Groundswell Coffee
Weather: 5°, Frigid
Coffee Shop: Groundswell Coffee • 1342 W Thomas Ave • St Paul • First Time
Drink: Drip Coffee ($2.75 16oz)
Book: A Nation of Farmers: Defeating the Food Crisis on American Soil by Sharon Astyk & Aaron Newton
Coffee Shop: Groundswell Coffee • 1342 W Thomas Ave • St Paul • First Time
Drink: Drip Coffee ($2.75 16oz)
Book: A Nation of Farmers: Defeating the Food Crisis on American Soil by Sharon Astyk & Aaron Newton
Coffee
Today's theme: Cold. Not cold press, but cold air. After a couple of days of January thaw (40!) the temperature decided to plummet into the single digits. I can't complain too much after spending 10 years in Duluth where putting a negative sign in front of the temperature was more normal than exceptional, but it was still a bit of a shock to the system. So the plan was to add as much warmth to the day as possible. Thus I found myself in St Paul to attend an event celebrating Argentina and learn some hot and spicy tango moves. For my coffee shop hop this meant another chance to check out a distant St Paul shop. The choice: Groundswell Coffee, which wasn't actually on my list for some reason, but I did remember reading about it before. I was particularly looking forward to it because they brew Dogwood, and since I've been exploring so many different shops I haven't sipped some Dogwood in too long.
When I arrived at the shop step one was to embrace the cold by falling on my ass. A soft coating of snow had covered the sidewalks, thus hiding any ice patches and leading to my meeting with the cement. Grateful to finally make it into the shop without further injury, I struck up some small talk with the barista. He was a nice guy, and the place was practically empty, so I'm sure he was happy for some stimulation. Unfortunately, I didn't challenge him with my order: the largest Dogwood drip coffee they had, which was 16 ounces. All I wanted was to be warm, and as soon as possible. Sadly, it was not to be.
The coffee shop is split in two rooms. I went into the attached room first and sat by the windows because I enjoy seeing the outdoors (it was also the only room with other patrons, and I like having other people around). It turned out the windows are insanely drafty and this felt little better than sitting in my car. So I picked up and moved back into the front room. I took a seat near the front of the shop to get some of that window sunlight, but after someone opened the door to come in this too became an obviously poor choice. Finally, I moved almost as far away as I could get from the door, directly across from the counter, and settled in. Unlike Goldilocks, it was not just right, but it was the best I could do short of asking for a stool in the kitchen next to the oven. The place was freezing no matter where you sat, or maybe only I was, but on a day like today you can't really do much about it without exponentially increasing your heating bill. Luckily the coffee warmed me up. Momentarily. Until it, too, was about 40 degrees. Lesson learned: if a shop isn't busy (or in this case, is dead) ask for your 16oz coffee in an 8oz cup with a refill after you finish the first one. And keep your coat on. And your mittens. I don't have much to say about the coffee...I love Dogwood, it was drip so it wasn't special, it served its purpose.
The shop is perfectly okay. There are only two comfy chairs, seated together, and they were already taken. The place is very empty and sparse; there is some local art on the walls, but overall it seemed almost half-decorated (half-empty or half-full? I couldn't tell). Apparently they do a lot of music, poetry, and open mic nights, which is really cool. They seem to support the local arts community quite a bit. However, I don't really think that I would ever return here just for coffee. It bored me and I didn't have a comfy chair to curl into or fun chatter from other patrons to fill the air.
Book
How City Farmers, Backyard Chicken Enthusiasts, Victory Gardeners, Small Family Farms, Kids in Edible School Yards, Cooks in Their Kitchens and Passionate Eaters Everywhere Can Overthrow our Destructive Industrial Agriculture, and Give us Hope for Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness in a Changing World
The book I'm attempting to read right now is very dense. I don't remember how A Nation of Farmers made it onto my book list, it could have been from one of many sources, but I picked it up on a whim just because it happened to be checked in while I was at the library printing some paperwork. I question if I'm really going to make it through the entire book, but I would hate to fail. At the very least there are no holds on it, so I can continue to read other things and slowly work on this book while I renew it for nine weeks.
A Nation of Farmers was published in 2009, so it's a few years old (which often matters in such volatile topics as climate change, food security, etc). I say it's dense because, aside from the fact that it is physically a thick book, it is written in a very reportive style: facts, figures, numbers, stats. There's nothing (so far) that's flowery or fun. That doesn't make it bad or uninteresting though; it's very interesting. The premise overall is talking about how we need more farmers in the US if we're going to survive. To get to that point there's a lot of background needed. So what I've been reading so far is a lot about climate change, peak oil, and industrial agriculture. Things I am very interested in, but also things that are pretty heavy to read about. The information about climate change is extremely sobering, especially when you remember that it was published in 2009—things have changed rapidly since then. I guess a good word to describe everything I've read so far would be "astounding." Even when you know the information in general, the specific numbers and examples are always a little mind-blowing. The authors do a lot of interviews in the book and right now I'm reading the first interview with Richard Heinberg (an expert on peak energy and author of multiple books, also the person who claimed we need "50 million more farmers"). It's really interesting to hear him talking about how many Americans were and are involved in food production, and where we need to go from where we are. In a nutshell, we need to get ourselves out of the industrial agriculture lifestyle that our grandparents worked so hard to create if we want any hope of sustaining life. The worst part is, even though to people who are actively involved in learning about these things the path just seems obvious and dire, that is not the majority view/knowledge. As a whole, we are ignorant, and there is no hope of saving our lifestyle as it is—The fun part of the book is that each interviewee includes a recipe of theirs that they use to cook and eat sustainably, so even after you finish reading the book, there's a fun little collection of recipes to take away. A nice light-hearted touch in a very heavy book.
People Watching
There was a cute nuclear family taking Spanish lessons in the first room I attempted to sit in. I was curious why they were learning Spanish, but I never ended up asking. Another woman with two children came in for some coffee and treats. Kids seem to be a very welcome thing there. That's about it...it was really dead.
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