Foam, foam on the range

by the Night Writer

Our favorite coffee shop is The Black Sheep in South St. Paul where owner (and my official 50th birthday barista) Peter first wowed my wife with an awesome and unexpected leaf design worked into the foam of her latte. It was an impressive demonstration well beyond my own bag of tricks for catering to my wife, but I didn’t feel threatened.

After all, Peter may draw pictures in her coffee at his shop, but I’m still the guy who can bring it to her in bed. That division works well for me and having a local artiste nearby makes going out for a coffee a little more special. The pressure on me may be growing, however.

An article in today’s Wall Street Journal (subscription required) suggests that time and money are no obstacle for those who want to create such foamy, temporary masterpieces in their own home.

Once an obscure skill practiced by a handful of baristas, latte art is invading the home. Amateur artists have posted thousands of photos and videos of leaves, flowers and swans made in foam, on Web sites like YouTube, Rate My Rosetta and CoffeeGeek.

Coffee shops offer classes in creating designs, and latte artists organize winner-take-all cash contests, or “throw downs,” in which amateurs challenge each other, as well as local professionals. Espresso-machine vendors are doing a brisk business in special pitchers and custom steam tips that are affixed to machines to aid milk frothing. One online retailer says sales of its $79 “Latte Art Beginner’s Pack,” with instructional DVD, frothing pitcher and milk thermometer, are up 65% this year.

The pastime is not for those with weak wills — or shallow pockets. High-end home espresso machines sell for as much as $7,000. Beginners can go through multiple gallons of milk a week as they practice.

Oh, great, so I need time, talent, money … and, apparently, a lot of milk.

Some aspiring artists concentrate on the pour. First-timers mistakenly think they can paint the design on top of the coffee, says Nicholas Lundgaard, a 23-year-old software engineer in Houston, who took up latte art three years ago after seeing photos on the CoffeeGeek Web site. Actually, it’s “a fluid canvas, where shapes fan out from the place you’re pouring,” he says.

Mr. Lundgaard spent evenings hunched over his espresso machine, studying exemplars on YouTube and rehearsing his “wiggle,” the back and forth motion of the hand pouring milk. To avoid wasting costly milk, Mr. Lundgaard practiced with water, switching to milk every now and then to gauge his progress.

Another foam artist, Milwaukee pathologist Robert Hall, says he had to pour five or six drinks a day for a year before he could get a rosetta right every time. One big obstacle was his wife’s preference for skim milk, which produces stiffer, less yielding foam than milk with lots of fat, he says.

Check that … I need time, talent, money, a lot of milk … and I have to work on my “wiggle.” Isn’t there an easier way? Well, it turns out that there is.

Not everyone wants to suffer for their art. After seeing a latte-art video, Oleksiy Pikalo, a 31-year-old electrical engineer from Somerville, Mass., decided there had to be an “engineering approach.” Using a kit and spare parts found on eBay, he built a programmable computer printer that stamps designs — such as words or corporate logos — on foamed drinks in edible brown ink. One design shows a kingly figure saying, “Can your latte do this?”

Mr. Pikalo presented his invention at a national computer-graphics conference this week and has started a company, OnLatte, to sell his machine, at a tentative price of $1,500. His YouTube video has drawn more than 818,000 views and 2,500 comments.

A latte printer? Really, the things you can do with spare parts found on eBay! It kind of sounds like the coffee-blogging answer to Twitter. Click here to watch a neat video of the craft and a demonstration of the latte printer.

Good night, sweet prince…

by the Night Writer

…and flights of angels sing thee to thy rest!

Actor Joe Kudla, co-founder and “Snot” half of the Puke & Snot Renaissance Festival comedy team, has passed away in St. Paul at the age of 58.


Puke (Mark Sieve) and Snot (Joe Kudla)

I moved to Minnesota in 1980 and went to my first Renaissance Festival that summer. I didn’t know much about it but thought it might be fun; I thought I’d stay for a couple of hours. It turned out to be a blast and I stayed all day, and the highlight was the performances of the sword-fighting, Shakespeare-mangling, carrot-spraying “Pun”-dits, Puke & Snot. I went to the Ren Fest for years, always making it a priority to catch their never-ending quarrel and ripostes — both verbal and of steel.

I haven’t gone to a Ren Fest for awhile, however, as I found the event to have become too grungy and not as family-friendly. The grunge may be more “authentic” for the era, but it seems as if the overall commitment to authenticity has devolved. I was actually thinking of the Ren Fest the other day and wondered if Puke & Snot were still plying their craft, and if they had updated their jokes, and if they still fit into their tights.

Thanks for the memories and the laughs, Good Snot!

Update:

Additional details in the Strib article.

Puke has a blog! Check out his tribute to his partner.

Last week

by the Night Writer

Last week a friend of mine died of cancer, the second friend I’ve lost this summer and both too young.

Last week was also my great aunt Essie’s funeral. She was the last of my grandfather’s siblings and our last living connection to the early years of the last century. Alva, Elza, Bransford, Mamie, John and Essie, the beloved children of William and Fannie.

Last week I also weeded the garden and felt the puffy, aching arthritic pain in my left middle finger, which reminded me of my father and his twisted knuckles. His stone has now been set and I’ll be able to see it next month when I go down there. He’s in the row at Oak Hill in front of Essie and her husband, Raymond.

