Author Archives: coffeehouseguy80

Do you get the feeling that I’ve reviewed this coffeehouse before? So did I. There’s a good reason for that.  As was alluded to in the previous post, we’re back in the mountains. To South Mountain, in fact. Yes, we’ve been there before. If you’ve been reading this blog for the past two years, South Mountain has been a perennial focus. That’s because it’s recently become rich with coffee culture. It shouldn’t be surprising. South Mountain is home to a massive state park and is, therefore, an epicenter of outdoor culture.

Bikers, hikers, mountaineers, and survivalists are all fueled by coffee (at least a lot of them are), and there’s a massive crossover between coffee culture and small-town civic pride. Coffeehouses are a symbol of sophistication and civil society as a whole. They have been since the 1600s. Coffeehouses were the crucible of Enlightenment philosophical thought and thus of modernity as a concept. Wherever there’s a small town aiming at revival, a coffeehouse likely serves as an anchor point of that cultural resurgence.

No specific small town is home to Deja Brew. Miney Branch is a stream in Liberty Township, PA. It’s in the Carroll Valley, home to Liberty Mountain Resort, several lakes, and many Appalachian Trail hikers, especially in May and June. The tiny village of Zora is nearby, but the closest small town is Emmitsburg, Maryland. You almost have to drive through Emmitsburg to make good time. Emmitsburg is fascinating; it’s a small, historic town, but one beset by traffic. I pulled off the road into a parking spot and got beeped at for daring to open my door, as pickup trucks and 18-wheelers whizzed past me down the main drag.

Getting out of Emmitsburg, one heads directly towards South Mountain. Deja Brew sits at the mountain’s base on Route 16, offering easy access to hikers and other travelers. Although this cafe didn’t seem to be a component of any particular town, it did appear to be a fixture in the lives of everyone populating the region. I was the only person in the Cafe that day who didn’t know the owner or the barista. As I looked out the window at the crossroads of Route 16 and the road to Liberty Mountain, it struck me just how central this particular intersection is. Even so, Deja Brew is a new phenomenon. It opened on November 11th, 2023.

The architecture of Deja Brew touched on a theme I’ve seen repeated elsewhere: the juxtaposition of a very modern, streamlined interior with distinctly backcountry surroundings. Brown and cream walls gave the building a look of cultivated elegance slightly at odds with the down-home exterior. Again, there’s a juxtaposition, but not an unexpected one. Those walls bore posters of local hiking events…and a Biblical performance. There was a well-stocked bookshelf…featuring philosophical and historical pieces from a libertarian press. Deja Brew sells coffee…and local beef jerky. As we’ve often found, the seamless integration of rural and urban institutions is a facet of PA’s coffee revival.

The coffee was so fascinating. Yes, I mean a good fascinating. I heard a name I haven’t for far too long: Ragged Edge Coffee. That’s a coffeehouse and roaster in nearby Gettysburg. I remember going to Ragged Edge 20 years ago when I was in college. There was a poetry reading there, and it was evident that this was a center of Gettysburg’s ‘bohemia’ back then. It’s a great local roaster, and several of their offerings were on display here. Those are pictured below, but I don’t think the full extent of the selection was displayed. Leaving a little mystery is classy.

I had the Honduran. Honduran coffees have a reputation for depth and character. Although Honduran coffees are commonly lush and nutty like Guatemalan roasts, there’s a special nuance to the Honduran. The rich nut flavor wasn’t as prominent as expected, but the complexity certainly was. If this was a breakfast coffee, it was a sturdy, full-bodied example of one. If it was a stronger concoction, that power was mellowed with a dialed-back acidity. This is the kind of coffee you’ll probably want accompanying you on a hike, should you experience a desire to explore those nearby mountain ridgelines.

I already have the next target in mind: a new branding of a cafe I visited years before during a tumultuous time. It’s up an entirely different set of mountains but on the same side of the Susquehanna River. I have no clue what I’ll find or what changes have been made. I’m not even looking at Google Maps to get a hint of what to expect. That would dampen the fun a bit, don’t you think? Until then, stay caffeinated!

emmitsburg…

the sign…

the edifice…

the main room…

the seating…

the sentiment…

the supply…

books are good…

the mountain looms…

Finally: After a complete breakdown of the plumbing at the house, dodging rainstorms to plant the vegetables in our garden, helping my parents with things, and dealing with $600 worth of car repairs, I’m finally back on the road on the hunt for coffee. Dealing with those things obviously required a ton of coffee in and of themselves, but that’s different. Not only because it was big-name-brand coffee, but because I was stuck enjoying it in my room. It’s my blog, and I can whine if I want to, whine if I want to, whiiiiine if I want to…

OK, let’s be optimistic for a minute. Coffee at home certainly has its own pleasures. Sure, this is The Coffeehouse Journey, but just as one can take a journey by reading a book in the solitude of their bathtub, can’t a coffee journey be taken home as well? In the same vein of thought, wonderful things can often be found in the most unexpected places. Setting out to accomplish one goal is no guarantee that you won’t fulfill another instead. These two ideas came together splendidly last weekend as I set out for Hershey ArtFest.

