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After getting my fill of Rich Coast fare, it was time to head out to Lewistown proper. The two coffee shops I wanted to visit were mercifully both on the same street. It’s a testament to the strength of the coffee culture here that two coffee shops are able to occupy not only the same street but the same stretch of the street without knocking each other out of business. I decided not to chance parking on Main Street itself and instead chose an adjacent street that was already pointed back to the highway. That would end up being a good decision. The first truth of Lewistown that I discovered was that parking was five cents for an hour. Coming from Harrisburg where it’s a quarter per 15 minutes, that was a pleasant surprise.

The coffeehouse I walked to first was called East End Coffee Company. That’s not just a name, they do roast their own proprietary coffee. More on that later. Getting here was enough of an adventure. It turns out that Google Maps doesn’t understand Lewistown very well, especially not the fact that the buildings in the downtown square are mostly stuck together into one large edifice. It took a few tries, but I finally found the storefront a few hundred feet from where good ol’ Google promised it was.

It certainly looks like art matters here. The shop has the “vibe” of a community art center, and indeed there is regular activity here in that regard. I’m talking about the big “E” word: Events. I take them wherever I can find them, and you can find them here every first Friday of the month. On those days, a local musician typically comes to perform. On April 1st, a fellow named Tim Dunmire who performs at local churches will be playing. That’s another thing; even though there were no overt signs of religiosity in the coffeehouse itself, it’s clear that being churchgoing folk is just kind of a given up here in Mifflin County. That’s another contrast to Harrisburg. As cosmopolitan as the town is becoming in terms of visitors, the guiding ideals of it are clearly still small-town Pennsylvania.

As for the coffee, what’s the one, specific kind of coffee I never like to have? The one that just isn’t my style at all? If you’ve been reading this blog for a while, you’ll know. I’m really not a fan of the citrus-flavored fare typical of Africa. I appreciate the art, but it’s just not my personal preference. This roaster broke that streak with their Rwanda Misozi Kopakaki (try saying that three times fast). The label read “exceptionally sweet with big fruit notes.” Bingo on all counts, and it’s a dang good thing that they miraculously managed to balance the two. That is the culinary equivalent of a high-wire act, and East End absolutely nailed it. The citrus flavor was much stronger than I thought I’d enjoy, but there was a richness to the bean taste itself that melded the citrus seamlessly into it. It imparted an acidity without leaving me feeling like I was guzzling orange juice, which is what the label had me afraid of. It’s unique offerings like this that keep me energized for these small, local coffee scenes.

It’s worth mentioning that this isn’t the only storefront East End has. There’s another one in Reedsville. That’s pretty close to Lewistown since it’s still in Mifflin County. I might check it out if I have a chance, but the rest of the Alleghenies region comes first.

And with that, we’re heading down the street exactly one and a half blocks to the next coffeehouse of interest: The Square Cafe and Bakery. I’ll be posting that update in a few days and including some last-minute notes about the area as a whole. Until next time, stay caffeinated.

the approach…

the storefront…

the relaxation…

the beans…

the potential copyright issues…

OK, folks, we’re going to be tackling this one in chunks. By “this one,” I mean the whirlwind tour I took of the Lewistown area on March 10th. I’m writing this on March 13th and I still can’t believe that it’s only been two days since I ventured up the road. Once again, I ended up sandwiched between two bouts of bad weather. A few days before I set out, it had been 78 degrees but incredibly windy. Now, as I sit here typing, there’s snow on the ground outside and the wind is fiercely blowing the now-arctic air about. This trip is very much a monument to serendipity.

I took the same route (322) that I did to go to Walnut Cheese Nook. Lewistown is only a few miles further down the road, but that road winds up through the mountains. The Alleghenies loom like grounded asteroids on either side of my car, hazy ridgelines stretching out of sight to places I’ve never been. It’s time to go to some of these places. Lewistown is a good place to start because the town really is a regional lynchpin. It’s the seat of Mifflin County and is located about halfway between the state capital of Harrisburg and the storied Happy Valley and its city of State College. We all know the home of Penn State, and I’d be shocked if some folks didn’t think it was the capital.

What immediately struck me as I made the final few miles was just how cosmopolitan this area is! The billboards advertising diamond rings and other finery reminded me of that stretch of the highway immediately before New York City. In retrospect, it shouldn’t have been a surprise given that State College is only a few dozen miles to the northwest. Hundreds of thousands of people pass through this town on their way there any given Sunday of autumn. Whether or not it’s changed the character of Lewistown’s residents themselves is a matter of some debate. More on that later.

