As I type this, the summer solstice is just beginning. Pennsylvania is coming out of a long period of rainy weather, and I’m emerging from an equally lengthy period of lethargy. The one had nothing to do with the other. I feel energized by the kind of weather that everyone else thinks is dreary. It must be the English ancestry. Melancholia has throughout history been credited with imparting a distinctive form of inspiration. I second that assessment.
The last leg of my trip to Maryland, about three weeks ago, is still fresh in my mind, though. If you’ll recall, I was in a state of confusion. There was a discrepancy between what my map said (Falls Road General Store existed in the town of Whitehouse) and the reality on the ground (two different stores existed). Having just left shop number one (The Tin Rabbit), I looked both ways and ran across the street to the current general store: Crossroads. Whew!
Crossroads is aptly named. It’s at a relatively busy intersection of several major roads, though aside from the general store and an old barn, there isn’t much here to see (unless you count the bucolic beauty of Maryland’s countryside). Even so, I can only imagine the number of people who travel through this area on their way to somewhere else, desperately in need of coffee and carbs. That’s where Crossroads comes in.
If I’m interpreting correctly, the process of moving the general store across the street from its original home (across the street) began in November and finished up this January. It must have been quite an endeavor. After all, it’s not just coffee and sweets being sold here. As I was to find out, there was something very special about this general store: It’s also a general store for musicians.
When I walked in, I have to admit, I was a bit underwhelmed. There didn’t seem to be much for sale that I was interested in, and seating was minimal. Things are still clearly in the process of development following a rapid move in an uncertain economy. As I was pacing about, ready to get my coffee, take a few photos, and leave, the barista suddenly asked: “Do you want to see the upstairs?” Of course I did, though I had no idea what to expect. Sure, there had been a mention of music on a banner waving in the breeze outside, but nothing musical was to be found on that first floor. So, with a bit of skepticism, I walked up the stairs.
I’ve never seen a collection of musical instruments and accoutrements this extensive outside a studio or specialty shop. Upon every wall and in every nook hung dozens of stringed instruments and accessories, including an entire alcove filled with amps of differing size and sophistication. I was awestruck. I played the flute in middle school, but I never got deeply involved in the ‘scene’ of professional musicianship. For anyone who is, this place would be akin to a candy store, I’m sure. I took special care not to spill a drop of coffee.
But what of the coffee?
Looking below, you’ll see that the roast comes courtesy of Ceremony Coffee Roasters. Appropriately enough, it’s a Baltimore roaster. Right next door, geographically speaking. The thing is, they’re not what you’d call a ‘craft’ roaster. Ceremony offers wholesale options for large-scale buyers, and the size of the bag I photographed attests to the scale of their production. That said, Ceremony does everything it can to brand itself apart from other roasters of similar scope. I admire that. It’s hard to brand a large roaster as distinctive (because mass appeal is the point), but Ceremony does a fine job of it.
The first sip still had me worried. After all, large roasters tend to be a bit generic. And you know, this might very well have been if not for the effort of the baristas. The dark roast I had was savory all right, with nice acid structure, but it was a bit astringent…or, rather, it would have been astringent if the person who made it hadn’t left it sitting just a bit ‘too long’ after percolating. Freshness is relative. Some coffees gain backbone if they’re left in the pot for a while. That’s not staleness. That’s maturity. Sometimes, you’ll make coffee with hard water. Sometimes, you’ll use too much water and too few beans, in which case, the finished product will be limpid. Being a good brewer is knowing how an individual coffee responds to a specific set of parameters. The baristas were young, but they seemed to have good intuition. That’s worth a shout-out.
This trip inspired me to do one thing: take more of them. Stasis leads to ennui. I need to see some new sights and do some new things. That’s what the festival season is best for, and we’re right in the heart of it. The direction will therefore be stochastic. That’s ‘random.’ I’m heading wherever the festivals and events take me, and that could be anywhere in a two-hundred-mile radius. If you have any good suggestions for summer coffee spots between, say, Delaware and New York, I’d love to hear them. Look for another update in three to four weeks…weather permitting.
Until next time, stay caffeinated.
the outside…
the window seats…
the brews…
the beans…
the tunes…
the sounds…
The Coffeehouse Journey 