First Assistant Director: Charlie Finnamore Runner: Karina Woollon Camera Operator: Will Lyte First Assistant Camera: Andy Nowley Gaffer: Kian Altmann Lighting Technicians: Scott Burchell Josie Rafter Redfern Aaron Rogers Sound Recordist: Andy Watson - https://watsonaudio.com/ Continuity: Melinda Barbi Assistant Art Director: Cameron Seymour Art Department Stylist: Alicia Thorpe Props Assistant: Henry Hunt Art Department Assistant: Arthur V Hall-Jackson BTS Videographer: Michael Losada
Cast Waitress: Maria-Anna Kyriacou Dancers: Nicole Nevitt & Owen Ridley-DeMonick String Quartet: Dahlia Music - https://www.dahliamusic.co.uk/ Francesca Gilbert (Viola) Will Hillman (Violin) Kirsty MacLeod (Violin) Ben Michaels (Cello)
This video explores the abstract nature of what makes a cup of coffee \"great.\" Rather than focusing on technical specifications, it defines excellence through the lenses of harmony, balance, mouthfeel, and clarity, while explaining how the human brain uniquely perceives flavor and the emotional satisfaction derived from a superior brew.
What does a great cup of coffee taste like?
This might seem like a strange question, but it's one a surprising number of people ask me.
They hear other people talking about these incredible cups of coffee,
and they can't help but wonder, is what I'm drinking great?
I mean, they may be enjoying it, but they're kind of haunted by the idea that it could be better,
and if it could, how would they know?
This is something of an abstract question, and that is exactly how we're going to answer it.
See, fortunately for us, great coffee has some commonalities,
and I want to start with excellence as a kind of comparative idea
against a kind of baseline of preference.
Now, for many of us, our base preferences of coffee are set with cups just like this one.
Thank you.
Some people might start with instant, some with specialty,
but I think the first coffee you drink regularly is a kind of formative experience.
This, a little bitter.
Better with something to smooth it out, but still enjoyable as part of a wider experience.
Satisfying.
How does it taste?
It just tastes like coffee.
To describe it any other way seems, frankly, ridiculous and a little bit pretentious,
but it's the kind of beginning of a journey into coffee.
Now, though, I want to convince you of something.
I want to convince you that coffee tastes like music.
You see, coffee has these intense tastes.
It has bitterness, it has a little natural sweetness, it has some acidity too,
but when they blend well together, they are harmonious.
Now, right now, music is playing, and you're hearing music.
Yeah, if you wanted to, you could pick out the cello from the violin,
but they blend so well together.
But if the balance is off, if one instrument is too loud,
or the tone's not right, or something's a bit off,
very quickly it is distracting and unpleasant.
It's more than just the music, the harmony, the melodies.
Balance is so important too.
With great coffee, you shouldn't really notice the instruments unless you want to.
You should just be enjoying the music.
Aha, you say, there's a problem here.
You can't be claiming that every great cup of coffee
has the same balance of acidity and sweetness, and you're quite right.
Take the orange.
This has a very different acidity and sweetness to, say, an apple.
But what makes them both so delicious when they're perfectly ripe
is that balance of acidity and sweetness.
Right next to the idea of balance is the idea of mouthfeel.
It's a peculiar word we use to describe the texture or the tactile feel.
How should wonderful coffee feel to drink?
It might be light, and bright, and delicate, and tea-like, and fleeting,
it might be rich, and full, and creamy, heavy, and lingering.
There's a spectrum here, and great coffee exists, I think, right across it.
Easier, perhaps, to say what great coffee isn't.
It has no edges.
It has no harshness or abrasiveness.
It should simply feel really good to drink.
But next to that, there's another idea.
It's a little intangible still,
but I think it's really important in the world of great coffee.
It's the idea of clarity.
Slide, please.
We've all probably had cups of coffee like this.
The flavors are blurry, muddy, hard to discern.
Slide, please.
With better brewing comes a bit more clarity.
It goes from a mush of red to being like,
oh yeah, it's like, maybe fruity?
Slide, please.
Great coffee has this clarity of flavor that's just lovely.
It's not that you'll be instantly able to describe it, pick the right word.
That takes time.
That takes effort.
But the flavors will seem crisp and clear,
and it will have a kind of character that makes it extremely enjoyable.
But I want to stay with flavor and take you to a different place.
I want to take you to somewhere inside your head.
To this.
The olfactory bulb.
The place that I would argue flavor is created.
You see, aromas in coffee,
well, they're just volatile organic compounds.
They're bits of chemistry floating around in the air.
It's not until they meet the olfactory bulb,
and together with your brain,
are they conjured into the sensation of flavor for your consciousness.
It's a magical moment.
Not just because it's special,
but because there's a little bit of trickery in there too.
You see, coffee has almost too many flavors, too many aromas,
and your brain has to pick some to build a picture and throw some others away.
It's used to doing this.
You want an example?
Well, this is only true until I say it.
You can't feel your feet.
Of course, you could always feel them.
They were never numb,
but you just simply weren't aware of them in that moment.
Your brain took the information in,
didn't consider it important enough for your consciousness,
sort of threw it out.
In coffee, it's slightly different.
It's looking for cues and clues to build a picture of flavor,
and it will do so in a unique way to you.
It might take the color of the cup that you're drinking from.
It might take, let's say,
the kind of acidity that you're experiencing in the coffee,
other experiences from your past.
And so the picture that it builds of flavor is kind of unique to you.
So you give two people the same cup of coffee,
and their brains will build two different pictures.
They'll experience two different things, I think.
It's why we struggle to agree so often.
And what I like may be different to what you like.
When it comes to flavor,
it's important to know that your preferences are immune from criticism.
There are two emotions I want to talk about now, though.
The first of which is sadness.
It's that moment at the end of a cup of coffee,
you go for one more sip and it's finished,
and your brain's like,
hey, I was drinking that.
I'm not ready to be done yet.
It's such a lovely moment of sadness.
It's beautiful because it ends.
Great coffee should leave you wanting more.
Not worrying about what you should eat or drink
to get rid of the sensation in your mouth.
The other emotion, the other feeling,
is one that's kept coffee very compelling to me in the last 20 years.
It's anticipation.
You see, every night, every single night,
I get into bed looking forward to making and drinking
some potentially great coffee in the morning.
Great coffee is worth chasing.
It's this wondrous little thing you can just sprinkle
into your everyday life for a little bit more joy.
I'll say goodnight.
I hope your coffee is great.
I say thank you so much for watching,
and I hope you have a great day.