San Francisco
Where quality meets accessibility
An Afternoon at Sightglass Coffee
Hidden amidst the urban expanse of San Francisco’s bustling SoMa lies a small, easily-overlooked shop whose elegantly-designed glass doors open to a coffee connoisseur’s dream. Peering through the glass, I expect to see baristas rushing around to assemble intricate drinks and impatient customers hurriedly doctoring up their drinks. Upon opening the door, a rush of cool air hits me, forceful enough to shut my eyes. When I open my eyes, I discover a haven for people like me: people who need coffee in their systems as much as they need blood in their veins. Baristas do not rush, but instead patiently pour coffee until the last drop falls. Customers do not hurry trying to get in and out, but instead read novels, scribble in their notebooks, daydream and become lost in thought. Indiscernible murmurs linger in the air, coming from conversations between couples, friends old and new, and acquaintances.
Natural light streams through the open doorway and seeps through a small, unobstructed hole in the roof, surrounded by rustic wood paneling. The only artificial light in the room comes from several simple lamp triads that hang from the ceiling, reflected off quaint glass jars that hold dark brown coffee beans. Where the baristas work their magic, the sleek, white countertop contrasts with the warm browns and grays that cover the walls and decorum. Petite potted plants provide color and add to the room’s sophisticated, minimalist flair. Almost unavoidable by the eye are obstructive, industrial machines, which serve to perfectly grind the coffee beans into rich dust. Beside the immense hardware, burlap bags packed with coffee beans are stacked higher than my eyes can see. Above, a loft sits with communal tables and a bar so crowded that people nearly fall off the edge. There, I catch a glimpse of where I will be participating in my first coffee cupping—an elite style of coffee tasting centered around observing complex aromas and deep flavors, all under the guidance of a professional coffee guru, or “Q Grader.”
I wander upstairs and make my way to the coffee cupping area, where two men dressed in crisp collared shirts and perfectly creased slacks introduce themselves as our Q Graders for the day. Porcelain white bowls and saucers trimmed with faded green borders lie evenly spaced along the table made of smooth, vibrant wood. I come to find that they have allocated two guests’ worth of coffee to me, a mistake made on my part during registration—a mistake that makes me beam from ear to ear.
The connoisseurs commence the cupping demonstration, pouring generous amounts of the decadent drink in every cup. They speak eloquently about the flavour of every roast, describing each respective sip as “floral, but oaky,” and “earthy, yet airy.” I taste a spoonful, contemplatively nod my head, and agree, despite not knowing which word corresponds to which flavor or how to even distinguish one flavor from another—all I could detect was bitter, good, or great. I look around and notice others doing the same: nod and agree. Then, to my relief, a lady across the bar queries, “What does ‘floral’ mean? How is ‘earthy’ supposed to taste?” Several faces in the group relax, and it becomes clear that I’m not alone in my inexperience. A Q Grader expounds on the definition of these flavors, but only uses even more obscure words in each explanation, descriptions I would never think to associate with the taste of coffee, like “airy,” and “dark.” Without prior experience in distinguishing the simple profiles of coffee flavors, I must admit my confusion and exclusion. Nevertheless, I continue to savor each sip of coffee: smelling it, swirling it in my mouth so as to experience every ounce of flavor, and finally swallowing it.
While I do this, however, I hear an obtrusive noise, as irksome as one from a garbage disposal. It turns out the unusual sound is a ritzy sipping technique used by those around me to bask in the flavors each brew proffers. The professionals inhale the drink in a quick jolt between their teeth, then do something abominable: in posh fashion, they spit out the coffee as if they are indifferent to consuming the magnificent drink before them. Why would anyone ever spit out this delectable beverage? I, on the other hand, relish each drop, enjoying the buzz of caffeine that the coffee provides.
Proceeding to steward us in our journey, the experts reveal that each successive coffee cup we try is directly imported from a specific, exotic part of the world, including, but not limited to, Honduras, Colombia, Zimbabwe, and Rwanda. These beans were grown and harvested in high altitudes atop mountains, in localized subtropical regions, and in equatorial areas that experience continuous flowering and harvesting periods.
Needless to say, having access to this broad variety of coffee beans in one tasting seems nothing short of extravagant and inaccessible to the masses. Very few people can even detect the difference between a good and bad cup of coffee, let alone the minute variations between such diverse flavor profiles. For a college student that cringes when spending more than ten dollars, a typical coffee cupping would have broken the bank. Even for hardworking earners, this event seems excessive. The normal cost of cupping can even dissuade customers that cherish coffee. Unfortunately, this opportunity for education is available only to a very limited number of people.
But it was all for free. Sightglass hosts free coffee cuppings every Friday, when people of all kinds can come together and enjoy. When I first discovered this, I was shocked. How could such a lavish event cost me nothing? The attendees of the cupping were normal people. We went around saying why we were taking part: friends stopping in after work, a mom-daughter pairing on a Friday afternoon date, a couple deciding on a brew for their wedding. An event where average people with a love of coffee that simply desires an educational and enjoyable experience: that is where I belong. Plus, the sheer amount of coffee I drank today, even without considering the difference in quality, was larger than two Starbucks drinks, and yet it cost nothing.
Sightglass started from humble beginnings—just two brothers with a distinct love of quality-sourced cups of joe. Justin and Jered Morrison, stationed in a ramshackle service cart with only a few coffee pots and an espresso machine, operating from a rundown warehouse. As the two of them served the local SoMa community, more and more people came to this shaky cart, and some even became regulars. Customers were attracted to the quality of the coffee and the exotic sourcing of the beans,making the cart a local staple. Just two years after serving countless espresso drinks, Sightglass opened its first location—in that same rundown warehouse—which holds their headquarters and roastery, as well as the community gathering place where I was able to attend a coffee cupping.
To this day, the goal of pristinely crafted coffee has not been lost. More recently, Sightglass has had the ability to source from countries around the globe. However, they don’t source from foreign countries simply for aesthetic; Sightglass values the different flavors that Rwanda, Zimbabwe, and Colombia bring to people’s palettes. Education remains important to Sightglass, even as they have expanded to several locations. At the original roastery, coffee cuppings teach about the different aspects of globally-sourced coffee, but what is truly special about the Sightglass service is that it is no expense to customers. Typically, coffee cuppings are expensive ventures; I remember attending a Starbucks coffee cupping at their original roastery and spending exorbitant amounts of money. If every cupping was like that one, very few people would be fortunate enough to attend.
Sightglass is different. They value quality just as much as they value inclusivity, as exemplified by the free cuppings every Friday. Humble beginnings often lead to big, corporate businesses, but Sightglass is no example of this. The two brothers still sell excellent coffee and practice mindful procedures with their employees and carefully crafted espresso. Even as the coffee world melts further into corporate routine, Sightglass remains a sanctuary for people who love a superior cup of joe.
Words: Elizabeth Bennett
Photos: Samhita Sen
