Tag Archives: Local Coffee

The drive thru

To Bean or Not to Bean?

The Human Bean opened its first store in Ashland, Oregon, in 1998. Early success and positive customer reception encouraged us to open additional locations throughout Southern Oregon during the next five years. We now own and operate twelve corporate stores with plans for modest corporate store growth in the Pacific Northwest. The most significant growth of the brand has occurred through franchising.

The Human Bean is the one drive thru I’ve really wanted to do a review about. I’ve heard great things about their coffee and their franchise, and thought it was time to give them a try and write an analysis about my experience.

As I pulled up to the coffee shop I gave the stand a look over. Visually appealing, clever logo, even cleverer name. Their menu didn’t shout anything too spectacular, but it covered the basics and added a couple specialty drinks- not uncommon. Giving it a quick scan, I decided on a 16oz double shot mocha. Beginning to pull forward I glanced at the ordering window. Laden with stickers of brands, it showed that they are proud of their sponsors and product producers. The barista stepped forward, opened the window, and asked me what I wanted.

That’s when it started going downhill.

In my experience, more then half of the coffee experience is the environment. I could get the best brew on earth, but if the staff serving it is rude and impolite, the coffee is probably going to taste weak and dusty.
Drive thru coffee shops are unique in that they have only minutes to set the atmosphere, make the coffee, and give the customer a good experience. Typically drive thru coffee shops, whether they be locally owned or a corporately managed, will only employ baristas who are full of energy and exploding with happiness. Hopefully this barista will influence the customer in such a way that will turn them into a returning customer, then a regular.

The drive thruI noticed several things shortly after ordering my drink. First, the barista (a college-aged female) didn’t look very excited. Granted, it’s a Sunday, it’s cold outside, and the booth looked pretty crammed. I probably wouldn’t want to be in her place. That being said, she was already putting a bad taste in my mouth (pun intended).
To make things worse, she didn’t talk to me while making my drink. Again, giving her the benefit of the doubt, she may have been focusing on making a good coffee. After a couple moments of awkward silence, I attempted to strike up some small talk.
“So, what kind of coffee do you guys use?”
“Coffee…like, regular coffee or espresso?” she said.
“Espresso.” I replied
“Farm Friendly Direct.” is what I think she said. It was a little hard to hear her above the whir of the steaming milk.
“Oh, ok. Cool.” I replied.

After a couple more moments of silence:
“So, what kind of roast is that?” I asked.
She paused,
“Is it like a medium roast?” I asked, prompting her.
“Yeah, I think it’s a medium roast.” She replied, after some hesitation.

At that point it became clear that the barista really wasn’t sure what kind of coffee she was serving me.


Now, please don’t misread what I’m trying to say. This one barista may not be the standard that The Human Bean normally employs. In fact, she may have simply been having an off day.
The fact of the matter is that I really wasn’t impressed with the service.

So, those are the cons. What are the pros?

My coffee was made quickly, and served with a chocolate covered coffee bean. If nothing else, I left with a sweet present to snack on. I didn’t get a chance to try the coffee until I got home, but here’s my review:

Not entirely strong. It wouldn’t surprise me at all if The Human Bean does use a medium espresso blend. In fact, here’s what their website says:

Our signature blend combines Indonesian, Central American, and African beans to create espresso that is smooth with a hint of berries and a bright finish.  It’s great for mocha’s and flavored lattes.

Well, it really was pretty good in a mocha. I’m not a huge fan of weak coffee, but I did enjoy this particular drink. The mocha was well made: smooth beginning, hints of the espresso with a strong chocolate note to accompany. Both notes rang clear through the end of the sip, and as they hit my palette the orchestra erupted into the climax of the song. The finish was smooth, like the beginning, with the classic mocha aftertaste: bittersweet, with thick saliva containing leftovers as if to remind me of what I’m drinking. Truthfully, I did enjoy my mocha.

