Category Archives: Uncategorized

The decision had been made. Southwest it was. In the end, my next stop was a tossup between going here and heading back up northwest into the mountain ranges of the Juniata Valley. Rather than head back up Route 22 (which I will quite soon), I decided on a warm April 27th to head down into the little-known South Mountain area and the town of Fort Ritchie, Maryland. The community is a recent revival of an old military base. Fort Ritchie reminded me of somewhere closer to home: Arcona. Like Arcona, this little town is seemingly a planned, roped-off community with its own shops, community center, and infrastructure. One of those shops is a beautiful coffee spot called The Greenhouse Cafe.

Coming to this cafe was certainly a journey in the traditional sense. Meaning, I had to cross over hills and dales and take side-roads into the backcountry. There was a massive traffic jam in Hagerstown as traffic was literally stopped for the repair of a highway section. No, that wasn’t a typo. We had to sit there while a water truck was brought in to cool the recently applied blacktop, and there was no way to pull off the road. I was just about to do a probably-illegal u-turn, double back, and try my luck heading east through Hagerstown to blaze my own trail when things finally opened up. The last part of the ride was a fun jaunt up South Mountain into the valley in which this town was nestled.

The surrounding town is actually called Highland-Cascade, but Greenhouse Cafe was squarely in the middle of Fort Ritchie. Most of the towns around here are old mountain villages; a gas station, a few convenience stores, and no definable downtown area. Arco…I mean Fort Ritchie…is a standout in this environment, as is its coffeehouse. The Greenhouse Cafe is certainly more of an archetypal coffeehouse than the previous destinations were. From lovely book nooks to an old-fashioned globe in the reading room, this locale brims with the trappings of traditional coffeehouse culture. The standout feature was the long hallway filled with seats, tables, and plants. The words that spring to mind are “classy” and “elegant.” It felt like a stately garden party.

Interestingly enough, Greenhouse opened this past October, the same month as at least one of the previous coffeehouses I’ve reviewed over the past few months. The post-plague-era business boom is continuing apace. Sure, many businesses were lost, but that metaphorical ’empty greenfield’ became fertile ground for new endeavors. Entirely new markets for establishments like this have opened up as city folk (like me) have embraced the positives of country living. Fancy people need fancy coffee, and this venue is, shall we say, rather elevated. I’m betting part of their regular clientele includes the student body of nearby Penn State Mont Alto in Waynesboro, PA.

I ordered the medium roast: a Costa Rican. This roast was done in collaboration with nearby Brio coffee roasters in Waynesboro and Greencastle, though Greenhouse also collaborates with River Bottom roasters as you can see in the photo below. What a tight-knit coffee conspiracy! Ironically, I was close to heading over the mountain to Brio before I discovered this place. Anyhow, this particular offering epitomized the qualities of a Central American roast. It was so rich and earthy that it reminded me of Turkish coffee. One can almost feel sediment in the mouthfeel. I mean that as a compliment. A Costa Rican should be dense and sumptuous. This one was.

After I finished my coffee, I went even further into the mountains to partake of another fixture of South Mountain life: the Appalachian Trail entry point along Route 16. I did a bit of hiking and then decided to take a far more circuitous but less congested route home. As I drove away, I pondered yet another facet of rural coffee culture: namely, that a coffeehouse that appeals to the classical sensibilities of coffeehouse culture also has a viable niche. I wondered how many hiking philosophers (like me) found comfort and familiarity at The Greenhouse Cafe. That’s all for this time. It’s likely that the next leg will be a series of forays back into the mountains further west where an exciting new coffee culture continues to spring up.

the approach…

the town…

of fort ritchie…

the cafe…

the greenhouse…

the roast…

the world of coffee…

Ride Like The Wind. That’s a song by Christopher Cross, and it was playing in my head from the moment I woke up on April 13th. The sun was streaming in my bedroom window and the temperature left no excuses not to hit the road. Time to head out on another leg of the Journey. This one took me exactly where I expected…to a new spot called The Old Mill Coffeehouse just to the northeast of my last foray. That was the location deep in Amish country suggested to me by the patrons of the last stop, Stan’s Coffee Company.

It’s easy to romanticize the Pennsylvania countryside when you’re looking at it on a map. You look at it and see the endless hills and the roads stretching into them and you imagine a slew of lost towns and adventures to be had. There are those. Oh, yes, there are those aplenty. But there are also, as we say in Pennsylvania, miles and miles of miles and miles.