My goal was Rich Coast Coffee. Rich Coast has a long history in this area, having been in business since 1978. They supply coffee to several local establishments, both in Lewistown itself and up in State College, where I’m sure the student appetite for coffee must be voracious. Mine was (and is). Hence Rich Coast’s longevity, no doubt. See, it’s rather interesting that there are so many coffee options in a town of under nine thousand people. That made me increasingly sure that the local coffeehouse culture is driven in large part by the economic (and academic) perpetual motion machine that is Penn State University.

When I found Rich Coast, two thoughts came to mind: First, it’s located right next to a brewery which is awesome. Second, there probably wouldn’t be an actual coffeehouse inside. This was confirmed as I walked in and saw the gigantic warehousing system that makes up most of the otherwise unassuming building. The woman at the counter looked at me apprehensively as I gazed around the room looking for any hints that coffee was brewed and was apparently one of the few people within a decent radius who had never heard of it. She came around once I explained the mission and the blog. People like blogs!

I bought the Original Waffle Shop and the Happy Valley. Unfortunately, I had to wait until I got home to brew the coffee myself before tasting and reviewing it. I decided on the Waffle Shop since it sounded especially distinctive. Only rarely in the course of this journey has the package description been spot-on. This was one of those times. I immediately picked up on the peach and citrus flavors lingering in the background. For a Colombian, it was surprisingly light on its feet. Again, the packaging called it “delicate” and I’d agree. I initially thought I’d misjudged and made it too weak. I was gratefully mistaken. I gave it a minute and the myriad flavors coalesced nicely. Fun fact: The Waffle Shop is apparently a fixture in State College. It might be worth a look, though that will be in a different series of posts likely far in the future.

From here, we’re heading into Lewistown proper. Pay attention: This is where the chunks come in. The next two legs of this single journey will play out over the next two posts, consisting of two coffeehouses and a lot of local scenery. I’ll be posting them throughout March, typically a few days apart. April or May is going to take me further into the mountains I hope, around Huntingdon County. I’m not going to Altoona though…because we already know it has a coffee culture! I want to see if any of the small towns in the mountains have little bohemias. I’ve got a feeling that’s where the story is. Until then, stay caffeinated.

the road…

the entrance…

the funky beans…

the endless warehouse…

the merch…

Today’s leg of the trip began on a rather ominous note. The day was Monday, January 21. The temperature was around 50 degrees, the sky was blue, and I hadn’t forgotten anything. In other words, it was a bit too perfect. I half expected the check engine light to come on the minute I pulled out of the driveway, but that didn’t happen either. So with a bit of trepidation regarding this unusually good fortune, I began my first official drive into the Alleghenies region. If you’re at all an acrophobe (afraid of heights, that is), Route 22/322 North is not for you. Winding up out of the Susquehanna River Valley, it takes you above the Juniata River Valley…far above.

We’re clearly headed into the Allegheny region now; there’s no mistaking that as ears begin popping and stratified cliffsides carved from the mountains adorn the long road northwest. The mountains here are far higher than they are in Dauphin County, the trees looking for all the world like hair on the humps of some enormous camel. Unfortunately for our eyes (though perhaps fortunately for our knees) the Appalachian Trail bypasses this range to the east. The view from the car will have to do.

Walnut Cheese Nook is actually near the tiny (and apparently largely Amish or Mennonite) villages of Walnut and Nook. It’s hard to get information on them because there isn’t a Wikipedia entry on either. Pennsylvania is full of places that has blessedly been spared the attention of the information age. No, we’re not considering ourselves the information age here on this blog. Both villages lie nestled in a valley in between two high ridges located to the west of Mifflintown. In fact, a shop here carried the moniker “Twin Ridges,” so it might be what the locals call this area. Don’t quote me on that.

The building housing this coffee shop/house of cheese/general store/restaurant seemed to constitute the entirety of downtown Walnut. That’s actually quite handy; there’s one little plaza where everyone seems to congregate and it has all the amenities. There were far more people here than I thought there would be. I was not the only customer, and though the store and cafe also house a lovely little dining area, the fact remains that it’s in a valley with a small city on one end and nothing of note on the other. Was everyone here a local, or is the coffee just that good? Here’s another cultural conundrum: The barista, Katie, asked for the URL of this blog when I told her about it. Many people here are obviously farmers and apparently reject modernity to some degree, but these farmers are savvy about the rest of the world. They’re traditional and religious, but also knowledgeable and open. In fact, religion was on full display. They’re not a Christian coffeehouse per se, but the crosses and a few politically provocative posters suggested faith was a motivating factor.