Will I visit The Human Bean again? Probably, if only to give it a second chance.
I wasn’t impressed with the service, and the coffee was ok, but in all honesty I think the real problem of The Human Bean for me boils down to one thing: it’s a franchise. Their website says that their real growth started when they franchised. Fiscally, I understand this. But relationally? My first impression was negative. The barista didn’t talk to me, and what questions I did ask were responded to with hesitation and slight ignorance. To me, this equation has a couple variables that are off. My call is that somewhere in the franchising of the “local” Human Bean, something vital was lost. The customer care. Now, while it’s true that franchises can get their mojo back, I always am sad to see such great potential lost at the hands of untrained baristas, automatic espresso machines, and fancy logos.

My hope is that next time I visit The Human Bean, they’ll prove me wrong.

What’s been your experience with coffee franchises? Do you like The Human Bean? Comment and let me know!

The Coffee Guy

Bringing the art of coffee to Idaho: Rembrandt’s

I’m a local to Idaho. I’ve lived here my whole life. I’ve slept in the mountains, walked the streets, and made great memories. I’ve spent countless hours hanging out downtown, rafted the river multiple days in a row, and have grown up eating Delsa’s Ice Cream.

But somehow, in all this, I’ve missed Rembrandt’s Coffee House in Eagle.

I’m not sure exactly how this happened – I’m a guru for local gems! How could I have missed a place so integral to the heart of local coffee shops?

Rembrandt’s Coffee House is an extremely unique place. Chances are, if you’re a local to Idaho and are reading this blog, you’ve been there and you know what I mean.
Located in what used to be an old church building, Rembrandt’s is homey to the heart. Walking in, I found myself  confronted not with posters of BUY BUY BUY! but rather with a genuine warmth. The place is lit with the kind of lights that remind one of embers after a fire has died down. The walls are decorated with abstract and beautiful paintings. The place is drenched in history, I could feel it leaking out of the golden colored walls. Walking up to the cash register, I realized that although good coffee is a definite goal here, the real aim of Rembrandt’s is to inspire community among people. This was made even clearer when, after I was done ordering my coffee, I turned around to take a seat. The ‘sanctuary-turned-living-room’ is filled with couches, chairs, coffee tables; and plenty of each. The couches aren’t your run-of-the-mill crapperware either- they’re genuinely comfy cozy sofas! Rembrandt’s is quality from the door to the floor, that none can argue.

Standing in line to grab my coffee, I realized I knew the barista who would be making my coffee! I found this ironic; here I was trying to do an unbiased review of a local coffeehouse when someone I knew would be making the very coffee I would be reviewing. Yet, it seemed appropriate. If the goal of Rembrandt’s is truly to inspire community, how is this better demonstrated then by me knowing the person serving my drink? I found it comforting to know this place is for locals, by locals.

I got a Pumpkin Spice Breve – a favorite since the trees have turned colors and leaves have fallen. The 16oz double-shot brewwas served “for here” in a large ceramic coffee cup. This, again, added to the community, almost family, feel. On top of that, the coffee, which I had ordered “just a little dry,” had beautiful coffee art on the foam! I felt like I would be destroying an incredible painting just by drinking! And yet, I found the true art to be beneath the beautiful froth.

The coffee was truly good. Because I got a flavored drink, I can’t attest to the house blend, but all the same I enjoyed what I did have. The start was smooth and clean – nothing to distract the flavor. As the liquid moved its way to the middle of my mouth, just touching my palette, I found myself enjoying a curious taste- almost as if this was a mysterious fruit I hadn’t tasted before. I wouldn’t call it bad by any count, but it was different. The final decent of the coffee to the back of my mouth was again clean, with a sweet aftertaste similar to what you might find in an apple, or pear. The finish was a little weaker then the start, with a bit of an odd aftertaste. That being said, it did leave me wanting more, and that’s all that really matters in my book. I finished the cup, and really was satisfied with the product.

