The first day left me feeling a little intimidated. All of the competitors were definitely practiced and rehearsed, but nothing really exciting. Definitely safe, as every competitor shook with tremors as they set their espressos in front of the judges and poured their caps. The way the room was set up allowed for two stations, seating for 70 or so, and behind the audience was the competitor's area (two long lunch tables, kind of). No stage, no stadium style seating, and no big screen. the only way to check out the surface of those spros and caps was to get a spot on the front row and hope that one of the judges would flash you a lucky one. Fortunately, one of the sensory judges was my coffee-sensee Izaki. My favorite performances in terms of equipment used and lack of overwhelming fear were two baristas from the same shop. Antique grinder and tampers, double rosettas, well-spoken with tons of smiles, with the proverbial icing on the cake being James Taylor as their chosen competition tunes.
Other memorable moments (of both days) include:
- the second competitor of day one preground his espresso during the 10 minute set up time, placed it in a little tupperware container, and then proceeded to pour espresso into portafilter basket, and then distribute and tamp. Too bad he DQ'd. I would have liked to know his reasoning. Oh, and did I mention he was dressed to donald trump nines, cuff links and all? And yes, his hair was gelled and slicked back.
- a young man using illy coffee decided he didnt like the first set of capp bases, and would re-extract while steaming milk. Well, not only was he pulling the shots while steaming milk, but he also managed to pour the first set of caps, steam a second pitcher of milk, and only then realize that the shots were still going. I timed it as at least a minute. They were definitely running close to clear by the time he turned around and hung his head low. I thought he might be crying as he stood there in front of the FB80, everyone sitting in silence... but instead he kept it together and turned around to appologize to the judges and call time.
- a very short middleaged man wearing a strikingly obvious wig (he was bald, perhaps a disease of some sort we assumed), nearly ned in color, and fluffy like an old lady's hair on a sunday morning before church. And it was of course he who gave an outstanding presentation while his chosen music of southern gospel rang loudly throughout the room. It look a lot for me to keep it together.
- another man who also DQ'd intentionally chose smooth jazz as his music. smooth jazz, by choice. Izaki san loves smooth jazz, too. I thought it was only my mom and dentist offices. I would say only a tenth of the competitors even chose to use music, thus creating a very tense atmosphere in the silence of cappuccino preparations..
There were a couple of really great performances, but it is only the judges that could say what tasted good. and thats really the point, afterall, right?
I also got the chance to meet last year's #2 JBC barista. So sweet. She works as head barista at Zoka in Tokyo now, working too much but doing a great job. I'll be visiting her when I return to Tokyo next month.
Other delights in Tokyo included the overnight stay in a traditional Japanese Ryokan. One of the last of its kind, family owned, and creepy as hell. I felt for sure that I was going to find a blank tape next to the TV or find a long haired girl walking down the hall. <
the sign above the TV is probably 50 years old and reads "For your safety, never smoke in bed."
Also, it was freezing. Below, actually, with the wind. Yet for some reason I felt invigorated by it. Walking around the city, riding the trains, I felt like I was in a real city again. Suddenly the realization hit me: Fukuoka is just like Atlanta!! Woah! All there is to do is go shopping, which has really started to bore me as the only use of my free time. Even today in the shop we ha d acouple of fluently speaking English folks come in, and I chatted it up with them for a few minutes each. When I told them I was from Atlanta, their first reaction was "Ahh yes, I love the south. So nice. Fukuoka is really similar, dont you think? Nice and slow, and not crazy like Tokyo." Oops. I like crazy like Tokyo.
We had dinner at a place called Respkt, one of a group of cafes/restaurants called Cafe Company. It reminded me of Octane's concept with a heavier emphasis on food and a lighter (as in no espresso machine) emphasis on coffee. Their marketing, PR girl joined us for dinner, and the three japanese chatted it up as I sat their, in silence. Occassionally Izaki would try to catch me up on what theyre talking about, but it was difficult to be interested when you cant really contribute. I tried, but once again I was lost in translation.
Strangely enough, last night when I returned back home, Yuko (mom) asked me how I felt being away from the cafe. Apparently Yoshi said the shop was lonely without me, and I replied felt lonely without them. Yoshi and Nataka are pretty cool cats with a lot to contribute. I felt so much better going to work today. Conversation was fluid and we even got a few minutes to hang out outside to look at the dried up river. Like Atlanta, Fukuoka is in a drought, and all of the rivers stand like mosquito ponds in the middle of the stretch.
News at home in atlanta reads : snow, and Octane's entrance wall got a facelift. sounds like good times are going. keep it up kids, ill be back soon.
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