Sitting right in the middle of those miles is The Old Mill Coffeehouse in Richfield, near Thompsontown. I must admit, I’m still packing my expectations right along with my trail rations. I thought that, because “Old Mill” was out in the countryside, away from the main drag of Route 22, it might be a bit sparing, or at least reflective of the rural economy and its characteristic lack of demand for fancy coffee. It did nothing of the sort. This old mill would not have been too out of place in the urban jungle of cafes and arthouses that I’m used to.

The aging exterior belied the sophistication of the interior. I couldn’t even find the place on the first try, the small signpost barely registering among the entreaties of the local general store. The original scales from the original Richfield Feed Mill are still onsite. Once I got inside, though, I was treated to a feast for the eyes. Dark, lacquered hardwood everything. Hand-drawn signs. Cozy tables. A bar along the broad windows with stools. If it sounds like I’m hard-selling the ambiance, you’ve got good eyes. I can’t be unbiased about the architecture.

At least, those were my thoughts regarding the state of the ground floor. The second floor and basement are still under construction. Old Mill opened last October on the 17th, and the family that runs it has some grand designs for the future. A business conference center, a stage, and an event space. There’s already a drive-thru option. Now, that’s ambitious. But having met the owners, I can tell they’re serious about this project…which brings us to the coffee itself.

Now, as you know, I’d been told that there were emerging coffee roasters out here in the countryside. Rewinding to my last post, these folks in particular were lauded by a few locals. The coffee is indeed local and proprietary; roasted by the apparently affiliated Greater Heights Coffee right down the road and roasted well as I was to find out. I was told of a wood-fired coffee roaster. As per usual I asked for the current house blend. Flash forward: I ended up buying it. The coffee, called Thrasher, was a dark roast, not your typical medium. In fact, the girl at the counter was a bit disdainful of medium roasts and pointed out that it was easier to moderate too-strong coffee than beef up a weak brew. I wholeheartedly agree. I could not put my finger on the flavor profile I was getting here. It was dense and rich for sure with the mouthfeel of a Columbian but also having a pronounced umami flavor. Yes, there was a pear-like umami there, I’m sure of it. Strangely, it wasn’t nearly as evident when I ground and brewed the beans myself. In the bouquet, yes. In the cup, no. They’re doing something special there, I just know it, and I’ll probably never find out what their secret is.

Old Mill Coffeehouse, even more than the last few, exemplifies the narrative arc of this leg of the Journey. Namely, the coffee revolution happening in small-town Pennsylvania. To illustrate the point, the only other customers were two Amish women in traditional dresses sitting at a table chatting. Another intersection of traditional Christian rural life, and the expression of modernity that constitutes coffee culture. The old mill itself is a metaphor set in stone. A classic building not destroyed, but modified. A foundational landmark of country pride remade but preserved both in spirit and fact. By now, I don’t have to tell you it was well worth the drive.

So what’s on tap for next time? West and something. Either south or north is a possibility. Going back across the river into the hills can either take us down the Cumberland Valley to South Mountain and the Appalachian Trail towns in that area, or it can bring us further northwest towards the State College region. I’ll get to both, but which one will be first is the question. Any suggestions? Until a few weeks from now when either I or my readers (a.k.a: you) make up their minds, keep exploring the scene…and of course, stay caffeinated.

the ride into town…

the sign…

the exterior…

the interior…

the history…

the roast…

This post changes everything. Actually, it kind of reverses everything. Remember when the Journey went into the border hills of the Allegheny/Pennsylvania Appalachian ridgelines and then abruptly went back to Harrisburg because of a major post-plague boom in coffee spots? Well, we’re back on the road to the west again. This development comes thanks to a misclick on Google and some unexpected advice while on the road. Let me explain:

I was trying to find good places for coffee near some old hiking haunts of mine. Now that the weather is finally something other than gray and white and cold, I plan to head out on the trail in the near future. Mind you, I already have visited all the current coffee spots in those areas, but I just wanted to double-check in case I missed something. I centered the map too far to the north in error and hit the coffee button. That was no bug. It was a feature. Turns out there is a fine new coffee shop (or, rather, a new shop for fine coffee) along the very same road I took into the same mountains all those months ago. That’s an understatement, actually. More on that later.

I decided to make the trip on March 16th because the date was right between two storm systems, and you do not want to be stuck on Rt. 22 North when those winds kick up. Stan’s Coffee Company is located right in the heart of Thompsontown, PA, a quick exit off the aforementioned Road of Peril. There isn’t a well-defined downtown here; only some building density at the intersection of Mill and Main Streets. There is, however, a coffeehouse that clearly belongs in one. Stan’s would not be out of place in a hip college town’s main thoroughfare. Thus, I’m immediately reminded of the very (seeming) contradiction that started me on this journey years ago: the juxtaposition of urban and rural life.