The coffee she gave me was quite a surprise. I’m familiar with this brand. It was Square One out of Lancaster. The barista didn’t tell me what the house blend was exactly because I foolishly forgot to ask, owing to the fact that small talk takes actual processing power for me. The Myers-Briggs tells me I’m an INFJ, and we tend to space out when confronted with the mundane. That would certainly be my life experience. Anyhow, the taste was shockingly smooth. I’m calling it right now, this was a Guatemalan. I’ve only ever gotten this nice nutty aftertaste from Latin coffees, and Guatemalans have constituted a plurality of them, I’m sure of it. The official advert says it’s supposed to taste like “berry jam, pound cake, and black tea.” I’ll see you on the pound cake; the rest was debatable. It certainly was the kind of coffee you roll on your tongue a few times to get the full impact. Nicely done, Walnut folk.

After leaving Walnut, I headed back east through Mifflintown, but I couldn’t resist the urge to travel a bit further. I went all the way to the valley on the other side of the Juniata River. Geologically, it could probably be considered the same valley. The goal was a town called McAlisterville. I’ve never been here, but I’ve heard it mentioned in conversation as a good place to live. On the map, it was a dot at the crossing of several different roads, so I figured there had to be something here. It was so fascinating; there was a mix of rough-looking old townhouses from the coal-cracker days and brand new tract housing on the opposite end of town. There was also a giant church (which you can see below) and a small downtown area. I like when there’s a downtown, even a small one. Something about the need for a tiny bit of urban reality in the midst of rural reality. Yes, I firmly believe that a place needs both to feel really human.

And with that, I began the much less harrowing trip back down into the Susquehanna Valley. The southbound route actually hugs the Juniata, which is something of a comfort. After visiting the Walnut Cheese Nook, I get why people go far out of their way to visit. It’s a blend of cosmopolitan and local that’s worth taking a few extra minutes on the highway to partake of. Oh, that’s another thing: Don’t expect people to go anywhere close to the speed limit on the backroads to Walnut and Nook. They may as well be polite suggestions. Katie gave me a hint as to where I should go next: The Square Cafe in Lewistown. In fact, I’m going to several places at once in Lewisburg and plan to make it the core of this particular journey. A whirlwind tour, as they say. Until then, stay caffeinated…

the sign…

the lot…

the mantle…

the message…

the corner…

the books in the corner…

the next valley over…

a lovely town…

There’s a bit of a debate here. According to the official Pennsylvania visitors maps, the region called “The Alleghenies” is defined by counties. A separate map that I saved from another visitor’s site showed much the same, but without the county lines. Where exactly does “The Alleghenies” region begin? Perry County, the southernmost “official” county, is bordered on its north by a long lump of a ridge. Demographically speaking, mountains make better borders than anything. So if a region is defined by its human element, then things become more clear. The Alleghenies start just right there.

But what about the borderlands? What of the people who make their homes just a few miles on the other side of the border? Well, you often find a hybrid of the two ways of life on either side. That’s indeed what Sherman’s Valley holds. The town of New Bloomfield, the seat of Perry County, lies right in this borderland. I’ve sampled the coffee here before in a few earlier posts, but I didn’t go further afield than the town itself. Venturing out into the countryside produced a different result. See, this area belongs to two worlds: The world of the mountains that rise up to the center of the state, and the valleys that house the largest and oldest Amish communities in the world. It’s part Lancaster and part Penn State. And in a way, that makes this area as Pennsylvania as it gets. That also makes it the perfect start for this leg of the Journey.

I have a confession to make right here and now: There is no coffeehouse here. There is only a coffee roaster run out of somebody’s abode. I had to order the coffee online. Amazingly it arrived within a day and a half without me even expediting the order. The coffee is, in fact, roasted on the same day it’s shipped. More on that later. Instead, I saw what looked like a farmhouse on Google Maps that was labeled with the company name and decided to track it down. It was indeed a farmhouse, as evidenced by the random chickens in the driveway. I drove by and snapped some pictures; since this is clearly someone’s house I didn’t feel right just barging in. Driving past the house taking pictures is much less sketchy.