Spring and summer are festival seasons, collectively speaking. In Pennsylvania, festivals normally consist of three basic offerings: Music, food trucks, and beer (or wine). Festivals with only one are practically unknown and doomed to failure, while those with only two often feel like they’re missing something. Coffee is rarely on anyone’s radar, though coffee trucks do show up at the occasional fest (as we’ve seen before). I didn’t expect ArtFest to be one of those. The focus here was definitely on art. I saw phrases like “juried exhibition.” Tchotchkes and oddities abounded. Local authors had tents of their own. There was beer and music, though, too. After two hours, I was sunburned, satisfied, and on my way back to my car. That’s when I saw it: the Pronio’s tent.

Apparently, Pronio’s is an Italian restaurant native to Hershey, PA. By “native,” I mean they’ve been there since 1914. I’d never heard of them until today. What a tragedy, especially since they have proprietary tomato sauce! Confession: I’m always looking for new Italian sauces to experiment with. I was equally shocked when they told me they had a proprietary coffee roast. Who would have thought? After passing about a hundred tents selling niche knickknacks I had every desire (and zero intention) to buy, the last five minutes of my festival experience revealed my favorite part of it. I had to wait until I got home to brew the coffee, but it was well worth the wait.

The flavor palate of the coffee definitely had a rich and nutty quality. I picked up hints of almonds and possibly pecans. Lo and behold, the back of the coffee bag (pictured below) name-dropped Guatemala, Brazil, and Costa Rica as bean sources. Pronio’s pride themselves on sourcing straight from family-run farms. The degree of care they take showed quickly in the savory characteristics displayed in this particular blend  The coffee is no longer roasted on-site by Pronio’s, but they have partnered with Kitty Town Coffee of nearby Lebanon, PA. I’ll have to visit the brick-and-mortar Pronio’s and Kitty Town. I’m sure this is only the beginning.

Next time, I’ll be traveling a bit farther afield. The Pennsylvania Wilds may have to wait until this coming autumn, or at least until later this summer. New coffee spots are popping up in the South Mountain area, especially along the 11/15 corridor. Hiking culture is big here. Festival culture is, too. This region is where the monumental Apple Harvest Festival happens in October every year. Until next time, stay caffeinated.

the tunes…

the tents…

the ambiance…

the coffee…

Spoiler alert: I peed in line.

Let’s dial it back a few hours. Today’s leg of the Journey has been in the works for a very, very long time. It represents the culmination of the Alleghenies portion that began months ago, exploring the heart of rural coffee culture in Pennsylvania. During that time, there were several side trips into other mountains in pursuit of a full picture of those lifeways. Now, we’re headed into the town of Mount Union, located on the Mifflin and Huntington Counties border. When people talk about the ‘countryside,’ this is it. The mountains look hairy with trees, and the fields of one farm touch those of the next in a patchwork quilt of life.

I needed this trip. Once again, this area of Pennsylvania saw a precious two-day break in the bonkers March weather, and I decided to make the most of it. Driving on Route 22 and Route 522 is an interesting experience. One could easily think these roads don’t go to places but through them. Everything on the way is geared to the traveler, with pull-off areas every few miles and plenty of food and gas options. It’s like the Turnpike if the Turnpike weren’t manic insanity. These roads are calm and endless. Liminal in the extreme.

When I found The Roast Post on Google, it seemed like a normal coffee stop on a normal stretch of road in a normal town. Wrong on all three counts. Roast Post is anything but normal. Let’s break it down: First, The Roast Post is a literal post. The coffee shop is a drive-thru trading post with a touch of outdoor seating for especially weary travelers. Second, this place is popular in the extreme. Locals are quite vocal about their love of coffee and cherish what appears to be the only source of coffee within ten miles. Their Google rating, after 149 votes, remains five stars. Lastly, the owners of Roast Post take their craft even more seriously than the customers do. The coffee is an unlabeled proprietary roast held to stringent standards.

Oh, and the lines to get coffee are a phenomenon. As you can see below, I was stuck in a veritable traffic jam. This segues to my one complaint about Roast Post: no restrooms. And so, I grabbed an empty bottle, and the rest was yellow history. I had plenty of time. People in front of me were ordering carloads of expensive and complicated victuals. I opted for something simple. There was a combination of nutty and smoky flavors on the bouquet. The mouthfeel was milky-smooth. Oddly, the smoky notes didn’t stick around. The subtle nut taste was there and pleasant. I don’t know the provenance of the beans, but they presented like a South American would. Acidity was low; the lowest I’ve tasted in a while. This coffee can be quaffed ad infinitum.