Another layer was added to this concept the minute I walked inside. Several layers, actually. On the one hand, there were beautiful hardwood shelves lined with books and Edison lights. On the other, I heard joyful Christian music coming from the radio. The former would be right at home in Harrisburg. The latter would not. Everything had the feel of being freshly minted, yet the building has been in existence since the 1860s. Contrast followed contrast. Stay with me, there’s more of this theme to come.

The woman at the counter, Mary, is co-owner with her husband Ben. She kindly filled me on on the whole story surrounding the emergence of the shop (I did a bit of digging on my own and Stan was, I believe, the name of Ben’s grandfather-these folks have been in the community for generations). Stan’s itself is incredibly new, having opened the day before New Year’s Day this year. The coffee is a product of Cedar Shed Coffee Roasters. Guess where that’s located. Nearby East Salem. The entire operation is local.

The coffee I had was a very smooth Colombian roast. Here’s something I found unique: It didn’t appear to have high acidity. That’s a characteristic of most Arabica beans (the other main coffee bean type being the lesser quality Robusta). Yet, this was still clearly an Arabica judging by the high quality of the roast. I and many others tend to brew Colombian Arabicas darker, whereas the average breakfast blend tends to be a light-to-medium blend of beans. This particular roast combined the qualities of being light and full with a minimum of astringency. There was some, but it was mellowed somehow on the palate. It’s rare to see that done, or at least done so dynamically.

Following the conversation I had with Mary immediately after the tasting, I understood where that degree of care came from. She informed me that there was a recent groundswell of local roasters, especially Mennonite outfits. Recall, I already reviewed one of those locals: Merle from Appalachian Mountain Coffee. When I name-dropped him, another patron (a fellow coffee nut) engaged with me and we were off on a long-winded exposition regarding the virtues and flaws of the Central Pennsylvania coffee scene! There have been some successes and setbacks along the way, but that’s what you get with an emergent industry. The fellow I mentioned pointed me in the direction of a particularly good bet: Greater Heights Coffee Roasters in nearby Richfield.

In summation, this lovely blue shop represents the tip of a coffee iceberg. The official website describes it as “quaint.” I would beg to differ. Stan’s is actually quite cutting edge, from the effective networks with local roasters they’re building to the polished interior. There’s no nostalgia here, but rather a fully authentic melding of the rustic and modern, not in terms of mere aesthetics, but baked into the culture itself. Out here, farm and family are the lifestyles. I like that. The next stop will either be Greater Heights or somewhere near South Mountain. Either way, it’s likely westward-ho. Until then, stay caffeinated.

the greeting…

the ample bookshelves…

the extra bookshelves…

the copious coffee…

the room with a view…

the current brew…

the unexplored conservatory…

the town of thompsontown…

Alright, so, obviously this post isn’t about coffee. I haven’t been able to visit any coffeehouses this month due to having troublesome touches of flu and dealing with February weather in Pennsylvania. Hint: It’s bad. Wind, rain, and snow, all on the same day and on lots of days. Thus far, my attempts to get coffee from far afield have been stymied and look to remain so until sometime around mid-March. So let’s write about something else until March.

That “something else” will be gratitude. This blog could have gone in several directions. One of those directions was trendy professionalism. It’s hard to deny that there are certain characteristics that, in the minds of contemporary intellectuals, constitute acceptable blog content and presentation. In other words, some blogs are considered ‘bloggier’ than others. These bloggy blogs get all the attention and, of course, sponsors and advertisers. At any point, I could have retooled this blog to reflect the zeitgeist of blogging. I’m glad I didn’t. I’d rather this space be a rough-hewn passion project than a slick-and-polished reflection of the postmodern blogosphere. Hence, I am going to continue to use words like ‘hence’ and also reflect on the kind of blogs I don’t like…the kind I’m glad this blog will never be.

On Bloggy Blogs And Their Consequences

Whenever someone writes a blog post about some social issue or lifestyle matter, you get it in the same tired format. They invariably open up with some anecdote from their life. Do you care about my breakfast? Not at the outset, but you do now, and it lets you know I’m human. We’re buddies, dude. We’re friends, guy.