The coffee itself was a Papua New Guinea Vienna dark roast. Vienna roasts have a deeper color than most American ones. It’s typically a longer roast, and this can be seen in the little spots of oil that tend to accumulate on the bean. If this sounds like it’s adding up to a bold flavor, you’d be right. There was a bold aroma too. That’s actually an understatement; I could smell the coffee right through the yellow packing envelope. Papua New Guinea coffees are known for being full-bodied, and some even use that nebulous word “earthy” to describe them. The roast and source magnified each other perfectly in this case and made for a powerhouse cup of coffee.

Once again, I’ve ended up singing the praises of a small, independent roasting company in the middle of the countryside. It really does remind me of Appalachian Mountain Coffee located up in Snyder County owned by Merle and Linda Zimmerman. Could this place be vying for third? Absolutely. Let’s do the tally so far: St. Thomas Roasters in Harrisburg is my current favorite (owing to its refined flavors), followed closely by Appalachian Mountain (for its succulence and wildly imaginative palette). Interesting that they’re all roasters that have next to zero notoriety for being coffee mavericks. Let’s change that, shall we, readers?

After doing my stalkerish drive-by of Sherman’s Valley Coffee, I thought I’d be remiss if I didn’t also visit the nearest town. That would be Elliotsburg, a village on the way to the town of Blain (which is known for its awesome hippie music festivals). Sherman’s Valley is itself a long stretch of farmland in between two sets of rolling, forested hills. Endless country roads that might as well be boasting to the world “Yeah, we make literally all of your food.” That’s something worth appreciating. New Bloomfield is like Elliotsburg writ large. It’s a practical, working-class town of farmers and the industries that support them. Unlike New Bloomfield, there are no fancy cafes or government buildings. There is, however, a local art establishment of some kind called “1892 unrefined.” Now that sounds promising.

Next stop: Nook. I’m not surprised if you haven’t heard of it. It’s a tiny town situated snugly at the end of a long valley to the west of Mifflintown, PA. Unlike Elliotsburg and New Bloomfield, it’s indisputably part of the Allegheny Mountains region. Until that time, stay caffeinated!

the roast…

the roaster…

the aforementioned chickens…

elliotsburg…

With Elysburg in the rearview, I started on the last leg of this whirlwind tour of the Valleys’ coffee scene. Well, most of it. Actually, I didn’t get to a few of the places that I wanted to, but that was a function of timing. No, not the timing of the impending storm, the timing of the hours of the coffeehouses themselves. All told, more than a few had truly bizarre hours, or at least they were advertising as much. The Grindstone, for example, sounded awesome, but it was only open Wednesday through Friday, 8 AM to 11 AM. Hard to tell if it’s a function of safety regulations, a weird hiring market, or a lack of demand. It could honestly be the latter; after all, as we’ve seen before, this is a land in transition and a coffee culture that’s just beginning to find its footing in a growing and changing landscape.

When I pulled out of Elysburg and headed towards Sunbury, I passed through a few other small towns and villages on the way. I just recently learned that one of those towns (Paxinos, which you’ll see below) was home to some of the first members of my family to settle in Pennsylvania, back in the mid-to-late 1700s. No matter how small the towns are here, there is always an amazing amount of history. There isn’t, however, an amazing amount of coffee, at least not the kind of shops we’re looking for on this journey. Dunkin Donuts and diners rule the day here. Some of the non-college towns are actually shrinking as more young people head to the cities looking for work and adventure.

Sunbury is one of those shrinking towns, unfortunately. However, it’s also growing in many ways. The population is decreasing, but the people still here might be of a changing character. As I drove through the center of town, I was struck by the number of head shops and other places catering to a more bohemian set than one would expect in the center of Amish country. Oh, they had euphemistic names of course. Specialty glass, metaphysical shop, CBD oil. Wink wink. The point is that the attitude on the counterculture seems to be changing. Or perhaps it’s that, in a town of fewer than ten thousand people with farms all around, the free spirits really do stick out more. Maybe they want to stick out more.

Anyhow, on to the coffeehouse. I trudged down the ice-rimed streets to Little Addy’s, a cafe built into one of the rowhome-style buildings in the bustling downtown. It was really cozy, and I was immediately greeted by Addy herself. I asked a barrage of questions about the place. She was only too happy to answer. This venue was, like the entire area…in transition. She said that over the next few months they planned to move the coffeehouse from its current abode to a nearby space with around three times the square footage. From 900 to 2600 I think she said. Now that’s progress! I asked Addy if there were any plans for live music (keeping my fingers crossed invisibly) and she said yes. Once again, a return trip to this area in the near future is in order.