Mount Union (the town) was quietly awesome (emphasis on the quiet). The real standout here was the temperament of the townsfolk. Everyone was nice. The main drag was a small collection of old-fashioned buildings containing a few normal shops (a pizza place, a church, or two) and a few standouts like Jaedylans Antiques Glass, a soon-to-open antique shop filled with glassworks from the 19th Century through early 20th. As a fan of the Art Deco movement, I couldn’t resist.

Something interesting was mentioned here: East Broad Top Railroad. Apparently, during the summer they have the train running. I’m willing to bet that many fun folk events happen at that train station. As a verified expert, I say with authority that train stations are great places for beer festivals. Alright, I say that as someone who had a beer at a train station before. Anyhow.

I couldn’t come all this way without visiting a local hiking hotspot: the Thousand Steps Trail. Reinvigorated by the coffee, I grabbed my EDC (everyday carry; that’s a “prepper” term for the small collection of important survival tools you should carry on your person consistently) and began climbing. I didn’t get far before the fatigue of driving a hundred miles on 5 hours of sleep caught up with me. I did get to the headwaters of a small waterfall. It poured from a ruined brick edifice upon whose purpose I can only guess.

So began the long trip home. I savored every moment I had left in these mountains. I said at the beginning that this was the culmination of the Allegheny Journey. I’m not sure of that anymore. While in Mount Union, I was pointed toward the towns of Huntington and Orbisonia. These locals really do love their coffee. I want to head north into the Pennsylvania Wilds region soon, but at this rate, it might have to wait until fall. In terms of coffee, these mountains are getting bigger by the day. Until next time, stay caffeinated.

the road…

the ridge…

the welcome…

the post…

the mystery beans…

the mission…

the blue sky…

the main street…

the domes…

the thousand steps…

the spring…

the waterfall…

If you live in Pennsylvania, when the weather gives you a chance, you take it. During a break between storms, when the wind had finally abated, I decided to head to Port Clinton, PA. Port Clinton is an Appalachian trail town in eastern Pennsylvania, about an hour from Harrisburg. However, the coffeehouse I’m reviewing today was not in Port Clinton, but in a town less than a mile away called Hamburg. Hamburg is far larger, yet it is somewhat less known among the hiking community. Thus, I first visited Hamburg before venturing into the mountain ridge where Port Clinton sits nestled.

Four Twelve sits in the very heart of Hamburg. But what, I wondered, does “Four Twelve” refer to? As it turns out, the moniker refers to Acts 4:12, a passage in the Bible. If you’re a longtime reader, you know I don’t normally review religious coffeehouses. I take the position that coffeehouses are fundamentally an Enlightenment-era institution steeped in modernity and its pursuit of ideological neutrality and the triumph of objective truth over worldview. I obviously still hold that position. Four Twelve is linked to a church, but the owners wear their faith on their sleeves far less than those managing the ostensibly secular coffeehouses I’ve recently reviewed.

Said another way, these people seem more intent on living out their faith than insisting on it. Our freedom of speech, like all freedoms, is sacrosanct not because it is unlimited, but because it bears a concurrent responsibility. Thus, a message delivered artfully and tactfully is one I can respect, even if I disagree with it. Plenty of ‘progressive’ coffeehouses cross the line from art to grandstanding. Civil and artful folk from both sides of the aisle share more in common than grandstanders on either side. The quiet faith of the baristas here illustrates this point to perfection. Oh, and the coffee’s good, too.

The coffee is also local. Passenger Coffee Roasters hails from Lancaster. That’s far enough from Bethel, but familiar to those who venture southeast of the Capital in search of a cup of coffee. They’ve only been around since the spring of 2014, but in that brief ten years, they’ve carved out major territory in the Pennsylvania coffee scene. Part of it is likely due to a vocal commitment to building partnerships and sustainable coffee storage techniques.

The barista gave me a cup of Passenger’s ‘Necessary Blend.’ ‘Necessary’ is apparently a subsidiary company of Passenger (a step that magnifies their ability to focus on specific customer bases). Was the coffee tasty? Oh, yes. Was it also a bit confusing? Also, yes. On the one hand, Necessary Blend was totally African. Conversely, it was advertised as having ‘chocolate’ and ‘brown sugar’ notes. I could taste neither of those. Instead, Necessary Blend presented itself as a classic African roast, with the citrus hints and lightness that one would expect.

It’s worth noting that the barista did a good job here. Not only did she brew me a fresh pot when they were running low, but she also managed to mitigate some of the more bracing citrus strength for which some African coffee is famous. She made it smoother than it otherwise would have been. Fun fact: Ethiopian Yirgacheffe gets its fruit-forward flavors from the dry processing techniques unique to Ethiopia. But I digress. Overall, this was a lighter offering, suitable for breakfast on the go. The residents of Hamburg often seem to be on the move.

And so, with a belly full of caffeine, I was on my way into the forested hills toward Port Clinton. On the way out, I heard a townsperson yelling at me. It turns out, I left my coffee on the roof, remaining upright as I drove down the street. I might not be too religious, but I know a miracle when I see it. It’s worth mentioning that Hamburg is a bustling town. Port Clinton is not. That surprised me. Most “trail towns” have hiker-driven amenities like outdoor supply stores.