Last week I also went to lunch with the Reverend Mother, the Mall Diva, my young cousin DeShae, and Miss B., the young woman who works for me. The young ladies are all in their early to mid-20s and Miss B. and the Diva are both recently engaged. You can probably guess what the women were all talking about at lunch. In fact, I nearly had to guess because I could barely make it out in all the background clatter and noise of the busy restaurant. I followed along by watching the light and animation in all of their beautiful faces.

Last week I had the chance to feel old, and grouchy, and tired of the random inevitability of life, yet in the gleaming of an eye, the softness of a cheek, the lightness of laughter and the tossing of hair I found the renewing power of hope and dreams and even second-hand it will last me this week, and maybe longer.

It’s a wonderful world.

Taking their best shot

by the Night Writer

LZ Granderson has a great article on ESPN.com today about the members of the U.S. Army Marksmanship Unit (USAMU) that is competing in shooting in the Olympics.

Glenn Eller is a lanky, baby-faced 20-something from Katy, Texas, a cushy suburb outside of Houston.

He is friendly, quick to laugh and has an odd affinity for Oreos topped with Cheez Whiz.

He’s single.

He’s looking.

And when he leaves Beijing after competing in the Olympics, he’s going back to Georgia and his day job: teaching other baby-faced 20-somethings how to shoot and, if necessary, kill people.

Walton “Glenn” Eller III — that is, Army Spc. Eller — is a marksman trainer in Fort Benning, Ga. And he’s one of six members of the U.S. Army Marksmanship Unit (USAMU) that is competing in shooting in the Olympics.

It’s not among the sexiest events to watch, so you probably won’t catch him on the tube. But just because shooting doesn’t make for good TV doesn’t mean it’s lacking in drama.

Not when you consider that our nation is at war.

And members of our military are competing against military personnel from countries we have strained relationships with.

And we’re competing in a country with the kind of human rights record that forced the Olympic torch to be hidden from protesters.

So while the latest incarnation of the Dream Team has garnered the most attention, the 14 Olympic athletes in the U.S. military — six of whom are in the USAMU — likely feel the most tension.

Then there’s this uncomfortable truth: During times of war, a lot of people die. It’s up to military trainers, like Eller and fellow Olympians Maj. Michael Anti and Staff Sgt. Libby Callahan, to help make sure the American casualty numbers stay low.

Not to take anything away from Michael Phelps — whose surgeon-like focus has received a lot of ink recently — but the word “focus” takes on a whole new meaning when you’re not only representing your country but also juggling life and death to protect that country.

I suppose some might question whether shooting is an appropriate sport in games that are supposed to support peace and brotherhood, forgetting that events such as the javelin, pentathalon and decathalon are rooted in demonstrating military prowess. The article is an interesting take on a sport that probably won’t receive a lot of attention. It’s worth a read.

Update:

Glenn Eller sets Olympic shooting record in winning gold medal.

Now it can be told

by the Night Writer

Some have noted that I have yet to endorse a candidate for President. This is not due to an oversight on my part, or because I’ve been too busy. Actually, I have been busy behind the scenes. Very busy. While I wanted to keep things on the QT a little longer, events are no longer completely in my control and circumstances have forced my hand.

Go here to see who I think will be our next President. And remember, it’s spelled with an “H”.

Like a ton of bricks

by the Night Writer

It’s been a busy couple of days, complicated with a couple of headaches at work and ONE real migraine that has lasted now into it’s second day. I spent most of Tuesday evening updating my notes for this week’s “Marriageable” class, which was held last night. The focus in Week 3 was the difference between Courtship and Dating.

As the Mall Diva and Ben have a lot of experience in this area I asked them to come in and describe the way their relationship has progressed and answer any questions the lads had. It was a very lively session with a lot a lot of questions and some excellent answers; I’ll write more about it in an upcoming post that will be part of the “Are You Marriageable” series.

At one point, however, the young men were especially concerned about how courting is carried out in front of the family (or families, if possible), and the inherent expectation of proper behavior. During one answer, Ben made reference to knowing that any impropriety could result in me coming down on him “like a ton of bricks.”

“Oh, you’re exaggerating,” I said. “I don’t weigh anywhere near that much.”

It did remind me, however, that Ben has escaped my attentions relatively unscathed — at least compared to the experience of another would-be suitor who found himself at the point of a bloody knife. That was a story I’ve posted before, but I’ll re-run it here for amusement and edification of both new and long-time readers. It’s also a way for me to buy a little blogging time until my next post while my brain heals and work settles down.

A Night at the Prom
Regular readers of this blog know that my wife and I have a pretty simple philosophy when it comes to our teenage daughter, Faith, dating: No. (See here and here.) Therefore you might be surprised to hear that Faith went to the prom last Saturday night. And yes, there was a boy involved from an unrelated gene pool. How did this happen? One word: conspiracy.

Are You Marriageable — Class 2: What is the condition of other relationships in your life?

by the Night Writer

What do the current relationships in your life say about your capacity to be married? Do you understand the relationship between love and respect and how this may be different for men than for women? What will you bring from your parent’s marriage into your own? These were all covered in the second class;

Why I should be paid to blog

by the Night Writer

I am 11% Idiot.
Friggin Genius

I am not annoying at all. In fact most people come to me for advice. Of course they annoy the hell out of me. But what can I do? I am smarter than most people.

I think I got dinged a little on my score because I answered “yes” to the question about whether I’m a manager. I was much smarter before that happened.

HT: Mr. Dilletante, by way of Anti-Strib.