The coffee she gave me was a single-origin Nicaraguan, courtesy of Stockton Graham & Co., a specialty wholesaler out of Raleigh, North Carolina. Now, this was one that I unquestionably liked. It behooves a taster to grow to appreciate the art of coffees they wouldn’t personally purchase, but this one I would definitely get again. It had exactly what I look for in a ‘normal’ Central American roast: that rich, nutty-but-not-earthy quality and buttery consistency. If anyone out there has been to Stockton Graham & Co. I’d appreciate any feedback on your experiences with the brand.

And with that, I headed out as the first cirrus heralds of tomorrow’s storm began to filter into the afternoon sky. On the way back to Harrisburg, I whizzed past another coffeehouse that I’d visited a few years ago before I dedicated myself to doing an actual, systematic tour of the Valleys area. It’s called Eagle’s Wind. Really beautiful place, located right on the Golden Strip outside Sunbury, where many years ago young people drag-raced up and down the empty road which is now crammed with traffic headed north and south. My next mission will be to head west into the Allegheny Mountains. I’ve only been up there for coffee once, to the Guante Cafe in Millerstown. Next month, I plan to go a little farther afield. Until then, stay caffeinated!

the mountains beyond Paxinos…

the signage…

the interior…

the nomenclature…

Read the rest of this entry »

I woke up this morning (January 19th) riddled with anxiety. I knew it was now or never to begin Leg Two of the Valleys of the Susquehanna journey that I’d started before the holiday craziness. Pennsylvania had just been pummeled by one winter storm and the electronic signs on the freeway were already blinking: Winter Weather Advisory Thursday AM, Plan Travel Accordingly. So today it would be. A gorgeous, blue Wednesday sandwiched in between the storms.

We’ll be starting things off in the little town in Elysburg, home to my cousin, a radio station, and not much else. It’s not technically a town, being officially termed a “census-designated place.” There’s the awesome Knoebel’s Grove Amusement Park nearby, which is what everyone around these parts associates with Elysburg. The town itself sits in the middle of a lush valley just south of the eastern branch of the Susquehanna River. The river forks just north of Sunbury to the west, which makes this whole area the heart of the Valleys region. Beautiful, bucolic…and as we saw last month, full of burgeoning college towns. Bloomsburg University, in fact, is less than ten miles from Elysburg itself. I’d go so far as to call “college” an industry in this area. It’s populated enough to be convenient but isolated enough to be peaceful. I hope that’s a balance that lasts.

There is also coffee here, and good coffee at that. The name of the cafe I decided up was itself impressive: Profile Coffee and Roasters, Inc. Sounds artistic. Understand, Elysburg is a town without a downtown, or at least without much of one. I’d expected townhouses and clustered shops, but it’s really quite spread out like an old Appalachian holler often is. People here are farmers and workers, not college kids and hipsters. Profile sticks out like a sore thumb. It actually feels like the nucleus of what could one day become a downtown. It embodies “downtownness,” from the funky lettering on the stately brick edifice, to the advertisement of its commitment to LGBT rights displayed on its Google Maps offering. There’s intent here. Intent to make this business a center of something.

As a matter of fact, progress was very much on display inside the shop. I came at an inauspicious moment; the common room was in a state of disarray, and as I was standing at the counter, an elderly chap put one hand on each of my arms and shuffled me out of the way before an incoming stainless-steel counter on the move could flatten me. They’re obviously scaling up. They seemed surprised that someone even had the poor timing to stop by in the middle of this. Being caught off guard didn’t dampen their hospitality one bit, however, and I was quickly given a fresh brew.

The coffee I got was Brazilian. Now, Brazilian coffees are often known for their unique flavors and low acidity. The good thing about low acidity coffee is that it has a smooth finish. It also tends to be described as “bright,” and that’s how I’d describe this particular roast. Low-acid coffees also lean towards being slightly bitter, and this one was, but not on the level of an ultra-bitter robusta. That’s oftentimes the “bitter diner coffee” that I whine about. No, this bitterness was dialed back by an almost airy quality. Really, when I used the word “bright” before I was right on track. This was a lovely breakfast blend. You can tell immediately that it’s a local roaster since the flavor palette is unlike the more common blends used at the restaurants in the surrounding countryside. Again, a charming morning cup. I couldn’t get any more information because, well…it was sheer chaos in there. I’ll have to follow up.