Port Clinton seems similar to most Appalachian hollers: A winding line of houses and family restaurants, tucked between mountain ridgelines. Still, it had a bizarre appeal. Port Clinton looked like one of those abandoned towns in The Walking Dead. That’s a compliment. Looking down from a bridge into the creek that winds through the town, I caught sight of a brick building in the distance. The fog along the river created a liminal quality as if I could just keep walking forever. I like taking those ambling walks in the woods. This town looks caught between humanity and nature. That’s the kind of place my soul needs sometimes. Does yours?

The Appalachian Trail is surprisingly difficult to access in Port Clinton, requiring either a climb down a very sheer (and wet!) hillside or guessing whether (or not) the place you park is private property. There’s also the matter of the large and busy highway bisecting the trail line! After all that driving, I decided not to chance a hike. What a bummer. Had the ground not been so wet, I’d have slid down that hillside and onto the southbound trail. Next time, I’ll start somewhere else and walk into Port Clinton. Undoubtedly, the tavern along the main drag will feel very inviting afterward.

Thus ends this leg of the Journey. Hopefully, I can dodge the weather again and head north or northwest. This week’s beautiful weather should melt the last winter snow up there. Until then, stay caffeinated!

hamburg…

the storefront…

the nook…

the time…

the company…

the brew…

the ridgeline…

port clinton…

the downtown…

the misty water…

The mountains continue. So does my car, thankfully. My trip to Caledonia Cafe continues the theme I’ve been doing for the past few months. Namely, focusing on rural coffeehouses springing up in the Appalachian Mountains. Appropriately, Caledonia Cafe is a stone’s throw from the Appalachian Trail entry point at the top of South Mountain. Yep, I’m back on South Mountain. You might remember another cafe or two that I reviewed in this region. South Mountain is crisscrossed by several roads along its winding ridgeline, and each of them is a world unto itself with its own attractions.

Caledonia Cafe is quite an attraction. It’s near the top of the ridge along Route 30. Mr. Ed’s Elephant Museum and Candy Emporium is a few hundred yards away, which should give you some idea as to the character of the area. Oddities, subcultures, and folkways abound up here in the backcountry. That is, of course, why I come to the backcountry. I’m definitely one of the oddities. Even so, nothing could prepare me for the sights I’d see inside the Caledonia Cafe.

Bear in mind, I’d had no idea this place existed. That’s probably because I’m not part of the culture that the cafe caters specifically to: The fiber arts community. Antique sewing machines grace the walls of the cafe’s main seating area. A gigantic selection of cloth and lines of state-of-the-art sewing machines illuminated with uplighting grace the center of the fabric room. Those can be rented. This venue is clearly a haven for local knitters, sewing enthusiasts, and crochet fanatics. Oh yes, there are many. You only have to witness the Sheep-To-Shawl competition at the Farm Show in Harrisburg to see how intense this world gets.

But what about the coffee? The coffee portion of this establishment is actually pretty new. The business as a whole has been a fixture for decades, but it only became a caffeination station two years ago. Yes, the proprietors mirrored the timing trend of the Amish coffee boom. No, they don’t appear to be Amish (though appearances can be deceiving). The woman running the coffeehouse portion told me it was part of a conscious effort to expand the scope of the business to create a place for the significant others of the fiber arts folks to congregate while their partner was engaged in the sewing section. An excellent plan! I’m in a niche, and I recognize the need for those outside said niche to be provided with alternative activities.

The brew itself was completely unfamiliar. I’ve never encountered San Francisco Bay coffee. I don’t even remember it being a thing when I visited Cambria near Frisco although, to be fair, that was a good 25 years ago. The woman at the counter gave me the current house roast, a French roast. It was a mix of Central and South American beans and was advertised as a dark roast. I would have gauged it as a medium, and the smoky finish wasn’t too evident. What I did notice was a strong and savory nut flavor. The last coffee of this sort that I tried had a very buttery mouthfeel, but this was sharper, possibly evident of a higher acidity. The flavor was very focused but also well done, so I deeply enjoyed it.

As of mid-February, when I visited, there was still a ton of snow on the ground up in the mountains. Even so, I took a short hike in nearby Caledonia State Park before sunset. Several powerful storms had by that time just buffeted Pennsylvania, and buzzsaw operators were hard at work clearing debris from the trail. Downed trees and warning signs blocked my path in several places. It was still gorgeous and a stark reminder that I savor traveling to these areas. The next entry will bring more mountains, as we sort of spiral outward into Appalachia. Until then, stay caffeinated.

the signage…

the art…

the cozy interior…

the sewing machines…

that’s not all…

fiber arts or fibre arts…

the beans…

the mountains…

And yet, I smile. That’s what King Ezekiel said in The Walking Dead. Life kept pouring down obstacles upon him, but he kept smiling. I wish I could be like Ezekiel. It’s been a month. First, my tire light came on. Then, I had to drop out of my graduate classes at Penn State (because Penn State has a certain kind of bureaucracy which I shall not risk defaming upon this humble blog for fear of a certain bureaucracy taking issue). Next, the check engine light came on. Now, a tooth needs to be removed (so say the experts), and my insurance is of typical American quality. That is to say, it ain’t good. Positivity isn’t really my jam, so instead of smiling through all of this, I’m simply going to caffeinate and run away. Run with me.

