I have become very sensitive to the price of coffee lately. Can you blame me? Coffee prices have skyrocketed in the last few years, often due to temporary supply issues. But then what happens when the coffee supply is secured? Those prices never go down, do they?
Thus it was with great excitement that I had to read the sign at Starbucks twice. "Pike Place Roast, $10.95 per pound" it read. This was not in one of the prominent displays, but in a knee-high barrel display off to the side of the barista's counter. $10.95 per pound! That makes this blend competitive with several store brands I have tried, as well as with Pacific Northwest brand Millstone.
I had to snap it up, particularly after spotting the price for my favorites, ouch!
This roast (not a blend, notice, but a roast) is named after their Pike Place Market store. This was the first store Starbucks ever opened, long before Howard Schultz came to helm the company. The Pike Place Market store pre-dates Starbucks' expansion, and pre-dates everything that everyone hates about Starbucks. I first tried Starbucks coffee at the Pike Place Market store in 1990, when (if memory serves) there were only about three Starbucks stores in existence.
This is labeled as a "medium intensity" coffee, a claim which makes me raise an eyebrow skeptically. I would have to taste it side by side with my beloved Italian roast to be sure, but it certainly SEEMED more intense than their Italian or French roasts. It has a bitterness about it that reminds me of their Gold Coast and Yukon blends.
The "Flavor" notes say "subtle notes of cocoa and nuts," and I would have to agree. I'm not in the habit of swishing my coffee around in my mouth before pronouncing it "an insouciant hint of blackberry blended with oak," or insert your own "wine snob" parody here. But after taking a few experimental sips, I can indeed taste cocoa and a little hint of nuttiness.
The weird thing about Pike Place Market roast is the taste I can only describe as "sour." Every office with more than ten employees has one employee who likes to brew the office coffee "extra strong." Rather than making BETTER coffee (say, by bringing in a decent roast), this person will proceed to simply double down on the coffee which the office provides. Perfectly understandable - who wants to brew Italian roast for thirty people, most of whom wouldn't pour their coffee on you if you were on fire?
However, it is a mistake to assume that "I used twice as many grounds" is the same thing as "I made it better." A very big mistake indeed. And you know that mistake as soon as you take a sip. You hardly need to ask whether Jim made this batch of coffee; the answer is patently obvious.
That's what Pike Place Roast tastes like. Which is a little mysterious, since it is an effect achieved with the normal amount of coffee. Something about the combination of beans (Starbucks doesn't specify which beans they use for this roast) and the roast results in something… not good.
Not to look a gift horse in the mouth, but you'd be better off buying a good Millstone blend. Sad to say, because I was hoping I had found a real bargain! Now I'm just stuck drinking the rest of the pound before I can justify buying something better. Sigh.
Thus it was with great excitement that I had to read the sign at Starbucks twice. "Pike Place Roast, $10.95 per pound" it read. This was not in one of the prominent displays, but in a knee-high barrel display off to the side of the barista's counter. $10.95 per pound! That makes this blend competitive with several store brands I have tried, as well as with Pacific Northwest brand Millstone.
I had to snap it up, particularly after spotting the price for my favorites, ouch!
This roast (not a blend, notice, but a roast) is named after their Pike Place Market store. This was the first store Starbucks ever opened, long before Howard Schultz came to helm the company. The Pike Place Market store pre-dates Starbucks' expansion, and pre-dates everything that everyone hates about Starbucks. I first tried Starbucks coffee at the Pike Place Market store in 1990, when (if memory serves) there were only about three Starbucks stores in existence.
This is labeled as a "medium intensity" coffee, a claim which makes me raise an eyebrow skeptically. I would have to taste it side by side with my beloved Italian roast to be sure, but it certainly SEEMED more intense than their Italian or French roasts. It has a bitterness about it that reminds me of their Gold Coast and Yukon blends.
The "Flavor" notes say "subtle notes of cocoa and nuts," and I would have to agree. I'm not in the habit of swishing my coffee around in my mouth before pronouncing it "an insouciant hint of blackberry blended with oak," or insert your own "wine snob" parody here. But after taking a few experimental sips, I can indeed taste cocoa and a little hint of nuttiness.
The weird thing about Pike Place Market roast is the taste I can only describe as "sour." Every office with more than ten employees has one employee who likes to brew the office coffee "extra strong." Rather than making BETTER coffee (say, by bringing in a decent roast), this person will proceed to simply double down on the coffee which the office provides. Perfectly understandable - who wants to brew Italian roast for thirty people, most of whom wouldn't pour their coffee on you if you were on fire?
However, it is a mistake to assume that "I used twice as many grounds" is the same thing as "I made it better." A very big mistake indeed. And you know that mistake as soon as you take a sip. You hardly need to ask whether Jim made this batch of coffee; the answer is patently obvious.
That's what Pike Place Roast tastes like. Which is a little mysterious, since it is an effect achieved with the normal amount of coffee. Something about the combination of beans (Starbucks doesn't specify which beans they use for this roast) and the roast results in something… not good.
Not to look a gift horse in the mouth, but you'd be better off buying a good Millstone blend. Sad to say, because I was hoping I had found a real bargain! Now I'm just stuck drinking the rest of the pound before I can justify buying something better. Sigh.