Right. So, the next step is to delineate the problem in some milquetoast, non-judgmental way that sounds like a generic PR statement regarding the issue. Blah, blah, blah, words, words, words. More words. Heaps and heaps of words. Milquetoast and non-judgmental words that I can use to signal my virtue vis-a-vis the standards of my reference society and thus not alienate the reader. Are you still with me? Of course, you are. I haven’t said anything to alienate you. That was the point of being so lukewarm, you silly goose.

Now for the part where I heap praise upon my opponents even though I clearly disagree with them. If you didn’t think I was a proper academic gentleman like them before, you sure as sugar do now, pal. They’re geniuses. They’re wonderful. I could never hold a candle to such a blah-blah-blah, yackety-smakety. You get the point. I’ll say these things even if they don’t respect me.

Here’s where I start pointing out tiny little flaws in their arguments while still simping to them like a prom queen bringing cookies to the quarterback. I validate all of their asinine concerns, which had I addressed them right off the bat, would have rendered my opponents’ positions moot. However, that would have upset the apple cart by showing that I have a strong position outside the mainstream of current thought on the subject. Upset apples don’t click on blog posts. Best to not risk offense.

Finally, allow me to propose a lukewarm solution. During the course of this portion, I’ll try making every paragraph a single sentence. That’s a neat trick to make me seem even more conversational.

Small paragraphs also look clean and professional.

I will also put important ideas in italics. And use grammatically-incorrect periods. Lots of them.

There you have it: a few largely-asinine pages that have left you no wiser, no smarter, and certainly no closer to a solution to the issue we were discussing. You can call yourself well-read, though, since you did read a post by me, a genuine professional intellectual. Notice how I used the impersonal, academic “we” back there. That was a smart-person thing. Do you feel like part of the club now? It doesn’t matter. This wasn’t about solutions or about you; it was about my intelligence and good-person-ness.

I hope this blog post finds you well, salutations, stay safe. Someone’s rights are human rights. I’ll let the advertisers decide whom.

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That, in a nutshell, is how one writes a bloggy blog. It was, one can see, very bloggy. May this blog never become a bloggy blog.

Happy New Ear! You heard me. The insomnia I was stricken with last month segued nicely into a clogged ear and another doctor’s visit this month. That situation prevented me from heading into the mountains as I had been planning since I had this persistent fear of the pressure changing and my eardrum rupturing. Well, the ear is better after being (painfully) flushed, and now that you’re all in no mood for dinner after hearing that story, perhaps you’re ready for coffee! I know I am. And in spite of health crap, polar vortices, and all the rest, there is coffee to be had. You have my parents to thank for that.

They’re the ones who surprised me at Christmas with an array of new coffees to try! I have no idea why she chose this eclectic and fascinating mix of beans, but the goodwill didn’t stop there. She got me a professional coffee-grinding machine! It’s great being the spoiled only child. So basically, this leg of the journey took me no further than the couch. It was still a culinary adventure, and I’ll be detailing it below, item by item.

Coffee #1: Bewley’s Cafe Blend Gold Roast

OK, so, this coffee is a classic by definition. Bewley’s is an Irish company that has been in business for almost 200 years. This bag came from a Celtic shop over in New Cumberland. Now, they say it’s a medium roast, but this was, to me, more of a light and pretty breakfast blend. As advertised, there was a sweet caramel flavor blended with a jaunty acidic flavor. Strangely, this coffee is (I think) at its best when mixed with other, more robust varieties. Indeed, it added some variety to the Colombian I mixed it with, layering the flavor profile nicely. An intelligently-done breakfast blend; just don’t expect a punch of power. I’m going to have to sample some of their even-more-famous teas next.

Coffee #2: Death Wish Medium Roast

Mom knows I like medium roasts. Everyone does. Come on, it’s a thing by now. The Death Wish medium roast was one that I almost bought myself a while back. It was in the racks of that little cafe inside Penne From Heaven that I reviewed before…remember? Death Wish is USDA-certified organic and the company prides itself on the extra jolt of caffeine in each cup. Double the average, in fact. Death Wish was mighty coy regarding the provenance of their beans, saying only that it was grown in “high altitude conditions.”  Oh, like the Andes perhaps (wink, wink…)? I opened the bag and was blasted with a melange of cocoa and smoldering wood scents! Being rather woodsy, I like that combination. I only ground and sipped a little. I must admit, I was surprised. Companies that emphasize the caffeine aspect of their coffee upfront might be expected to skimp on quality. Such was not the case here. It packed a wallop, certainly, but the bold flavors were nonetheless textured and complex. Subtle it was not, but well-layered and assembled it was. It reminded me of a friend from high school; he was a big, tough football jock who also painted wonderfully. If you’re looking for a gentle awakening, avoid overdosing on Death Wish (which works out well given the $20 price tag!). Still, the artistry here is impossible to ignore.