One boon of city life is that coffee can often be found in unexpected places (and also close ones). Such was the case with the local international grocer right down the street. It’s within walking distance. Even so, I didn’t know the place at all. I certainly didn’t realize they had exotic coffee from the Middle East among their wares. To wit: I hadn’t gone in looking for coffee. I was seeking Indian spices, only to find that the store had an Islamic Halal food focus.

The fact remains that the Middle East is the homeland of coffee. Sufi monasteries in Yemen used coffee in the 1400s to help devotees stay awake during grueling religious services. One can imagine that European monks wished they’d had a similar crutch for their beleaguered intellects. As it stands, scholars think that the first coffeehouse in Europe was opened in 1632 in Livorno.

The coffee I got was Egyptian, though the company was apparently founded in Lebanon around 40 years ago. The company was called Cafe Najjar…a word that means ‘carpenter’ in Arabic. I had no idea what to expect. I should have expected it to be broadly similar to Turkish coffee. It very much was. For those who don’t know, Turkish coffee differs from what we experience in the West. However, if you’ve been to the Greek festival here, you’ve probably had it. Turkish coffee is ground very fine, left unfiltered, and placed directly in a tin (called a cezve in Turkey and an ibrik elsewhere) over an open flame. The coffee is mixed with water and sugar in the tin and then drunk straight. A porcelain cup is used by purists.

I must admit that I didn’t do what I was supposed to. I lost my ibrik (yes, I have one). As such, I made this coffee the Western way, in a coffee maker. It was still good, but be warned: This will not taste like the coffee you’re undoubtedly used to. There was an astringent aftertaste to it. That might not be the right word. Rather, I might say there was a strange tang; the flavor was almost sanguine (I know, eww). However, if you don’t include that aftertaste in considering the palette, the overall effect is one of power. It’s high-test coffee, though in a way that reminds me of a strong black tea. Vegetal: That’s the descriptor I was aiming for. Next time, I’ll be making it the proper way. I’m sure that subtracted from the fullness of the flavor.

I need a trip to the mountains. Fortunately, there are plenty. As the weather warms, I (hopefully) plan to head into the Pennsylvania Wilds region. The car just left the shop a few days ago, and I’m looking forward to heading out into the woods and small towns of hilly Appalachia again (after a test drive, of course). I ask only that you pray that my problematic tooth falls out painlessly in the middle of the night. That would save me a lot of money. Until February, stay caffeinated!

the exterior…

liminal…

coffee land…

the brew in question…

It’s the most liminal time of the year. The days between Christmas and New Year’s Day seem to be between times. We really don’t know quite what to do with these particular days. One constant in my life during these times is the need for coffee. What was left under the tree for me this year was a treasure trove of beany goodness. Exactly how those beans arrived is a circuitous tale (and is the subject of this post). My car was a bit…persnickety…so I was doubly grateful that the coffee came to me this time. Without further ado, here are four new varieties for your vicarious perusal:

Bewley’s Rich Cafe Blend

Bewley’s is a venerable tea and coffee company. It’s just not known well here in America. I believe I reviewed one of their blends last year. A small Celtic specialty shop near where I live carries products made throughout the British Isles. The one I received this year (shown below perched upon my mom’s stainless steel countertop) was their Rich Cafe Blend. Bewley’s is a fantastic standby. It’s a good coffee when you want something solid, as it lived up to the designation ‘rich.’ I feel like there was a Latin American component here; whatever the case, it was savory without being too dense. Bewley’s is a major company, so I expect that theirs is the Irish equivalent of big-name coffees here. If so, British offices are lucky to have this solid offering as a go-to.

Dark Canyon Coffee Company: Highlander Grogg

On the other hand, there is a rich roast out there that is incredibly dense: That would be Highlander Grogg from Dark Canyon Coffee Company in Rapid City, South Dakota. A family friend sent this after moving from Wyoming to work in Rapid City. I’ve never been there, so I had no idea what to expect regarding coffee culture. I must admit, I’d stereotyped the situation. South Dakota isn’t the place you think of when you imagine hipsters, hippies, and the boutique coffee that tends to arrive with them. Oh, how wrong I was. Dark Canyon is apparently another sizable outfit, but you wouldn’t know it from their very Western brick-and-mortar store. If that’s indicative of life in Grand Rapids these days, I might just have to make a visit.

