My Morning Coffee & Writing Ritual

I've been fine-tuning my morning writing ritual since 2008. I like writing in the morning, preferably by the light of an oil lamp if it's the wee hours, and the coffee is as much a part of the process as the ink and notebook. 

Sometimes, I have tea. Sometimes, I'm in a car. Sometimes, I'm at a picnic table in a campground. Sometimes it's in a cafe. Sometimes, I don't write at all-- but that's quite rare these days. 

I call it a ritual rather than a routine because I have such a reverence for the block of time I spend making my the coffee and then writing. It helps me think. It helps me stay sane. It helps me figure things out, get grounded. It's a meditation practice. I've called the writing "morning crazy talk" and "morning dump." I go to sleep pretty excited about my morning dump. Maybe that's what helps me wake up early without an alarm: the anticipation for this rather pleasurable ritual.

There might be a few days every month or two when I do not do the morning writing, either by choice or by chance. Those days make me treasure my ritual even more.

My mode of coffee-ing has varied from making Vietnamese-style drip coffee with condensed milk, to using a French press, to a moka, to making cowboy coffee. This pourover method is the latest, and I have a feeling it's going to stick.

I take this ritual with me wherever I go. Friends expect to see me with my coffee kit now when I roll into town.  

Electric kettles only recently entered my life. And oh, how fantastic they are. I thought I wouldn't prefer them over a regular kettle, but I do. I do.

I fill it to the count of 20.

This particular kettle is in the Noble Hotel staff kitchen for NOLS instructors (and interns) passing through Lander.

This is the travel kit this time around:

- a manual coffee mill (babysitting it...)
- #4 drip cone and paper filter
- my favorite mug
- whole coffee beans

I keep a small amount of beans in the tin, and the rest in an airtight container. Freshness is key to good coffee. Along with process.

I use two tablespoons (sometimes heaping) of whole beans for an 8-9 ounce cup of coffee.

These beautiful beans are from Dark Horse Coffee Roasters in San Diego. I'd tell you which one it is, but you really should go down to your local roaster/coffee shop and check out their beans. Another favorite is Raxakoul in Berkeley.

Dark Horse has a shop in Truckee now. All the more reason to hang out in Donner Pass next summer.

So, I cultivate particularities. Such as this.

I like to fold the seams of my coffee filter so that it rests more snugly in the drip cone.

I'm not sure it actually works, but it gives me good feelings.

By the time I've gathered my coffee bits and folded my filter, the water has come to a boil.

I pour some into the cup to warm it.

I wet and warm the paper filter. I like to think it helps ease away paper flavors, and that it allows the coffee to flow through more tastily.

This process is much easier than a French press when camping because there's no need to wash anything.

I'm not sure whether the mass manufacture of these recycled, biodegradable filters uses more or less water than it would take for me to rinse out a re-usable filter each day. Thoughts?

While the water eases off the boil, I quickly grind the coffee.

I've counted the number of turns it takes. On average, it takes around 70 turns for my morning cup.

It is easiest to grind with the mill between your thighs.

Go head, snicker.

After I open the grinder, I usually take a deep, glorious whiff of the freshly ground beans. It's one of the best parts of the whole process.

I put the coffee into the cone and slowly pour in just enough hot water to soak them, watching the lovely, pale brown "bloom" appear.

When there is a creamy bloom such as this, I know the coffee is going to be good.

Once it subsides, I try my best to pour in the rest of the 8ish ounces in a slim stream, making sure to create turbulence all around the cone (more frothiness!). This part of the process can be mesmerizing, so be careful not to overfill the cone. This will lead to some over extraction or a weak cup, not to mention possible spillage.

It's happened to me a couple of times.


And then, voila. You have your cup. And it is beautiful.

My cup has a patina (stains). Please don't let that distract you from the fact that this is delicious.

Don't sip it too much too soon, though. You'll burn your tongue. And that will be sad.

I carefully take the steaming cup of coffee to my designated morning writing area, where I reverently take a few sips.

Then, the crazy talk begins.

The red hanky is there because I'm afraid of dripping ink on the table. I write with india ink of various colors. The pen is a wooden chopstick that I drilled a hole into. I wrapped it in electrical tape for grip. The notebook is from Art Alternatives.


And there it is. My mornings (mostly). I hope you create/nurture a ritual of your own that nourishes you. Maybe it doesn't involve writing, maybe it does. Maybe it involves caffeine, maybe it doesn't. What I do know, after six years of doing this, is that it feels really good to have at least a little time and space with your thoughts in the morning.