Coffee #3: BKG Coffee Roasters, City Reserve, Coffey St.

I had never heard of this roasting company before this. Something tells me it’s a glaring defect, and that a small-batch gourmet roasting company based in Brooklyn since 2003 is hip enough that everyone in the know knows, and since I didn’t know, it means I’m clearly an amateur. I am an amateur; the hipsters are dead right. And this is a fantastic coffee, which I’m certain they already knew as well. As advertised on the package, the expected flavors were “brown sugar, cocoa, and red apple.” They were additionally described as “nuanced.” Nuanced is exactly what they were. I had to roll the coffee around on my tongue a few times before I picked them up. When I did, it was the brown sugar hints that stood out brilliantly. The others stay in the background giving it structure. That means I didn’t appreciate them until it was too late. Interestingly, smelling the freshly ground beans manifested even more of that sweet palette. The takeaway: This blend should always be purchased whole-bean and hand-ground if possible for that very reason. You need to take time with this one. The payoff is worth the effort.

Let’s hope that this next month brings better health and better weather. Between megadosing Vitamin D to squirting saline solution in my ears and Flonase up my nose, I think I have all my bases covered. Hey, if you go to an anime convention this spring, remember to take your…Escaflownase! Yes. That was an anime joke. You’re welcome. See you after Groundhog Day when I will hopefully be headed back to parts unknown. Stay caffeinated.

Insomnia. What an ironic ailment for a caffeine addict to suffer. Yet, suffer I did for a week at the beginning of December. I get it sometimes when the nights are long, the weekends are cold and dull, and life starts getting dramatic. All of those things have been happening in my corner of Pennsylvania lately. On Thursday the 8th, however, I finally crashed after one-and-a-half sleepless nights. The one thing I needed more than coffee was an escape. I searched for somewhere to go that wasn’t too far and could be part of the Journey (since writing relaxes me). One Google search was all it took. I found Brew Boxx Coffee.

Finding this place was a shock. I thought I’d effectively scouted the surrounding mountain valleys of Dauphin County for new coffee joints. They don’t pop up every day out in the countryside! Low demand and a lifestyle emphasizing farm life over art life out of necessity conspire to make coffeehouses rather rare north of the Kittatinny Range that bisects Dauphin physically and culturally. I’ll cut right to the chase: Brew Boxx is a beautiful exemplum of cultural fusion.

As soon as I pulled my weary self into the parking lot of Smucker Gardens, I knew this would be fascinating. OK, first of all, “Smucker” and “Garden” both scream “Amish” and there were indeed Amish folks around tending to the plants and tractors near the entrance. I soon learned that this was not the only entrance…and that to get to the coffee, I’d need to take a walk on the wild side.

I strode around to the greenhouse portion of the establishment and after a few tries found the side door. The fact that there was coffee here was obvious due to the massive signage. That was another odd juxtaposition. The signs looked trendy and upscale; they could have been beckoning Harrisburg hipsters to the new hotspot of the month. There was no hint of a nod to the country heritage of the rest of Smucker Gardens. I liked that. They could have done something kitschy but knew they didn’t have to.

In fact, Brew Boxx needed nothing but its surroundings. Upon entering the gardens I was treated to a summery wonderland of sorts. The “coffee shop” was actually a large kiosk in a shaded alcove of the verdant greenhouse. I spoke to the owner/barista Lorraine (I hope that’s how she spells it).and she said that this had been a long-time dream of hers. It looked like a dream. By that I mean there was a dreamlike quality to the surroundings that clearly showed its provenance in someone’s fantasy come to life. This fantasy came to life only a few months ago, as the world opened up again. It’s always a pleasant thing to see a dream persevere through hard times and succeed so brilliantly in execution.

The coffee was another surprise. The brand was Colina. If that name sounds familiar to any of my nearby readers, it’s because they’re a brand local to Harrisburg. The byline of the company is “Good coffee that does good,” and what’s not to like about that? There wasn’t anything not to like about this particular brew. The baristas are quite skilled too, as evidenced by the balanced scent and flavor. The particulars of the roast were proprietary (since this blend had been explicitly commissioned for Brew Boxx) but a few distinctive qualities allowed my taste buds to make an educated guess. The label said ‘cocoa and citrus’ and that was pretty much on the money. The citrus was pronounced but was indeed mellowed with a quasi-chocolatey richness. The cocoa actually came through as a general yet pronounced earthiness. I’d imagine this was an Ethiopian and a savory one. Update: It was a New Guinea!

