Roasting Plant

The other day another editor at Flavorpill commented on the awful-ness of New York coffee. He just arrived from Australia and was stating what every immigrant soon learns. Coffee sucks in New York. I have ultimately grown to secretly love deli coffee 'regular' full of sugar and cream and horsepiss-colored liquid. But that took me seven years to do - even then, it's really a hot beverage rather than a cup of coffee. Iced coffee from delis, is, a whole other topic. Today I am talking hot, delicious coffee.

My NorCal roots are strong and I usually french press a cup at home every morning before heading out. It's cheaper and way better than Starbucks, which I loathe though have been know to visit. I generally feel their coffee is crap - it's too thick and burnt to taste coffee and requires a gallon of cream to make it palatable.

And everyone from the Bay Area, at least, remininsces about Peet's and Mission Street burrittos. In a stroke of genius, my dad gave me 'Peet's Coffee of the Month' club for Christmas in 2005, which I managed to nurse out into late 2006. But a few weeks ago, I ground my final beans and let out a long sigh. Where was I going to my beans now? There are a few places that pass - Porto Rico in the East Village for one. But I needed the juice, the good stuff. Primo beans. God wanted me to find the Roasting Plant, so he set it in my path as I made my way up Orchard the other day. The man who started it, is quite frankly a little insane. Figures, he's an engineer from Boston and was one the 'Director of Profit Improvement' for Starbucks. Which makes me shudder. But he made a good thing.

The whole place is like a Rube Goldberg mahcine, with pipes and whistles and bean shoots to roast the beans on site. It borders on being too precious, but eh, who cares. I got a half-pound of the house roast for about $7, not the cheapest coffee ever, but I am willing to pay for my drugs. I took it home and waited the suggested 24-hour 'settling' period before brewing my first cup.

Here's what is tastes like: It's roasted, but not burnt. Enough Arabica to be full and round in your mouth but some Central American in there for a little more kick. It tastes - like coffee! Not the roasting machine! It's spicy and peppery and chocolatey in all the right ways. Three cups of this and you'll have wings.

Where: 81 Orchard Street, at Broome, 212-775-7755