Here’s something else about Profile and Elysburg that struck me: They are another study in contradictions like the towns in the western valleys. The folks doing the renovations inside were fascinating; one was clearly a non-conformist, while another proudly displayed a “Blue Lives Matter” t-shirt. And they weren’t trying to strangle each other. How fitting that this cosmopolitan crowd would come together in a coffeehouse! Again, this Enlightenment-era institution comes through as a force for civility. Civil respect is more common than you might think around here in these polarized times. At worst, a look askance and a “bless your heart” are far more common than genuine bigotry in the Pennsylvania countryside. The reasons that people vote the way they do are actually nuanced and complicated, but one would never guess that by scrolling through the feed on one’s computer screen. That’s why travel is good. It’s not about getting out of the house. It’s about getting out of yourself.

And with that, I’m heading down the road to Sunbury. If Williamsport is the informal “capital’ of the Pennsylvania Wilds region, Sunbury is undoubtedly the same for the Valleys area. Oh yes, we’ll be going to the Wilds eventually, but for now, we’re headed to the ancestral homeland of my family and the cultural center of Northumberland County. I’ll be posting that in a few days. Until then, stay caffeinated.

the building…

the entrance…

the copious shelving…

the scrabble…

the town center…

Hey readers, just checking in to say Happy Holidays, Merry Christmas, Joyous Yule, a beautiful Solstice, and Io Saturnalia. Did I cover all the bases? Yeah? OK, good. Well, due to the general craziness of the holiday season, I’m waiting until the second week of January to kick off Leg Two of the journey into the valleys of the Susquehanna River’s tributaries and the unique coffee culture that’s developing in fits and starts within this bulwark of Appalachian insularity. The hope is that a week after New Year’s, things will be calm enough around here to hit the road with a fresh stock of supplies and a new set of potential spots.

Lucky for me (and you) that I still managed to find exotic coffee right in the suburbs of Harrisburg in an unexpected place: Zimmerman’s Candies. Few Harrisburgers even seem to know where it is, but when you explore the winding streets of Paxtang, you never know what you’ll find. This place is a throwback to the old days of Harrisburg in the 1960s when there were shops everywhere and potholes nowhere. It’s a serious candy lover’s candy shop, with beautiful, multicolored treats and a melange of smells that must be something akin to what Santa’s workshop smells like.

And then there’s the coffee. Unexpectedly, there’s a whole shelf of their proprietary coffee called Zimmerman’s Rose Garden Coffee. Who the heck knew? Well, now I do, and you do too. This particular one was a Guatemalan. Obviously, I went for it because of my proclivity for South American blends, especially new or rare ones. I expected the typical richness and full mouthfeel, but instead, I found something quite different and wonderful. It all started when I opened the package and had to do a double-take (or double-whiff). There was an unmistakable scent of citrus, burned wood, and flowers. Citrus you usually see in African blends, but here it was, smack-dab in the middle of the bouquet of a Suramericano. Funny enough, it vanished in my first sip, replaced by those floral notes. They were persistent and they sort of rotated on the tongue. It was truly unique. Just when I think this city has run out of secrets…

So there we go. A little treat to tide you all over until I head back up the river and into the mountains to seek new brews and new adventures. Until then, stay caffeinated and have a happy holiday!

the brew…

the storefront…

the signage…

the grounds…

Happy Thanksgiving, caffeine fiends! It’s time for leg two of this sojourn up the western valleys of the Susquehanna. The leg in question has already been accomplished of course, but with the holiday craziness it’s taken me until now to have time to do the trip justice in writing. From my last port of call in Middleburg, I decided to go over the hill to the next valley where lay the town of Mifflinburg. I have no idea what that valley is called. Before getting to the town itself, while I was still atop that hill, I took in a really incredible sight: a bright yellow valley stretching out before me with a massive, blue ridge rising in the distance. Ironic that this ridge is called “Little Mountain” because it’s anything but little. In fact, it basically marks the end of the Valleys region of Pennsylvania and the beginning of the Pennsylvania Wilds. That’s a journey for a future day.