And with that final note, there’s a new leg of the Journey beginning to manifest. I didn’t have the time or the energy to explore the rest of northern Dauphin county. I did notice a few promising search results, but they were a bit ambiguous. Some ‘coffee’ places looked more like family restaurants or antique stores. That doesn’t mean I’m writing them off. If anything, Smucker Gardens has demonstrated that coffeehouses don’t have to look like coffeehouses on the outside to be authentic beneath the surface. Sometimes the best treasures are well-hidden. Until next time, Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, Io Saturnalia, and stay caffeinated (but get a little sleep, too…)

the entrance…

the signage…

the greenhouse…

the kiosk…

the brew…

the town square…

Happy Thanksgiving, and welcome to the last installment of the Harrisburg Renaissance series. This one requires a bit of exposition. Bubble Tea isn’t really a thing. It’s an anglicization of the word “boba” which as far as I know means “pearl” and refers to the small “pearls” of tapioca (or sometimes grass jelly, red bean, or aloe) at the bottom of what is otherwise a milk-and-sugar-infused tea. It originated in Taiwan during the 1980s and has become so deeply ingrained into the culture that since 2020, April 30th has been declared National Bubble Tea Day in Taiwan. From Taiwan, the beverage spread around to Pacific Rim to other Asian countries, which brings us in a roundabout way to Harrisburg.

Harrisburg has a large Asian population. We take it for granted that not every city has an Indian or Nepalese grocer on every corner with dark soy and masala available to make your chicken really pop. It shouldn’t be too surprising in retrospect that a bubble tea palace like DEN showed up here, owned by some Vietnamese folk and offering a wide array of Vietnamese fare in addition to bubble tea. It also offers bubble coffee, hence its inclusion in this blog!

I’m not exactly sure what coffee was used here, but it tasted almost exactly like a craft-made cold-brewed Colombian. It was a really delicious one, too. It reminded me of the first cold brew I ever drank, from Harrisburg’s own Little Amps. I haven’t had a cold brew in a long time; in fact, I rarely enjoy cold coffee. This was exceptional and blunted my biases because somehow they’d largely eliminated the odd spoiled-milk taste that I’ve often found accompanies cold coffee. I’m guessing that effect was due to the boba. It’s not far-fetched to assume that the tapioca had a mellowing effect on what can often be a very bold and expressive bean. The result was an extraordinarily well-balanced blend of coffee traditions.

This particular iteration of DEN has been open for several years now. It actually predates the plague. The expansion, however, is quite new. On November 9th, the DEN franchise had its soft opening right across the river in Mechanicsburg. So, not only did a niche coffee spot survive the turmoil; it thrived and is poised to make a mark on the coffee scene on both shores of the Susquehanna River. If you’ve got a taste for the borderlands of exotic and familiar, stop by DEN.

So what’s next for the Coffeehouse Journey? So far, the plan is to go in one of two directions. The first is south to South Mountain and the Maryland border. There should be a rich harvest of coffeehouses near Waynesboro and the Penn State branch campus there. The Appalachian Trail is also nearby, and that bodes well. The second option is to go West and finish (or at least continue) the Alleghanies Leg that was cut short months ago due to those new openings in Dutch Country. Stay tuned, and as always, stay caffeinated.

the slightly erroneous sign…

the den…

the window seats…

the invitation…

the beverage…

the boba…

Confession: This one is a bit outside of Harrisburg. Of course, if you live in Harrisburg, you know that most of “Harrisburg” lies outside of Harrisburg. It’s complicated. Many of us count everything south of the Kittatinny Ridge in Dauphin County as “Harrisburg.” Indeed, nothing to the west of the Susquehanna River is Harrisburg, although stuff in the middle of the river counts. Obviously. As I said, it’s complicated.

Ur turn cafe is quite a bit to the east of Harrisburg proper, in the Skyline-area outskirts on the road to the famous town of Hershey, but I’m calling it. This place is pure Harrisburg. There is a quiet but active underground of gamers in this city. We’re lucky enough to have a few good gaming and hobby shops. Then again, that really is a function of population density. Really, I have no idea what it’s like to be the only Dungeons & Dragons-loving kid in the middle of Juniata County or in the middle of Iowa. That can’t be easy. Again, I’m finding myself drawn to the exoticism of the coffeehouses now popping up in the Harrisburg area.

