from the husk. The coffee is then passed through large and small
sieves, one under the other, with a fan at the back, by which means the
husks are winnowed from the berry.
Grading follows next, according to the size of the grain. The best
grade of coffee is Mocha, the next Java. The blending of various
qualities is one of the most difficult accomplishments, without which,
good coffee is almost an impossibility. Hence it is that retail
dealers, who roast their own coffee, so often fail of success, since
it requires skill, experience, and a knowledge of the properties of
different growths to produce blendings which suit the palate.
As might be expected, numerous adulterations are found in ground
coffees of inferior grades. Some of them, like venetian red to give
color, are positively poisonous. Others, like chicory, an endive like
the dandelion, are injurious. Tons of this root are annually consumed,
many persons believing that it accentuates the flavor of the real
article. Yet it has been proven that chicory produces heartburn,
cramps, and, finally, total blindness.
Besides these, are less noxious mixtures of roasted corn, beans, peas,
wheat, rye, dandelion, and various nuts. As long ago as 1850, 18,000
pounds of vegetable matter were sold for coffee in the United States.
Professor Sharples, the State Assayer of Massachusetts, last year found
that one favorite brand contained no coffee at all. It was made up of
green peas, burnt molasses, and "an occasional grain of rye." Another
French coffee was a concoction of peas, rye, and oats. Be sure of an
honest grocer, is the moral, unless the coffee is burnt and ground at
home. Some of these ingredients are harmless enough, but who wishes to
be deceived and defrauded?
The adulterations of ground coffee can be easily detected. It must
be premised here that the genuine coffee berry is extremely hard and
tough. Every one knows the character of the grounds even after long
soaking and boiling. "Now," says an expert, "a spoonful of pure coffee
placed gently on the surface of a glass of cold water will float for
some time and scarcely color the liquid. If it contains chicory it will
rapidly absorb the water, and, sinking to the bottom of the glass,
communicate a deep reddish brown tint as it falls. Again, shake a
spoonful of the coffee with a wineglassful of water, then place the
glass upon the table. If it is pure it will rise to the surface and
scarcely color the liquid; if chicory is present it will sink to the
bottom and the water will be tinged of a deep red as before."
Still again: "If, when a few pinches of the suspected coffee are placed
upon water in a wineglass, part floats and part sinks, there is reason
to believe it is adulterated either with chicory, roasted corn, or
other substances. Coffee does not absorb the water; other substances
do.... If the cold water becomes deeply colored, it is evidence of the
presence of some roasted vegetable or burnt sugar. Or if, when a few
grains of coffee, spread out on a piece of glass, are moistened with a
few drops of water, we are enabled to pick out, by means of a needle,
minute pieces of a soft substance, the coffee is adulterated, for the
coffee particles are hard and resisting."
But, given coffee pure as pure can be, what are its effects upon the
system?