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Monthly Archives: December 2025

Christmas Coffee Spectacular 2025!

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to all my caffeinated friends in cyberspace! It’s been a minute since I posted, but that’s because the holiday season was rather unrelenting. It was joyful, no doubt. The preparations and family gatherings were a veritable marathon, though, and the wind is raging outside as I type this. Thankfully, we take peace pretty seriously around here. I unplugged from electronics and cozied up at home with my parents and about a metric ton of my mom’s cooking. Turkey was had, tryptophan was absorbed into the bloodstream, and the outside world was shut out to the point where I’ve been having a hard time readjusting.

It’s the most liminal time of the year.

What do we even call these odd days between Christmas and New Year’s Day? I don’t think it matters. It’s enough that some days just exist. In fact, I needed a few days lost in the fog to figure out what I was going to write here. Travel was out of the question, but my folks came to the rescue with more than just food: They came bearing coffee. Granted, I more than hint to my mom that new coffees are always a good gift idea. It’s good to be a spoiled brat.

So, without further ado, here are this year’s coffee randos from across the world:

First up is Bewley’s Rich Cafe Blend. Something tells me I had a Bewley’s on here last Christmas. It might not have been the rich roast. I suspect it was the dark blend. If it were the rich roast I reviewed last time, I wouldn’t be sorry. I needed to follow up on this one. Bewley’s is a hot beverage company from Ireland established in 1840. With all that experience, you’d think they’d put together a good blend. They do. It is, however, quintessentially British in a few key ways.

The flavor is delicate, almost a whisper. The label says “rich,” but that needs to be taken in context. To me, it was similar to a breakfast blend I had not too long ago in Maryland. It was airy and light. That’s not to say it was threadbare. It wasn’t anything of the sort. The full range of deep flavors one would expect from a medium blend of beans was there. The balance was lovely. The palette was subdued. I had to shovel a few extra spoonfuls into the brewer to bring it up to strength. A travesty to the British, I’m sure, where subtlety is part of the art.

The bag is small, and, really, that’s my only complaint. For the amount I need to use per cup, I need more. Again, though, I think that’s a cultural difference, and my chronic overpouring would probably be seen as garish in the extreme.

Now for something completely different. Siena Arte coffee is (unsurprisingly) based in Siena, Italy. It’s a moderately well-known coffee company, best remembered for its espressos. I received their Napoli roast. I’m honestly not sure what that means. Even odder is the fact that the package reads “Origin: Non-EU.” OK, maybe they’re talking about the beans themselves. Obviously, they have to be sourced from outside the European Union.

Siena Arte was unexpectedly inexpensive. It’s imported, so I’d assumed that would increase the cost tremendously. It also looks fancy, as you can see below. It costs less than the equivalent amount of coffee from Dunkin’ Donuts. I’d wondered if that meant it was secretly Robusta. Robusta is normally used in the making of instant coffee. This didn’t taste like crystals. I forgot to mention, this is a whole-bean offering. It was difficult to even place the taste, except to relate it to a hefty Americano, which is diluted espresso. The bitter core and sharp acidity common to espresso-style coffee were immediately evident.

This was another coffee that I used massive amounts of to achieve a robust flavor. At least there was enough of it to do so! You know what this coffee is good for? Mixing it with another coffee to boost the raw power of a more refined roast. I’ll keep y’all apprised.

There are actually two Brady’s Coffees out there. One is in Tyler, Texas. The other is in Ireland. This is the Ireland one, and it turns everything I originally said about UK coffee on its head. I won’t equivocate here. This was my favorite of all four coffees I’ve sampled for this review. It was gorgeous. Alright, let’s back up for a second.

Brady’s Coffee is a newcomer to the otherwise venerable European coffee scene. It was founded in 2007 in County Wicklow as an artisan roasting company featuring barrel-aged coffee. A barrel-aged coffee is one in which the coffee beans (while still green, mind you) are left to sit for a few weeks in barrels that once contained whiskey or other spirits. Let me just say, that’s a fantastic idea. Old barrels add a bold, rich flavor to wine, and they do the same to coffee beans.

I’m not sure if that was specifically used on Brady’s Signature Blend. They were certainly slow-roasted by hand, and you could taste the care. Sure, Brady’s is a large company, but the artistry is still evident. The mouthfeel was liquid silk, the acidity was ideally balanced, and there was no astringency to speak of. As was the case with the first British coffee, I needed to use a little extra, but the result had a singular distinction. This is a new favorite.

Speaking of favorites, Zimmerman’s is one of my favorite companies. I reviewed a different coffee from them last year. At least, I think it was different. Both were “Rose Garden” coffees, but this one was a 100% pure Guatemalan, unlike the previous one. That featured a proprietary blend of (I think) South American beans.

Zimmerman’s is properly a candy shop. Their flagship store is only a few minutes from my house in the neighborhood of Penbrook, just east of Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. Penbrook used to be called East Harrisburg, but nowadays, it’s a borough of its own. Zimmerman’s has been around since 1915 and has barely changed. John Zimmerman started it. His grandson is continuing it. Stepping into the shop is an immersion in pure Americana.

This coffee was whole bean, and I did it a disservice by not grinding it long enough. It was the archetype of a Guatemalan coffee. There were deep chocolate notes all over the place, overlaid by a subtly leguminous series of flavors. That’s what I wanted when I deliberately picked up the Guatemalan. Once again, Zimmermans gave me exactly what I was looking for.

I’ll be on the road again soon. I mentioned the Poconos, and that’s still the goal, though the Journey might make a quick detour further to the northeast and take a look at what’s happening in the Wilkes-Barre/Scranton area these days. I want to get a good sampling of the Northeast PA (NEPA) region, and there’s way more to NEPA than the Poconos. That’ll be in about three weeks, weather permitting.