Mifflinburg is another Pennsylvania contradiction. While Middleburg belongs firmly to the world of the rural proletariat, Mifflinburg is a town with a foot in two different realms. A land of bucolic farms on one hand and the recipient of regular travel from the burgeoning college town of Lewisburg. There are artistic murals…and people who don’t care much about hippies. There are trendy breweries (more on that later)…and people who like their beer and everything else traditional. The thing about towns in the process of change is that they tend to produce excellent coffee. Mifflinburg is no different.

The location of this coffeehouse gave me a bit of a pause for concern. It was in an otherwise nondescript little shopping plaza part of the way between Mifflinburg and Lewisburg, but much closer to the former. How classy could a coffeehouse in a shopping plaza be? Well, plenty classy actually. You walk in and emerge into a sort of garden party in media res. There’s greenery, pretty hardwood decor, and an upscale dining room. It was like a venue you’d see on an episode of Gilmore Girls. Not that I watched Gilmore Girls. No, of course not. So, I walked up to the spacious counter and in a lovely departure from the all-too-common medial paranoia, the barista Katrina gave me a choice of several coffees that I could dispense myself.

I find that I overuse the word “buttery” to describe very smooth and rich South American blends and non-harsh French roasts. Well, too bad, it fits the profile of the mouthfeel here to a T. It’s a mark of good coffee when it complements the condiments that you add. In other words, if, when you put in milk and sugar you get an enhancement of the flavor rather than tasting sugar and milk alone, you’ve got yourself a well-crafted brew. D.C. makes a well-crafted brew. This one actually was a French roast by Dilworth Coffee. Dilworth itself is based in North Carolina, so to find it in Pennsylvania is somewhat surprising. They’re one of those up-and-coming outfits slowly spawning new locations; if they’re considering Pennsylvania, that would be nice, but I’ll certainly take running into their fare randomly.

Having had my uppers, on the way back out of town, I went on a side quest for downers. By that, I mean beer. And by beer, I mean the Rusty Rail Brewing Company. I had to try it because it’s famous. And here’s another example of the dual nature of many Central PA towns: I found a gorgeous reclaimed factory building loaded with absolutely scrumptious craft beer and staffed by kind, responsive, committed hepcats who surely know bands I can’t pronounce. Upstairs, however, stood a frankly horrifying display of stuffed trophy animals that were clearly hunted for reasons other than food. The cat was, at least. The moose might have become a steak, but not the kitty. I’m painting a mental picture of the person responsible as I look at the bodies. Bet you are too.

Contrast. Light and shadow. That’s what Mifflinburg is. Progressive, regressive, equal, and free. It’s agrarian and urban and trying to find itself in an ever-shifting world. I find a strange brew of ideals in these small towns. I found some strange and wonderful brews of other sorts too. I hope that I’ll be able to head up the other side of the river, into the valleys around Herdon and Dalmatia in a few weeks. Haven’t heard of those places? You will. Until next time, stay caffeinated.

the awning…

the seating…

the cozy nook…

the good stuff…

Inertia is a bastard. Between my trip to Liverpool and here it’s been a month of my subconscious mind finding excuses not to get out of bed or do things other than work. Which I also do from bed because I’m a writer. Finally, a Thursday ago, I ran out of reasons. The day was gorgeous; 65 degrees and sunny in the middle of November in the middle of Pennsylvania. I felt like God was prodding me to get on the road, so that’s exactly what I did.

The town of Middleburg, Pennsylvania is nestled two valleys north of the valley containing Liverpool. It’s up in Snyder county, not far off of 11/15, smack in the middle of the Pennsylvania that few travelers ever see. Warning signs for Amish buggies abound, and the mountains rise in folds around you. Is the name of this town familiar? It should be. I reviewed a coffeehouse here years ago called Middle Creek Cafe. Since then, the coffeehouse culture in Middleburg has grown. Given the proximity to the college town of Selinsgrove, this isn’t too surprising. In fact, the tendency of coffee lifeways to spread laterally to more isolated towns from ones more connected to the world at large is a theme I’ve been taking note of.

Sweet N’ Savory, also known as Brooke’s Cafe Baking and Catering, is a very recent addition to the community. They opened during what was arguably the worst time in a century to open a business: October of 2020. Yikes. The fact that they managed to not just survive but to carve out a niche alongside another coffeehouse in the same small town is impressive enough. What’s even gutsier is their expansion plan. By next summer they hope to have their patio finished and bands coming. Now, that’s the kind of relentless commitment to progress I like to see.

