Wake Up and Cup the Coffee

Then Ultimo and Cho demonstrate how to taste. With the grounds now settled at the bottom, each dips a soup spoon into a glass, raises it to his lips and sucks in the sip with a mighty slurp. "You want to spray the coffee across the palate," says Cho, repeating the procedure and growing louder each time. "Be careful not to burn your mouth."

Oh, yes, and after a good long slurp, the guys spit into a plastic cup. So much for the buzz.

The flavor, Cho says, should be appropriate to the origin of the bean. For Latin American beans, that translates to a "light and lively flavor and a light acidity, but not earthy." A medium to thick body is preferred and can indicate that the bean was fully developed and ripe. But there are no absolutes.

One of the more important qualities to look for is called brightness or perceived acidity, a perception that is not to be confused with bitterness. A good coffee needs acidity, but how much it needs is a personal preference. To my taste, No. 6 (which turns out to be from Mayorga, based in Rockville) has just enough: It is sweet and smooth going down.

For the most part, we hold our comments, remembering to wash our spoon each time and recording our findings on a form. But it's hard to remain silent after a slurp of No. 3, which causes everyone to grimace over a thin body and a flavor so sour it brings burnt green apples to mind.

"That has to be the Eight O'Clock," says Poupon of the inexpensive national brand, and Cho quickly reminds her to hold her comments until after the reveal. I'd been secretly rooting for that underdog, thinking how great it would be to so easily find a good, cheap bag of beans.

But sure enough, she was right.

Poupon said later that she was so impressed with the cupping that she signed up for a $150 barista class the next night. "My technique improved immediately," she said.

Thrasher, who as a sommelier is used to careful wine tasting, found the process eye-opening. "I tasted 100 different coffees when we opened the restaurant, but never like that," he said. "What I learned was that you get what you pay for, and what a big difference there is between mass-market and specialty brands."

Neither was so moved as to change coffee loyalties. At her shop, Poupon prefers Kahwa brand coffee roasted in Florida. At Eve, Thrasher serves Cafe Pronto coffee, roasted in Annapolis; "it's the best I've ever tasted," he said.

Then again, in case anyone doubts how subjective all this is, Cho cupped Pronto last week -- and didn't care for it at all.