Highlander Grogg epitomized the idea of the “dark roast.” It’s thick, rich, almost syrupy. The friend who sent it says it’s the regular coffee at her office. Believe me when I say it would be the coffee equivalent of having daily ice cream. Fantastic in theory, but in practice, it’s a bit too rich for my blood. Don’t get me wrong, there’s no problem with the coffee. In fact, I’d call it an ideal dessert coffee. Yes, I’ve coined a phrase there. This brew is what I’d term ‘situational.’ Have it as a treat, not a standard.

Cafe De La Seine En Grain

The French penchant for the delicate was on full display with this offering. Another stereotype, I know, but French cuisine typically displays gentle touches and deft flavor applications. Such was the case here. In truth, it was impossible to remove that quality. When a roast is very airy and light, I usually attempt to give it more backbone by putting extra grounds in the machine. That tactic didn’t work here. The roast remained ethereal. I couldn’t discern the provenance of the beans, but there wasn’t a hint of citrus, so Africa isn’t likely. I love a good mystery.

As an aside, I often talk about how impressive it is that the Amish coffee scene emerged from several years of national hardship. This French coffee operation began in 1945. I can only imagine the flood of emotions going through these newly liberated people. Did the process of creating the coffee and building the business help to put the trauma of war in the past? One can hardly imagine France without thinking of sidewalk cafes. Cafes in which people are free to think. Again, coffee proves itself to be far more than a beverage.

Great Lakes Coffee Roasters: Taste Of Italy, Almond Biscotti

Truth in advertising. Drinking this coffee was like downing a liquid biscotti. That’s not a criticism nor a compliment, just an honest impression. The taste of Italy that we got here was actually pretty smooth. Great Lakes Coffee Roasters, as it turns out, is relatively close by (in New York), near Lake Erie. New York has a large Italian population, so it makes sense that they’d do an Italian coffee. They say they specialize in roasting small batches, so it’s not surprising that I didn’t actually know them despite their being a known quantity. Here’s another good dessert option, by the way. Almond Biscotti is not a flavor I’d pick for daily drinking, but plenty of options exist. The coffee is very flavor-forward, but that only means you have to find something to pair the flavor profile with. I would suggest chocolate.

A bit of good news to conclude with: My road-trip-mobile isn’t as damaged as I thought it was. I feared the worst because my tire light came on a few weeks ago. State Inspection Day loomed like Ragnarok. Fortunately, the repairs only cost about $160, meaning I’m good to go for more road trips. Oh, and another bit of good cheer: I just got accepted into the graduate program at Penn State. I’ll be studying History. At least I don’t have to travel far for school…Penn State Middletown is right down the road and is the institutional hub of historical studies. Don’t worry; I’ll find plenty of time to sneak off for more coffee adventures. Until then, stay caffeinated, and have a happy holiday!.

It’s interesting how sometimes misadventure can lead to adventure and then to misadventure and back again. Such was my trip northward to Hometowne Cafe in Herndon, Pennsylvania. Everyone in the Central PA microverse has heard of Herndon, but few others have. It lies just barely across the northern border of Dauphin County in neighboring Northumberland. Like most of these small Pennsylvania towns, food is the major industry and few big events take place. One or two main streets and a civil building or two define the aging yet cozy downtown. Herndon, you see, has yet to be gentrified, despite its proximity to the capital region. As such, it’s kept most of its character from Pennsylvania coal days. I managed to find one fascinating exception.

Hometowne Cafe is situated right at the intersection of two main roads, one of them being the venerable Route 147. There was even a band called “Take 147” that graced many a barroom stage back in the day. The coffeehouse is also seated upon an intersection you’ve probably noticed several times in recent posts: the meeting of agrarian tradition and modernity. Hometowne is yet another coffee spot run by Amish/Mennonite folk. In other words, the revolution in rural coffee continues unabated.

The cafe opened during the same time frame as many of the others, too. This May, it will have been two years since the owners took the leap and created this little bistro. Interestingly, I noticed the exact same juxtaposition of rural custom and urban culture present in many of the other establishments. There were the standard coffeehouse trappings of streamlined architecture and cozy seating. Signs in cursive were there, as well. Some of them, however, were Bible verses, and the baristas were modestly adorned and unfailingly polite. In all of these explorations, it’s been rare to find an operation that indulged in ‘country’ kitsch. This one certainly didn’t. A lack of kitsch and camp implies an earnestness within the scene. That’s a green flag.

Notable aside: The cafe itself is located within a shared zone. They rent the space in which their kiosk, drive-thru, and internal cafe seating rest. A grocery company called Ridgeview Foods owns the surrounding edifice which is a massive grocery store. There’s an emphasis on fresh foods here. Fresh vegetables lined one wall and there was an abundance of preserved meat in home-packaged bags. None of this is surprising in Northumberland County. It’s why I come to Northumberland County.