The truly remarkable thing about Rembrandt’s Coffee House is that the atmosphere yearns for community. Although undoubtedly a rare event, I’d hate to be there on an evening when the seats are empty and the air still. It’s the type of place I’d love to walk in to and order “the usual.”

People talking, working, thinking, reading, and pondering are really what makes Rembrandt’s Coffee house the type of place I will come back to.
And return I will, if only to savor the sweet environment- oh, and a cup of coffee.

But really, how in the world did I miss this for so long?

The Coffee Guy

“Since 1927: Caffe Reggio”

This is a continuation from my trip to the East Coast. Check here and here for more.

Past all the bars, avoiding the busy New York traffic; all of a sudden there it was.
A friend had led me and my dad to this spot saying that it was a great meeting place. Seeing so many bars on the route didn’t set well with me, but as soon as I saw this place I knew he was right.

Caffe Reggio boasts being around since the ’20’s. Not a bad thing to boast considering most “old” coffee places you’ll find were started in the mid ’70’s. Their awning sign, however, boasted that they serve the “Original Cappuccino.” We’ll have to see about that.

Walking inside, a rustic sight met my eyes. The small building had room for about 20 comfortable people, but was cramming about double that into the sardine-like seating. The awesome thing was that nearly every seat was taken! I noted this before grabbing a seat myself. Unlike the hip, Mac-loving crowd I had seen at Think Coffee, Caffe Reggio was filled with older men and women. The type of people that were there to enjoy a night stroll and a good book. Many had friends with them and were chatting so that the room was filled with a dull roar.
Looking at the menu, a beautiful list of espresso drinks smiled back at me:

That’s right folks, this place is legit. No “kahuna kapow mochas” or “double chocolate artery clogger breves” to be found here. Only straight up, Italian style espresso.
And yet, as promising as the menu looked, I still had to do a review. So, I ordered a hazelnut cappuccino from the barista and sat back to fully admire my surroundings.

The building truly was old- probably hadn’t changed much since the ’20’s. The wallpaper was scratched and faded in most areas. Paintings lined the walls all with Italian feels to them. The chairs were wooden, and the lights had a reddish tint to them. If I ever lived in New York, this would be the place I would come to kick back and do some intellectual thinking or have a stimulating conversation. It had an atmosphere of old brilliance.

My coffee came, and the first thing I noticed was the thick layer of milk foam on the top. And I mean THICK. This baby was fluffy like a cloud, and took up about the top 1/3 of the drink. That’s what I call a cappuccino. After doing some dry slurping, I finally reached the coffee. I expected some kind of raw taste with a hint of hazelnut, but that’s not at all what I actually got. My drink was sweet. Like, really sweet. Like, Dutch Bros. sweet. I was rather surprised, and it took me a second to actually process what I was drinking. After a few more drinks, the initial shock wore off and I was able to judge the coffee. It was smooth and crisp with a note of fruitiness about it. Almost definitely Arabica beans. Asking the barista slipped my mind as I got lost in the conversation with those I was with. Here’s what I do recall from the experience however:

The coffee reminded me of a cherry tree: a rough middle with plenty of sweetness to go around. The coffee wasn’t slap-in-the-face hard stuff, but it had a definite kick to it. I was getting jittery sitting down after about half of my drink. The foam provided a nice solid base to go back to, and I was glad I had gone with the cappuccino because of this. Regardless of the quality of their coffee, whoever had made this drink definitely knew how to handle milk. The espresso really wasn’t anything to write home about, but the style of the drink did make it all worth it.

For any New Yorker’s out there, or for those who are planning on traveling there in the future:
Visit Caffe Reggio. This place is dripping with history. You won’t regret meeting the baristas and taking a look around. If you’ve got friends and something to chat about, this is definitely the place to go.

So, great coffee? Nah. Great cappuccino? Yes. Great conversation? Definitely.

The Coffee Guy