Here’s an interesting thing: the coffee itself seems to take a backseat here to the baked goods (which did smell rather delicious). OK, so the coffee had the familiar tang of diner fare. That’s because it was. In a certain way. My drink was a gourmet craft diner-style coffee called, quite appropriately, “Donut Coffee.” The taste can only be described as an elevated version of the kind of coffee that one usually does encounter at a donut shop. There’s little subtlety on display but plenty of boldness, leading me to think that the origin company used pure Arabica. The point of making this kind of coffee is to complement the food you’re serving without overpowering it; to let the beauty of the baking shine through while getting the taste buds charged with warm refreshment on a cold day. Yes, coffee-and-food pairings are definitely an art, just like wine and cheese. I’ll need to come back here, but with an empty stomach next time so I can see this tactic properly on display.

Stopping here was not the end of my journey today. In fact, the threatened rainstorm was holding off, so I looked at the hill to the north of me and thought: Why not? Why not continue on to the next valley and see what the coffee there is like? The sign said it was only nine miles to Mifflinburg, a larger rural town adjacent to college-town Lewisburg. Would the pattern I was starting to see hold? I’ll post my next installment in a few days. Until then, stay caffeinated.

the signage…

the bakery…

the coffee…

the best kind of corner…

And so it continues, this little tour of the valleys of the Susquehanna River and their coffeehouse culture. Yes, they do have one, and you’re about to see it. This journey is going to be a bit disjointed, I’m warning you. The “Valleys of the Susquehanna” is a named region in Pennsylvania and doesn’t include nearly half of the ridge-and-valley terrain that makes up so much of the state. Sometimes I’ll be exploring outside of the defined region, especially since some really impressive coffeehouses are found in the tiny villages of remote “hollers” far from the Susquehanna and its tributaries.

Shine Coffee Company, on the other hand, is located right at the southernmost edge of the official Valley region in the smallish town of Liverpool. I did some counting on the maps, and it’s actually the second of a series of small valleys heading north along the river. Hunter’s valley is the first, but contains little besides a picturesque winery and some farms. Our Liverpool does look very much like a British town, especially one of those northern towns that often takes the shape of a line of multicolored homes and shops lining the shore of a river. Shine opened in late 2020, moving into an historic building in the center of town overlooking the river. That alone shows the spirit that went into this operation and the burgeoning market for not just coffee but artistically done coffee in the region.

OK, first interesting thing: There was Christian rock playing on the radio. Not typical for a coffeehouse in Harrisburg. I had to ask if this was a Christian coffeehouse specifically. It’s not; it’s just run by Christians who clearly use their spirituality as a motivating to succeed and create. I normally don’t review religious coffeehouses or chain coffeehouses, or really any coffeehouse with some kind of mission other than coffee, but I would have made an exception here if one had to have been made. I’ve only done that once before (with the incomparable and unfortunately long-gone Hagia Sophia coffeehouse of Harrisburg, if you remember). As it turns out, the music was from a local Christian music group that partnered with the coffeehouse to showcase their tunes. They were quite good, and God is certainly a good reason to sing. Apparently, some holiday events are in the works, and this is a truly gorgeous venue for events. Rustic without being cloying is a hard balance to strike, but the design team sure did manage it.

The coffee they served me was craft brew, obvious from the outset. It tasted especially fresh (fitting, since I got the first of a newly-brewing batch), and there was a sort of mineral quality to it that I still can’t put a precise name to. I thought at first that it was an effect of the cream, but no, this was unique to the roast or the bean itself. Then I realized something. This is Denim Coffee! Again, dipping back into history here, I reviewed Denim long ago at their Shippensburg headquarters. Their coffee is becoming something of a local institution. This particular roast was their Sol Naciente, a Colombian. It was lighter than I’d expected from a Colombian! Probably because this one was “hot off the presses” so to speak and also it was breakfast time in the country where light fare is de rigeur.

On to the next cup! This place makes a timely stopover for people heading north from Harrisburg towards Sunbury and Williamsport. Again, I have to point out the fact that there was no coffeeshop in this town, in spite of its pretty houses and used bookstore, until just last autumn. Communities are starting to see coffeehouses as a space that they need; a gathering spot for everyone. Ah, well, enough reflection. Until next time, stay caffeinated.

the front…

the cozy fireplace…

the patio…

the town center (centre?)

the secret ingredient…