I can’t really describe the coffee itself as ‘unremarkable,’ even though I didn’t mentally remark upon it as I took that first swig. I would, instead, say that it was difficult to take the measure of. It was a breakfast blend, and I rarely drink those. A bit too light for my liking. That said, I gave the drink a second swig, and that’s when the nice little nutty flavor in the background came out to play. In retrospect, any darker and the blend might have been cloying. It really was fine breakfast fare. I really need to try one of those darker, denser offerings, though! Where exactly this brew originated proved something of a mystery. Nobody who worked there seemed to know. It’s clearly proprietary since the Hometowne Cafe label was affixed to the front. It must be a pretty tight secret. Who can blame them for keeping a few of those; after all, as we’ve seen, the rural coffee scene is getting competitive.

On the way home is where the misadventure happened. Well, okay, the misadventure started when I wasn’t able to attend a family event (mapping the route was how I noticed this cafe in the first place). The misadventure did, however, escalate as soon as I got back on the road back to Harrisburg. The last photo you’ll see below was taken from the parking lot of the fire company. After taking that pic, I started up my car and noticed the check engine light was on. Uh oh. I figured I’d get as many miles in as I could before the engine gave out. It never gave out. Somehow, the thing survived the trip through the rolling terrain. I thank God, the gods, and maybe an ancestor or two for bringing me home without incident. Someone was looking out for me.

There were a lot of fascinating sights to see up on these hills, though, both coming and going. Hence, a warning. This post is pretty photo-heavy. Scroll at your leisure. The car is misbehaving again obviously, so I’m not sure if I’ll be able to make my oft-teased foray into Huntingdon County until after the holidays. We are going there soon, though, rest assured of that. Until next time, stay caffeinated.

the surrounds…

rocky ridges…

the cafe…

the shared spaces…

the inside…

the shared sentiment…

the voluminous menu…

the liminal space…

the beans…

the town of herndon…

I’ll just say this: September was insane. It feels like hubris to make this post because it’s fun, and I feel like I shouldn’t try fun yet, lest something terrible happen to balance the scales. Fear of stepping out of line, I mean. I get in a bad headspace that way. If this seems like rambling, my brain is a little sparky right now. I told the people at these coffee spots I’d blog about them, so I need to keep my word on that. Simply put, I’m alive, so I have that going for me, which is great. It’s been that kind of month.

Leaving the city behind for a while felt like breathing. That isn’t far from objective truth, given the air pollution that gathers in the Great Valley region of Pennsylvania at the end of summer. The mountain air is of a distinctively higher quality. In the process of going crazy and fleeing to the woods, I ended up going to two standout coffee spots, which I’ll detail below.

The first of these new coffee spots was Joe’s Chili Stop, located along Route 34 on the way to Mount Holly Springs. Mount Holly Springs marks one of the entry points to South Mountain. South Mountain is a significant entry point to the Appalachian Trail. If the name sounds familiar, I reviewed another coffeehouse here a few months ago, across the Maryland border.

Joe’s is a veteran-owned breakfast spot that bears all the hallmarks of a “last stop.” The infrastructure is ramshackle. The food smells like a bit of heaven. The locals are rural mountain men heading off to parts unknown. I immediately felt glad to be here, and I’m sure everyone taking 34 over the mountain feels the same. If only there was alcohol, it would be the consummate cantina. As it stands, there were uppers, rather than downers, on the menu. Here’s where things get really interesting.

The coffee was Hugh Jackman’s proprietary blend: Laughing Man. I do not know why this blend is being sold in the middle of Pennsylvania mountain country, but here it is. I am of two minds about this coffee. First, the brewing was done well by Joe’s staff. It was high-test stuff, too, ideal for a long hike. However, the flavor profile was unremarkable, and this quality appeared innate. It didn’t taste bad by any stretch…it was simply an average blend with an origin I couldn’t pin down. It tasted like diner fare. I will say this much: I am convinced that the high quality of my caffeination was due to the establishment’s efforts rather than Mr. Jackman’s.

Finding the next coffeehouse was the result of a totally distinct mission. My mom and I went north to visit a winery. We assumed that the winery would be open in the middle of a weekday. Nope. After an hour-long drive, we were greeted by closed doors and a dark room. Not ready to admit defeat, we continued searching for an open winery and found one to the south outside Berrysburg in the ridges and valleys of northern Dauphin County. We found something else: A coffee shop set to open two days hence.

I had no idea what to expect here. The shuttered barn did not indicate what kind of coffee shop I’d be walking into when it opened. At the end of the week, though, I returned and found what is set to be a local hotspot. Bear in mind that there are few coffee options in northern Dauphin. Do a Google search, and you’ll come up with little except for family restaurants. Nearby, Elizabethville has a brewery…but no independent coffee shop. Espresso Inspired is changing that. They’re also clearly an Amish/Mennonite operation.

Here’s another example of Amish coffeesmiths (yes, I coined a word) doing things right. I peeked inside the little mobile barn doubling as a coffee shop (you can’t actually go inside; it’s walk-up and drive-thru only) and saw Bible quotes on one wall and high-tech gadgetry taking up the other side and back. The baristas, having just started their work two days ago, were shy but efficient. The big surprise was the menu. Not only was a wide variety of coffee available, but plenty of breakfast fare, such as muffins, was also pumped out of that tiny hut.

