Category Archives: Uncategorized

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

Well, that didn’t take long. Getting back out on the road, I mean. I didn’t expect to make it back into the mountains for weeks, but on August 3rd, the morning dawned crisp and clear, filling me with an overwhelming need to drive. I have to remember that feeling. I have to remember how driving off into the hills makes me feel. The truth is this: My life seems intent on lurching from one little crisis to the next without a stretch of peace. As the old adage says, the best defense is a good offense. As such, If life won’t leave me alone, I won’t leave it alone. I’m not trapped in here with it. It’s trapped in here with me. Time to stretch my legs and wander.

That particular bright-ish August day (there was still, if I remember, a bit of wildfire haze lingering in the air), I decided to head out to McVeytown to visit a coffeehouse I’d only seen as a name on a map app. If you’ve heard the name, it’s for a good reason. McVeytown is one of those mountain burgs which, when conservatives talk about leaving Harrisburg for good, has its name bandied about as a prime place to flee. When I pulled into town after a long drive, I could see why. McVeytown is past a certain distance from Harrisburg, within which everything is becoming hipsterized and gentrified. Even Newport in Perry County is rapidly becoming a Mecca for the arts community, and it has a boom-town feel. McVeytown is neither of those things, still very recognizable as a farming town nestled in a random valley between random ridges. There’s a profound peace to that.

It turned out that getting to Venturous was an adventure in and of itself. Blame Google Maps. The dot on the map that was supposed to correspond to the coffeehouse instead sent me to an empty brick building. After walking around the place a few times like a confused vagrant (which I pretty much am), I finally gave in and called them. A kindly girl answered the phone and guided me through the backstreets of McVeytown by centering me on the one landmark with which everyone in town is familiar: the gas station. I’m sure it’s where everyone hangs out because the main street of McVeytown didn’t have much infrastructure. What it did have were several historical buildings that I would have loved to stop and explore. For now, though, the coffee was my only goal.

What I discovered at the end of my roundabout journey was a flawless example of the theme of the past few posts: a melding of urbane and backcountry sensibilities centered around coffee culture. The women at the counter were dressed in the modest ways of Amish or Mennonite folk, though I didn’t press for specifics. The Kishacoquillas Valley to the north of here is home to several prominent Amish groups, including the Nebraska Amish. Barista Mary skillfully filled my cup with brew and my mind with facts about the shop.

Everything is roasted on-site, for one thing. I snuck a gander at the roaster, and it’s a gorgeous machine. They are their own company entirely. Here’s another interesting tidbit: They opened in May of 2021. Did you notice how many of these local, homegrown coffee shops up in the mountains opened in the shadow of the plague? This is a trend, not an anomaly. It is, I surmise, a case of necessity breeding either invention or resistance. I imagine there’s a bit of both. They’re also responsible: A half pound of the blend I got goes to the natives (of wherever it’s farmed, apparently) for every pound-size bag you buy.

Here’s something else: The written predictions of what I’d be tasting were spot on. My usual order of the house blend offering really paid dividends this time. It was called The Old Faithful blend. There were supposed to be hints of chocolate, dried fruit, and citrus, and there were all of these to some degree. I couldn’t really taste the citrus that well; this seemed far more like a Guatemalan or similar. The chocolate and dried fruit were there at the beginning and end of the swig, respectively. The acidity was well-balanced. Dark roasts usually flatten acidity, but this was still crisp, though the body verged on heavy. Everything just seemed to hit a bullseye here, matching robustness with ease of drinking.

This cafe would not have been out of place in the Harrisburg area. At least not visually. Everything from the Edison lights to the polished hardwood interior said urban sophistication and luxury. On the other hand, the values of the people running Venturous are country to the core. That doesn’t just fascinate me; it attracts me. Let’s just say I agree with Voltaire. People believing in something good is preferable to believing in nothing. I know a great many people who have a deep and abiding faith in nothing. I prefer the opposite. I contend that values do drive quality to a great degree and that this simple postulate does much to explain the amazing growth we’re seeing in the rural coffee scene.