When I got here, the place was deserted. Well, not entirely. Co-owner Tyson was there waiting on his wife (another co-owner) to get in from Hershey. There was apparently a traffic jam of sorts up there (not surprising for Hershey). Unfortunately, the traffic had caught everyone by surprise and there wasn’t even any coffee on! Tyson offered to rectify this situation for me immediately and I gratefully accepted. That’s when he and I got to talking. The announcement for urturn cafe came out in a June 2020 issue of PennLive. Yes, he, his wife, and his brother-in-law opened this place smack dab in the middle of the worst days of the plague.

The odds were certainly against them, but today, the shop appears to be thriving. In fact, Tyson told me all about an upcoming tournament being held in the big dining room, and the poster board was laden with advertisements for upcoming sci-fi and fantasy-related events. There was also evidence of a massive kitchen. I had time to look at everything as I was waiting for my coffee. I also had time to talk to Tyson about the nerd stuff that we clearly both enjoy. After a few minutes of deep-diving into gaming, I could tell that Tyson was a true gaming geek. I don’t want to sound like a gatekeeper right now by saying “true” geek. Scratch that, I’m fine with it. Authenticity is important. If you can’t tell the difference between authentic and inauthentic, you must be a postmodernist, and you deserve an upbraiding for that alone. But I digress. This dude is authentic.

The coffee I got was Citavo’s Arabica house blend. Yes, the Sysco Citavo. Yes, the mass-produced kind. I know, I’m supposed to hate it. But I didn’t. I mean, OK, this was technically diner coffee, but at least it was a higher-end diner coffee. The owners made the effort to cull the best from the company, and that was admirable! The brewing itself was exemplary. It takes real know-how to turn a basic brew into something tasty. In this case, the saving element was that Tyson knew to brew a simple Arabica extra long in order to squeeze out the last of the flavor. A cunning move, sir! It certainly didn’t have the astringent taste of typical diner fare after that. I’m sure his coffee fuels many a long night of D&D. Or GURPS. Yeah, I like GURPS better, fight me.

So yeah, if you’re like me and enjoy everything from board games to tabletop roleplaying games, be sure to stop by this place. It’s an oasis in the middle of the vast expanse of Route 22/Jonestown Road. We’ve saved what is perhaps the most purely exotic for last. I’ll let you wonder what that might be. Until the last part of this leg, stay caffeinated.

the invite…

the games…

the setup…

bard’s delight…

ur turn…

What can I say? I’m high on life. So are the folks at this coffee shop, and that’s all they’re probably gonna admit to. The Melted Pot, after all, is not an ordinary coffeehouse by any stretch of the imagination. It’s attached to a glass shop. No, not the optometry glass or the fine stemware. It’s the other kind of glass. Now you’re on the trolley, and probably beginning to understand the double-entendre(s) at work in The Melted Pot. The glass shop is the venerable Coexist gallery in Steelton. Yes, Steelton counts as Harrisburg, even though it’s farther away from the center city than Lemoyne is. If you don’t know, have anyone on either shore of the Susquehanna River explain it to you.

When I said venerable, I meant it. The Coexist gallery has been a fixture in the area for a long time, serving the needs of the awkwardly transmundane for years now. They didn’t just survive the plague; they thrived in the insanity and grew by leaps and bounds as people craved not only music and fellowship but the idea of music and fellowship. That’s what Coexist really taps into. There is a certain je ne sais qua surrounding summer concerts, events, and hangouts. If you didn’t appreciate it before, you likely do now. There’s something innate to Humans engendering a need to connect and express both one’s self and creative impulse. They get that here.

Perhaps that’s why I first encountered Coexist under those exact circumstances back in June. I had just come home from a beer festival in Glen Rock and saw that Coexist was having a free music and street festival along the main drag in Steelton and in their parking lot. If ever there had been a day that captured summer in America. No, this isn’t a paid ad for them; I’m just plotzing because it was that day and my experience then that led me back here when I heard they were selling coffee as an add-on.

That coffee endeavor, The Melted Pot, was such a relentless tease. From my experience, the signs were up for a while before any actual coffee was available. Like most businesses, getting a project off the ground in 2020-2022 was an exercise in patience or the lack thereof. The patience of owner Shawn Gold, a Navy veteran, has made that project come to fruition. Well, mostly. The fancy machinery isn’t installed yet, and what is certain to be a beautiful lounge area remains partly open to the air and filled with scraps of construction.