I started with just one page in a wide-rule notebook, and maybe twenty minutes. It all starts somewhere. All it takes it starting.

Further reading:

• Coffee Science: How to Make the Best Pourover Coffee at Home
• The Hidden Costs of Coffee

Budgeting for Indulgence // Good Coffee in Little Tokyo

In my first few months of working at East West Players, I bemoaned a lack of good coffee in Little Tokyo. A few months after that, I decided to try out the new coffee shop that took over the space that used to be a Cefiore yogurt shop. And I could no longer claim that there was no good coffee in the neighborhood. 

At first, I sort of scoffed at the idea of fancy LA Mill beans being used in what I think of as a humble Southeast Asian concoction of Cafe du Monde ground coffee with chicory, but Cafe Dulce's Vietnamese Iced Coffee is absolutely wonderful (as Tien noted on her LA Weekly blog, probably the best in Los Angeles proper). At $4.50 after tax, its definitely a once-a-week-or-less indulgence, but one well-worth budgeting for. 

Jar o' goodness sweating

Since I'm more of a sipper than a gulper when it comes to coffee, I bring my own jar so that I can screw on the cap (which I've checked to ensure non-leakiness) and stick it in my backpack as I bike around. Of course, the jar sweats a bit, so I put the jar inside another bag to keep the rest of my things from getting damp. Reminds me of those good ol' days bringing my Pom Wonderful glass to Lost Souls Cafe.

El Sereno Loses Antigua

In the short months that I spent living in El Sereno, I found a warm, happy home at Antigua Cultural Coffeehouse. It was a place that was vibrant with community, with a commitment to social justice and to good, fair trade, beautifully roasted coffee. I was drawn to the bright yellow and green interior from the first time I drove by, and when I finally entered, I was amazed by quality of the coffee there. Antigua was where I performed spoken word for the very first time in Los Angeles in November, during a benefit for AB540 students that was organized by the Coalition for Latino Advancement. Months after seeing him perform at UC Irvine, I ran into Quese IMC while he was taking advantage of the Wi-Fi in the cafe. Antigua was always filled with good people and good energy.

I am extremely disappointed that the property owners have deigned not to extend a lease renewal to Antigua. El Sereno will be no longer be home to one of LA's best coffeehouses and a three-year-old community hub. The bright side: another location will be opening in Cypress Park.

Antigua Cultural Coffee House
4386 Huntington Drive South
90032

Three Nights at Lost Souls

March has been insane and I haven't been able to go cafe-ing as I usually do during the week, but I guess I stocked up during the last week of February, when I went to Lost Souls three times.

Sunday, February 24th: Talking Drum (Open Mic Night)

There was an eclectic mix of singers and poets starting at around 7:30PM. There was a good energy to the crowd, and though there was definitely a sense of there being an "in crowd" of regulars as there always is at open mics, the atmosphere still seemed very friendly to newcomers.

Tuesday, February 26th: Touzie Tuesdays

Unfortunately I didn't get a picture of the DJ playing fun 50s (?) music while holding her adorable baby, but here is the infamous Nicanor: musician, barista, artist, and all-around friendly guy. He sat and shot the breeze with me about life and art and travel. He created that painting on the wall on the right.

Wednesday, February 27th: Hobo Soup


My most memorable Hobo Soup quote came from a song that went "there's more to life than eating a rice cake, you skinny bitch." I can't wait to go back next month to hear the eclectic mix of folk performers.

I have no idea when I'll finally be able to saunter over to Lost Souls Cafe again, but I am hoping that it will be soon.

Coffee & Donuts II: Startling Night

Last night turned out more perfectly than I could have imagined. The plan had been to get a donut from King Donuts and then send up a little prayer for Ollin Cafe to be open so that I could have my usual Thursday sugar and caffeine fix (about 10 hours late). I was close to not going through with it but I suppose the inertia of my initial desire was enough to keep me from turning toward home.

As I rode my bike around the corner of Hoover and Venice and Ollin Cafe came into view, I was saddened to see that its aluminum panels were closed, except for the ones at the entrance. It was only 8:00PM, but I wasn't surprised-- I hadn't really expected the plan to work out anyway, especially with the notoriously early closing times of most businesses in this part of town.

What surprised me was that when I came to take a closer look, the woman sitting inside came to the door and invited me in, offering to get me coffee even though they were closed. I told her that it was fine, that I didn't have to have coffee and that I'd come back when they were open, but she was so friendly and insistent that I couldn't just ride off again. She even let me bring my bicycle into the cafe.