My next trip should be to a town straight down the road from McVeytown: Mount Union. It appeared on the maps to be nestled snugly up against a few mountains, which should make for an awesome view when I get there and take me deep into forested Huntingdon County. Although I must say that if a beer festival takes me to a different mountain (say, the ones surrounding Bloomsburg, PA) you shouldn’t be too surprised. The hills are alive with the sound of percolation. The next update should be in a few weeks. Until then, stay caffeinated.

the beginning…

the backstreets…

wow…

cozy interior…

the machine…

the selection…

the history…

the mountains call…

The week had finally come. My backpack was packed, on my back, with a few bottles of water and other supplies, just in case. I thought all the T’s were crossed, and the I’s were dotted. Then, the engine started to shimmy, and the check engine light started to blink, and I knew that my perfect chance to head out into the mountains was royally screwed. Cut to a week later. The car is fixed (I hope), but this was the weekend of the big Roots concert in Harrisburg, so I couldn’t trek off into the Appalachians in search of coffee. What was I to do?

Credit this post to my Mom, who took pity on her immobile son and found a new vintage store in the area, which also happened to be selling coffee from far afield. Grammarly may have a problem with every move I make, but having a family that understands me and my oddities and proclivities more than makes up for it. In truth, there was an actual journey involved here. We went out the road to Paxtonia, near Skyline View. That’s on the outskirts of Harrisburg, or rather, what most people consider Harrisburg. There’s still a Harrisburgness to the area. By that, I mean that even though you can see the mountains from your car, there’s still a city-paced tenor to the movement of life.

Going into the shop (just called Home Goods) was interesting in several ways. It’s wall-too-wall nik-naks. There was an entire shelf of silver and glass vases and such, which would have made rather awesome terrariums. I was tempted to pick up a few, but the coffee had to be the focus. My Mom had gotten some here a while back, and we soon made our way to the specialty foods shelves. Not only was there a large selection of coffees from all over the country; the opposite side of the coffee shelves had specialty Italian food! I was in heaven.

We picked up two bags of coffee from the West Coast…or at least I thought we had. Although the themes of the coffee were Western, the origin was a bit closer to home: White Coffee Corp. from Long Island, NY. It was called “Moose Munch,” so I had assumed it was from Oregon or Washington. Perhaps I’m stereotyping. Anyway, both blends were labeled “Arabica,” which tells me next to nothing besides the fact that neither is Robusta. For more info, I had to get brewing.

The first I tried was their signature Northwest Blend. It reminded me a bit of Maxwell House, actually, but with a few citrus notes suggesting an African origin. The notes weren’t too overwhelming, though, and there was a cocoa flavor on the back of the presentation, so that says Columbian or even Guatemalan to me. When they said “blend,” they meant it! I’m willing to wager that beans from both sides of the planet went into this offering. The next on the list was the Maple Vanilla. It was broadly similar to the Northwest Blend but with a touch of maple flavoring and a bit of vanilla which made the whole blend seem a bit more full-bodied. I actually prefer this specialty flavor because it’s more robust overall, yet the roasters didn’t give in to the temptation to amp up the flavor. An excellent weekend coffee!

OK, so, let’s hope that the next few weeks bring some chance of getting back up into the woods to search for more coffeehouses! There are a few more “hurdles.” August brings my family reunion, doctors’ visits, and other swell events like them. As such, don’t expect another post until late in the month, or maybe even until September! This coming month is nutty. I love summer, but I’m already looking forward to the opportunities for easy travel and sweat-free hiking that autumn will bring. As an aside, does anyone else think coffee tastes better when the weather is cold? Enough speculation. I hope to see you all in a few weeks. Until then, stay caffeinated.

the unassuming exterior…

brew number one…

and brew number two…

One HVAC overhaul, two tree trimmings, a new job, and a fully planted and weeded garden later, I’m finally back on the coffee trail. OK, there were a few music events in random fields and hop-soaked beer festivals marking the beginning of summer involved in the delay, too. Yes, it’s been a minute since I’ve been on a proper road trip. Winter is the time for aimless journeys. In summer, there are concrete destinations to be had. Even this leg of the Journey was done in coordination with another event. June 17th marked the annual Appalachian Trail festival in Duncannon, PA.