Until next time, stay caffeinated!

 
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Posted by on December 29, 2025 in Uncategorized

 

Bason Coffee & More, Danville, PA

Danville.

Everyone in the Susquehanna River Valleys region has heard of Danville. So has everyone in Northeast PA (NEPA). This leaves us with a question: Where is Danville? It’s easy to find Danville on a map. Situating it within Pennsylvania’s cultural tapestry is more difficult. It’s roughly equidistant between Sunbury (a quintessential valley town) and Bloomsburg (clearly a product of northeastern Anthracite country). I’m calling this one for NEPA, but only just. I’ll explain below.

It’s the architecture. Danville has the feel of a coal town. It’s compact, with a defined downtown. Many villages in the valleys and western mountains of Pennsylvania are spread out, organic collections of houses and maybe a church or bar astride a main road. Danville, on the other hand, appears old and established, a place of stone, rather than wood. It reminds me of Pottsville or maybe Orwigsburg; both lie to the south, but the resemblance is uncanny.

Bison Coffee & More fits perfectly within the context of this town, artistically and as an institution. I must confess, I read the name as “Bison” and “Basin.” The word “Bason” doesn’t really work in my brain. I forgot to ask where the name “Bason” came from, because my journalistic skill evaporates after a few hours on the road. Their website revealed no answers, but gave insight into how Bason began.

Bason isn’t just a coffeehouse; it’s a roasting company. They specialize in small batch roasts, so if you haven’t heard of them, I’m not surprised. I hadn’t heard of them, either, which is odd given that they’ve been in business since 2011. Apparently, it all started with a conversation between the owners and a pastor who was passionate about coffee. That’s according to the website. I was told that the coffeehouse itself has only been open in this location for three years.

By the way, Bason is being modest. The addition of “& more” to their name is an understatement. The place is filled with knick-knacks, foodstuffs, and a vast array of local products. I saw the honey and ran directly to it. The honey deserves a review of its own. The taste of honey is a product of terroir every bit as much as wine is, and it’s a sum of the vagaries of life and growth, the way coffee is. The cafe was filled with arts and crafts, too, as well as cozy nooks. There was a calm here that warmed me after a long drive.

I ordered a typical roast called Farmhouse Blend. What a contrast it made to the coffee I had in Bloomsburg! Not in quality, but in character. Whereas the former was dense and dark, this blend was like a mouthful of breezy air. The package said, surprisingly, that this was a medium roast with a bit of dark added. It also advertised the roast as a breakfast blend. The latter description is more apt. There was barely a hint of astringency; only a general lightness pervaded the body of the product. A nuttiness of sorts manifested, but it was positively blithe, not earthy. The fact that they were able to do this with a medium roast speaks to a high level of care and sophistication from the roasters and brewers, likely due to a strong coordination between the two groups.

It’s odd in retrospect that I never visited Danville before. I’ve heard the name of the town all my life; my parents went to games here when they were in high school, and it’s mentioned in the context of everywhere else you might want to go around here. “Near Danville” is a phrase you’ll hear a lot. That means I’ll probably return, as I intend to explore this region further.

So, why did I pick Danville instead of finding another coffeehouse in or near Bloomsburg? It has to do with what I said beforehand about Danville seeming like a NEPA town. That comparison only goes so far. The architecture of Danville made that statement, but the town’s lifeways felt like a distinct offshoot of the rural sensibilities we’ve seen throughout the Valleys region and west in the mountains. Despite its proximity to Bloomsburg, Danville gave off a working-class vibe. Here’s another good example:

The Bason website makes it clear that coffee is the second priority for the owners. The first being Jesus. That would have been a bit surprising in Bloomsburg. Indeed, as I walked around Bloomsburg, I noticed a cultural consensus. The coffeehouses there were self-consciously postmodern, incredibly contemporary. Almost certainly the product of Bloomsburg being a college town, the shared cultural conceits nonetheless presented a challenge. If the coffee culture in Bloomsburg shares a zeitgeist, how distinct will the next shop be, even if it’s fantastic? I had to move on.

I’m glad I took that extra little jaunt back towards the Susquehanna River. Bason Coffee was distinct. Sure, there’s a ‘sameness’ to rurality, especially today. As much as postmodern liberalism has ossified and homogenized, rural culture has responded in kind, both sides defining themselves by what they are not. ‘Country’ culture sometimes achieves its own pastiche, almost camp value. That wasn’t the case here.

Not at all.

Bason didn’t lay a modern aesthetic atop a traditionalist spirit, nor did it lean into kitsch. We’ve seen that before, and although these approaches have obvious merit, Bason was a unique expression in its own right by being neither. It was just a coffeehouse. A classy place to congregate and commiserate. It didn’t wear its faith on its sleeve, unlike many others. The space was filled (to the brim, even) yet understated, sort of like a cottage in the woods (or the Hallmark Channel). If cottages were caffeinated, that is.

Here at The Coffeehouse Journey, we think that’s just how cottages ought to be.

I’m off to find a few more of those caffeinated cottages. I plan to move on to a more cosmopolitan place: The Poconos. Either that, or Scranton. Hey, if Dunder Mifflin calls it home, it’s worth a visit. Hopefully, Jim Thorpe will be on the list of places to visit on or right after Christmas/Yule/Solstice. If anyone has a suggestion regarding coffee culture in the far northeast of Pennsylvania, give a holler.

Until next time, stay caffeinated.

 

the street…

the town…

the church…

the edifice…

the entrance…

the stuff…

the seating…

the nook…

the machine…

 

 
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Posted by on December 6, 2025 in Uncategorized