None of that mattered. When I tasted the coffee, I knew that this place would be preeminent. That’s not an exaggeration. The company behind the beans was called Prestogeorge. They’re out of Pittsburgh. The specific roast I had was an organic Peruvian. I do love South American and Guatemalan coffees. The reason is the richness that isn’t quite earthy but close and the hints of chocolate and (now this was interesting) something of a perfumed, not-quite-floral quality that somehow ended up in the lingering aftertaste.

Whether it was the skill of the barista Tori, the brilliant roasting at the source, or a combination thereof (likeliest), this was a gem. Oddly enough, it resembled the brewing style of another favorite of mine since the beginning of the Journey, St. Thomas Roasters. St. Thomas tends to produce more mild yet savory fare, while this coffee was unabashedly robust. When I poured a bit out into the sink just to make sure it was as rich as I thought, there was no mistaking it for tea. That’s a compliment.

Nobody would have suspected that Coexist would transition so smoothly from focusing on -ahem- green-colored luxuries to brown ones. The coffee could have easily been ancillary. Instead, they made it central, and thus they gave themselves another distinctive. Look for more from Coexist and The Melted Pot soon. The summer concerts they have planned for this coming year are likely going to be spectacular.

And with that last note, we’re on to the next coffee spot. It’s called ur turn (yes, that’s the correct capitalization) and as much as Melted Pot was about fun, ur turn promises to put emphasis on the games. Until the next post, stay caffeinated.

the neon…

the chalk…

the art…

the vision…

the roast…

the takeaway…

This was supposed to be one post about a coffeehouse far to the north in a secluded valley near Pottsville. Instead, it has blown up into a four-parter on the post-plague renaissance of Pennsylvania’s capital city. Granted, I live here, so I’m biased, but this year there has been an explosion in the number of coffee shops and other restaurants as the city digs out from disaster. The phenomenon has been too fascinating, too inspiring, and too far-reaching in terms of both its audacity and success not to cover. So without further ado, here comes part one in the Harrisburg Renaissance series: Cafe de Olla.

First a little background: Cafe de Olla isn’t just the name of the cafe that opened on Third Street a few short months ago. It’s a very specific variety of spiced Mexican coffee. Traditionally, an earthen clay pot is used to brew it. The basic version of the beverage is made with ground coffee, cinnamon, and piloncillo, an unrefined whole cane sugar. You may recognize it by its other name, panela. Those aren’t the only spices it can include, just the ones it should.

Our new Cafe de Olla (the shop) is deceptively unassuming on the outside. It looks like a tiny Mexican street cafe from without (the lettering and awning give its heritage away), but on the inside, the space opens up into a stately series of white cubes that look for all the world like a downtown art gallery. In fact, there is art hanging everywhere on the walls and hidden alcoves concealing streamlined, modern architectural details. I’m a hardcore modernist both aesthetically and philosophically (love me some Gernsback and Buckminster Fuller) so this space really spoke to me.

On to the coffee. Unsurprisingly this was not your basic coffee. Indeed, Cafe de Olla was first on my list because it was so unique. Plot twist: The woman who served me the coffee, as well as the coffee itself, were both Colombian. I have no idea if the Colombian brewing style is different traditionally from Mexican. I do know that Mexican beans are milder and brighter. Mild and bright are two words I would use to categorize this Colombian. Another two words I’d use are cinnamon power! You could really taste the cinnamon, but it didn’t feel like a face full of Christmas like a pure cinnamon addition to a coffee drink. There were some special spices in there but I didn’t ask exactly what they were. It was a bit overwhelming for me, but then I eat cheese sandwiches for lunch with just the cheese and mustard. Hence, I’ve always been slightly biased against flavored coffees. This one, however, was such a distinctive and well-formulated recipe that I must recommend it to connoisseurs.

Cafe de Olla makes a great addition to Harrisburg. So many coffeehouses tend to follow the same paradigm in terms of offerings and atmosphere. Cafe de Olla does neither (although you can get regular coffee here if you want it). What it offers is variety. Why is there a Mexican specialty coffee in the middle of the Burg, and why is it succeeding? Because if you didn’t think variety was the spice of life, you probably wouldn’t stay long here yourself. If you do like the unexpected, stop by Cafe de Olla and get a taste of Mexico without having to trek across the high chaparral.

The next installment will be posted in a couple of days. I’m spacing out the coverage so that a story about one doesn’t drown out the story of the next. There are going to be four in all, showcasing some of the greatest standouts of the Harrisburg area. Be prepared for surprises, and as always my friends, stay caffeinated.

the entrance…

the white cube…

the artistry…

the gallery…

the beans…