Trail Fest is an all-day event showcasing the best of this burgeoning trail town. Oh, it’s been a trail town for decades, but it feels like only recently has there been a concerted effort to embrace that status with things like breweries and coffee shops. You might remember Duncannon from a previous review I did on Wilderlove Coffee. I actually hung out with the owner for a few minutes before jetting off to find Earth’s Delights.

I should dial history back a little. Earth’s Delights was truly a chance find. Duncannon is very much the entry point to that Alleghany coffee country we’ve been exploring on this blog of late. Earth’s Delights is located well up into the hills to the north and west of Duncannon, situated between the towns of Loysville and Blain. These are small farming towns best remembered for the massive concerts that take place in the Blain picnic grounds. I decided to double-check and make sure there wasn’t a coffeehouse up there. As is often the case in science, attempting to falsify something often leads to a wonderful discovery.

When I saw the name on the map, I had to call ahead and make sure that this was, in fact, a coffeehouse. Earth’s Delights is primarily a health food market specializing in down-home organic fare. I could tell that the woman on the phone had a bit of an accent, but I couldn’t quite place it. When I finally made the trek over hill and dale to reach the shop, the mystery was solved: It was Pennsylvania Dutch. Earth’s Delights is yet another example of purely Amish ingenuity. Oh, and yes, there was indeed coffee to be had. This was a fortuitous find in that respect and an awesome continuation of our Amish coffee culture theme. Shockingly, Earth’s Delights has been a hidden gem for the past four years.

You might have noticed that I didn’t photograph the cafe’s exterior. That’s because there wasn’t much of a surface, to begin with. The building is quite austere; little more than a repurposed shack or small barn. The beauty is mostly inside (and in the surrounding fields, of course). Row after row of healthy food was in the offing. Not only organic food, but organic cleaning products dotted the shelves along with all manner of natural alternatives to industrial things. This plays into something we’ve touched on in previous entries: the unique intersection of rural and urban worlds that often takes place in these coffee shops. The conservative stereotype carries a disdain for sustainability. The stereotyped liberal cares little for agrarian tradition. Stereotypes are broken to pieces in rural coffeehouses like this.

“Right, right, but what about the coffee?” you’re probably shouting in vain at the screen by now. I tried to choose the closest thing to a house blend. The coffee-making infrastructure was limited; a simple black brewer on a wooden table was the whole of it. Yet, the bonnet-clad barista was an expert. She deftly worked the machinery to produce a rich brew. When I saw the darkness of the liquid as it dripped, I knew something good was coming. I inquired as to the brand of coffee being used and received a very pleasant surprise. It hailed from an all-too-familiar region: Lancaster, PA. Nearby Gordonville, to be precise. The brand is called “PA Dutch Coffee Company.” The roast I had was Colombian. Oddly, there was neither cream nor sugar available, so I had to drink it straight black. That was no impediment because the roast itself had a buttery and savory mouthfeel along with a floral flavor which more than compensated for the lack of traditional additions.

All said, the trip from Duncannon to Blain was exhausting but well worth it. This jaunt also underscored a strange fact of the PA coffee world: how much of it is unknown. Earth’s Delights has been here for years, and it never showed up on Google searches and wasn’t mentioned by any of my friends in the coffee world. Come to think about it, that’s also a happy facet of the Pennsylvania coffee scene. There are still unknowns. There are still genuinely worthy places (like this) that aren’t on the physical, digital, or cognitive maps of coffee culture. As I stood there in the bare-walled, frill-free coffee shop chatting with the Amish woman and a fellow patron over a steaming cup of local craft beans, I understood that as much as I want people to know about places like this, I hope they never become hip.

the sign…

the offerings…

the roast…

the garden…

the countryside…

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.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

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.