It turns out that she was sitting inside waiting for her husband to pick her up, passing the time by watching television while making quinceañera center pieces with her mother-in-law. There were at least a dozen of the handmade creations sitting on the floor upstairs beyond the view of passers-by. Her name was Veronica and she was incredibly engaging; she offered me much more information about herself than I would have expected, was so open. She told me that the owner of Ollin Cafe is actually Lebanese and the Latin American theme of the restaurant sprung from his love of travel. Veronica also revealed to me more details of her life than I would have ever expected to hear. I suppose part of it may be due to the fact that I am a rather unthreatening-looking young woman, but even so, her openness and kindness warmed me.

Veronica didn't just let me in so that she could sell another cup of coffee-- she invited me in and urged me to have a sit and stay awhile. She made me a cafe au lait in the ceramic mug that I brought with me, and talked to me about things that I will not mention here, but which made me feel that fate had brought me to this place on this particular night-- that I had ended up in exactly where I should have.

She apologized for her English, to which I responded by apologizing for my lack of Spanish. She communicated with me beautifully. Her compassion and kindness were apparent and I think she spoke much more eloquently than she realized. After talking for a while longer, she returned upstairs to work on her centerpieces while I sat with my mug of coffee and the chocolate twist from King Donuts (which closes at around 9PM, contrary to their "Open 24 Hours" sign).


Veronica's husband arrived an hour or so later, but there was no rushing me out at all. When I did finally decide that it was time to leave and asked to rinse out my mug myself, she took it and not only rinsed it, but took completely unnecessary care in drying it for me. She continuously amazed me.

I thanked her profusely as I left, and she just kept saying that it was fine, "it's okay, my friend, good night." Incredibly, she even told me to just call ahead if I wanted to stop by another evening, and that she would wait for me. Amazing.

Sometimes I feel like I am a traveler in Los Angeles, wandering around Downtown with a backpack filled with not only a notepad or books, but a first aid kit, my own mug safety pins, and a canvas bag, among other miscellaneous items. I guess that in a way, I am living in this city like a backpacker-- I just happen to have a one-year lease on an apartment instead of one-month's booking at a hostel. Perhaps the best way to experience a place is to pretend that you are leaving it.

USC Students, venture northward and support this place, please! $1.00 Coffee 6AM-11AM! And there's Wi-Fi!











Ollin Cafe
1325 Venice Blvd. (just east of Hoover) -
90006
213-739-8969

Cost Summary:
Donut: $0.60
Coffee: $1.50
Total: $2.10

Coffee & Donuts I

I love taking detours on my morning commute and discovering things on the new path that I would never have come across otherwise.

I came across bright Ollin Cafe on one such detour last week. It was refreshing to see a bright cafe like this so far south of Downtown or Koreatown and north of USC. They serve decent Gavina coffee, and the inside is welcoming. I passed by the place at about 8PM on Friday and it was closed so I am guessing that this will be a day-time destination only until they gain more business and/or the neighborhood becomes more welcoming to it. It looks like with some time and support it could become my South of Downtown-equivalent of my beloved Antigua Cultural Coffeehouse in East LA.



This particular donut shop has become a weekly stop for me since I dropped in and bought a chocolate-glazed twist a couple of weeks ago while waiting for the Dunn-Edwards across the street to finish mixing paint for work.

I had a minor moment of revelation upon biting into that donut: it was ethereal and tender, and I had never before had a twist with anything other than a regular glaze or just sugar. I could have eaten ten of them.

Thursday breakfast indulgence (please ignore the office supplies in the background):


That raisin-custard roll was perfectly cooked. A rarity.

Ollina Cafe
1325 Venice Blvd.
90006

King Donuts
1955 S. Hoover St.
90007

Cost Summary:
Coffee: $1.00
Donut: $1.35
Total: $2.35

Parks, Sitting, Walking, & Coffee in the Financial District

I spent much of the day on Monday wandering downtown mostly on foot. I took the Dash to Grand Hope Park, which sits behind FIDM, then ambled the however-many blocks up to Central Library. I knew that the library was closed in honor of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.'s birthday, and the point of going there was just to have a sit in the Maguire Gardens which face Flower Street.

Not very many people were sitting on the half-dozen benches available in the gardens, and I was the only gal. I suppose not many people would venture into the park in January to just hang out, and even less so in Los Angeles, where young people tend to make a mass exodus to the mountains for weekend snowboarding. Somewhere in me there is a crotchety old man whining about "kids these days."