As for the coffee, the exact blend is something I can only guess. The brand was Turk’s Head out of West Chester. Another significant link between coffee operations in Pennsylvania. This isn’t the first time I’ve found Mennonite folk sourcing locally. Notice how the rural coffeemakers sourced their material from urban institutions? It’s only fitting given that most ‘urban’ food is sourced from fundamentally rural regions. Coffee culture is again blending the two worlds, though this time in a material sense. It does bear mentioning that the iconography of this coffee shop also combines urban hipness with traditional Christian values.

In brief, thank my mom for this new discovery and for this latest installment of our journey through the burgeoning rural coffee scene in Pennsylvania. My car is in the shop, so I don’t know when the next road trip will be unless I’m schlepped somewhere. Somehow I’ll get to the Alleghenies. Until then, my patient readers, stay caffeinated!

Joe’s shop…

the signage…

the roast…

not just inspired…

the barn…

a clearer view…

I warned you this might happen. I took a side trip to Bloomsburg, PA, for a Bluegrass concert this past weekend in place of my planned travels west. Call it a case of, once again, striking while the iron was hot. Recently, I’ve concluded what many wiser men already have: I can’t take any of these days for granted. I can’t even plan for the future without first regarding the possibilities of today. Tomorrow is not guaranteed. Suffice it to say that this past year has brought that message into focus for me. I like surety and guarantees. I like plans and mapping the future. Sometimes, the future takes issue.

Let’s not dwell on strife. Instead, let’s focus on what happens when a plan comes together without a plan. This concert exemplified that. It wasn’t on my itinerary. The surplus money I kept locked away for adventures contained nothing for BBQ & Brew at the Bloomsburg Fairgrounds. That was an oversight on my part. I’m glad I overcame the stasis because the entire event was phenomenal, including the bluegrass music playing from the surprisingly massive stage. To think, I was planning for autumn because I was growing tired of this summer without ever really giving it a chance. I’m glad I woke up and stepped out the door.

The Bloomsburg Fairgrounds are getting more use than anyone ever thought they would decades ago when the Bloomsburg Fair itself was the annual treat in these parts. What a difference the years have made! The Susquehanna valleys are growing in importance, if not in population. There are so many new events here that keeping track is difficult. The same is true of the local coffee culture.

If readers remember, I’ve reviewed a few coffee shops in this area before. The main difference is that of trend. You’ll find more overtly trendy establishments here. Between Bloomsburg University, Bucknell, and Susquehanna University, this region is rife with college life. With that comes a confident expectation in regard to coffee culture. Hip young folk proffer big-city sensibilities to exiles from urban centers and also to rural students, for whom the coffeehouse might be their first entrepot into a more cosmopolitan culture than their own. The collegiate life also fuels venues for cultural events, which is what we’re seeing here in Bloomsburg.

That brings us to the two places I reviewed today. They’re not actually coffee shops. Instead, they represent how coffee culture is making its way into the festival scene. Coffee culture is planting itself at the heart of the peripatetic festival world with food trucks and kiosks. Here are a few examples:

Number one was a kiosk in the middle of the farmer’s market that came before the festival. Apparently, it’s a regular thing here and one to which I must return. The seller was called 2 Sisters Coffee. In reality, they don’t just sell coffee. There was a selection of boutique garlic as well. I decided to go bold and get the dark roast this time. It was a Peruvian, which I haven’t had in ages. The label on the table promised strong chocolate hints and a robust flavor. The chocolate was actually not as prominent as I thought it would be, but the density and power shone through when I ground the beans at home in my machine. A very savory selection.

Number two was “Buckin’ Bean Coffee Co.” which came packed in a classic food truck. Their coffee is locally sourced, in this case from Danville. They gave me a Sumatran/South American blend. I drank it cold-brewed because, by now, the temperature had soared into the 80s, with a thick blanket of humidity in the air. In a strange twist of fate, this coffee had the strong chocolate notes that the previous offering from 2 Sisters lacked. That might have been from the oat milk I used, but the flavor was really prominent. It was also a more airy and light blend. Again, the folks at the helm must have been acutely aware of the needs of their wilting customers!

One note: Buckin’ Bean was founded this past February, making it an example of a coffee outfit that’s sprung up in the wake of 2020’s troubles. They’re a rural operation, but in this case, they’re specifically catering to the massive increase in outdoor festivals and traveling events. The food truck revolution is taking the coffee world by storm.

Unfortunately, the chaotic nature of this month and the next doesn’t seem to be abating anytime soon. There are commitments and hurdles ahead. Even so, I hope to get on the road again soon, this time into the heart of Huntingdon County’s Amish world. Maybe a storm of craziness will provide the impetus to do just that. Until next time, stay caffeinated!

the beans…

the bus…

the band…uncle jake and the 18 wheel gang