It was lovely to sit and watch the pigeons flutter about frantically for food, hear the skater-kids riding down the stairway leading up to the library, see the clouds drift behind the buildings and trade places with patches of blue sky. There were actually a few people milling about and talking, which was refreshing after the near-desolation of Grand Hope Park. (In a month or two I will hopefully have found a good and affordable digital camera so that I'll be able to post photos of these lovely things I see.)

I walked over to Figueroa and avoided the semi-monstrosity of 7th+Fig, ducking into the Wilshire Promenade food court. I got a coffee from Tierra Cafe, whose menu proclaims "Vegetarian cuisine, Organic Coffee and Tea House." I think they were just glad to have another customer on what was surely a desolate business day. The coffee was hot, though, which was the most important thing at the moment anyway.

Somehow-- blame it on the caffeine, maybe-- instead of hopping on the Dash F at Flower & 7th to get home, I decided to walk toward the Dash D stop at Olympic and Hill. The next thing I knew, I'd forgone transit entirely and instead found myself walking south on Broadway, determined to walk through the Dead Zone that starts at about Olympic or 11th Avenue, where there is nothing.

I did not see much as I walked down Broadway or Main south of Olympic. A few scattered little hole-in-the-wall taquerias, and the outskirts of the Fashion District along Main mostly offered socks and sports-enthusiast apparel.

I had timed it so that I wouldn't be walking past dusk, and I made it through the 2.5-mile trek just fine, though I did have a somewhat confusing exchange with a man at an intersection who babbled something and then offered me money. I just smiled and proceeded across the street. I've since decided that he was just seeing if I needed bus fare.

Tierra Cafe
818 Wilshire Blvd. #D
90017

Central Library
630 W. Fifth St.
90071

Route:
Dash D from Olive & Washington to 9th, then much aimless wandering northward, followed by more purposeful walking southward

Cost Summary:
Dash: $0.25
Coffee: $1.50
Total: $1.75

Lost Souls Cafe

For the coffee enthusiast (fanatic, fiend, addict), living this far south of downtown poses the horrifying threat of utter deprivation from a decent coffee experience. The only prepared cup of coffee to be found on or near this block, from what I have seen so far, is from either McDonald's, Burger King, or Subway. An important creature comfort for me is to be able to sip well-made coffee in a comfortable atmosphere close to home, and those three options certainly do not fit the bill by any stretch of the imagination.

When I lived in El Sereno, I was lucky enough to have Antigua Cultural Coffeehouse a very walkable 1.5 miles from my apartment. I had planned on venturing there again on Monday night despite the 8-mile drive for their almost mystical Mayan Mocha, but an announcement on Angelenic that Lost Souls Cafe had acquired a liquor license intrigued me enough that I decided to change my plans and keep my business in downtown instead. I convinced my friends Robbie and Jessica, themselves new Koreatown residents, to join me on my excursion to the cafe.

We took Metro bus 45 from the corner of Broadway and Washington to 4th and Broadway, and a short two-and-a-half block walk later we came upon the infamous gated alleyway through which the entrance to Lost Souls can be found. Inside we were greeted by an industrial/bohemian/urban atmosphere, with tulip-adorned cafe tables in the front of the space, sofas at the rear, exposed ventilation ducts above, string lights over the bar, and clamp lamps along the wall. An inviting array of board games and books were stacked on a few tables and low shelves among the sofas.

Beverages offered ranges from their "House Drip" coffee to iced teas to Kombucha to a variety of beers. I ordered the "Soul Drip," which is their House Drip plus condensed milk and half-and-half. Since I am accustomed to drinking my coffee with either one or the other, I was intrigued at the combination. The beverage had a good mouth-feel, and the sweetness of the condensed milk was tempered by the half-and-half. The true test will not come, though, until I try a regular latte or cappuccino.

On a Monday night, the place was far from bustling, and we three comprised half of the patrons that night. I imagine it to be much more lively on their many nights with events and on weekends. I'm glad we made it here and I'm excited to check it out again alone in the near future to see if this can become a home for me the way Antigua did.

Lost Souls Cafe
124 W. 4th St.
90013

Route:
Metro bus 45 from Broadway & Washington to Broadway & 4th.

Cost Summary:
Bus fare: 2.50 (round trip)
Soul Drip: 2.15 (small)
Total: $4.65