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Coffee Roasters Home experiments Observations

Coffee bean degassing

coffee, Roast House
Coffee from the Roasting House, one light roasted one dark roasted. They were roasted within an hour of each other.

How long do freshly roasted coffee beans take to  degas? Should you let the beans lose the carbon dioxide inside them for 24h, 72h, one week, more? Do dark roasted beans degas for fewer days than light roasted beans? As readers of Bean Thinking will hopefully know, one of the aims of Bean Thinking is to bring science, and particularly experimental science, onto everybody’s coffee tables. Is there an experiment (or experiments) that you can do to measure the amount, and duration, of degassing with equipment that you will have in your kitchen?

To help me in my coffee bean degassing experiments, I got in contact with the very helpful people at Roasting House. Based in Nottingham (UK) they will deliver freshly roasted beans to you by bicycle if you live in the Nottingham area or, for the rest of us, by Royal Mail. Together with the cycling aspect of their business, they also have a commitment to supporting those people who produce the coffee. It is important I think, not just that coffee tastes good, but that everybody involved in the coffee process (from grower to consumer inclusive) gets a good deal. Lastly, and very importantly for the degassing experiment, Roasting House offer their beans roasted to the degree that you specify. While they helpfully recommend a particular style of roasting for each bean (dark roast for one bean type, a lighter roast for another), they do give you the option of choosing which you would prefer.

They are also very knowledgeable about their coffee. As I was discussing the degassing issue with them, they suggested a coffee (Daterra, Bourbon Yellow) that they thought would degas quite a lot. Not just that, but the coffee concerned would taste great as both a dark and a light roast (I do drink the coffee after all). All in all, this experiment could not have been done without the help and input from Roasting House and I am very grateful to them for their support in my little project. So, onto the experiment.

The Experiment:

water acidification via coffee beans
Red cabbage liquid approx 96h after roasting and then being sealed in a jar with coffee beans. Note the colours.

To discover the time period over which the beans degas, I decided to utilise an effect that (for reasons unconnected to coffee beans) is currently having an alarming environmental effect: the acidification of water by carbon dioxide. Carbon dioxide dissolves in water to form carbonic acid. With the rising atmospheric levels of CO2, this is leading to ocean acidification, which is another factor in the “global weirding” phenomenon. For the degassing experiment however, if the roasted beans are sealed in a jar with some water, appreciable CO2 degassing will lead to the water becoming acidic, something that is easily measurable.

Experiment 1 – Red Cabbage, Do the coffee beans really degas CO2?

red cabbage, acidity, indicator, natural indicator, coffee bean degassing
The colours of the red cabbage liquid on tissue. Control sample is on the left, light roast in the middle, dark roast on the right

An acidity indicator that you may well have in your kitchen is red cabbage. Liquid extracted from red cabbage is initially purple but will turn blue in the presence of an alkali or red if it is exposed to an acid. For the experiment, three (identical) jars were prepared each containing 60 ml of red cabbage indicator and three (identical) shot glasses. Each shot glass contained either 10g of dark roast, 10g of light roast or nothing (as a control). The coffee beans were kept dry and out of the water by placing them in the shot glasses. The jars were closed, sealed with sellotape and then left. On opening the jars, (approximately 96h after roasting) the two that had contained the coffee beans had turned red (indicating acidity) while the control jar remained purple – see pictures. It is a pretty way of showing the acidification of the water by carbon dioxide and confirms that the beans are degassing. To establish the duration of degassing, it would be necessary to refresh the red cabbage liquid and measure for a further period of time.

Experiment 2 – testing the pH more systematically.

I headed off to a pet shop to get a pH indicator used by people who keep fish (Nutrafin Test). As with experiment 1, the coffee (10g) was sealed in jars (with 30 ml of water) together with a control. When the jars were first opened (at the same time as the red cabbage jars), the jars containing the coffee showed really low (acidic) pH values (approx 6.0 – 6.5). The control water was neutral or slightly alkali (approx 7.5). The water in each jar was then emptied, the jar rinsed and the water replaced with 30 ml of fresh water which was then sealed in the jar, again for 48h. The picture below shows the evolution of the pH with time (measured as hours after roasting) for the jars containing both roasts. The jar containing the dark roast showed a reduced acidity by 192h (8 days) after roasting (the test tube in the picture is greener), compared with about 288h (12 days) for the light roast. Even after this amount of time however, the water was still becoming slightly more acidic than the control, indicating that the beans were still degassing a little.

pH testing, coffee bean degassing
Testing the pH of the water exposed to the coffee bean degassing. The light roasted beans are on the top row, the dark roast on the bottom row. The ‘hours’ is the number of hours after roasting. The pH is measured by comparing the colour of the liquid in the tube to the colour chart.

Experiment 3 – using a bubble system to ‘catch’ the CO2

A third experiment to try to ‘catch’ the CO2 degassing from the beans (in an adaptation of this experiment) sadly did not work on either occasion that I tried it. If you try it and get it to work with with equipment that you can find around the house, please let me know via the comments section below.

Conclusions:

The coffee tried here, Daterra, Bourbon Yellow, degassed significantly for 6 days after the roasting date. The time over which the beans degassed, was dependent on the roast type, with the dark roast degassing for less time, consistent with the thoughts expressed here. Degassing certainly continued for many days after the critical ’72’ hours. Even 10 days after roasting, some degassing was still occurring. To be pedantic about things, the gas was not identified in these experiments. However, the acidification of the water in proximity with the coffee beans is consistent with the gas being CO2.

Please do try this at home and send me your results and pictures. Let me know what you find out, whether you use red cabbage or a bubble system that works. One thing that these experiments did not do at all of course was monitor how the beans tasted over a similar time frame to the degassing experiment. Perhaps you have thoughts on this. Please send your comments via the form below, comments are moderated but will (hopefully) be approved pretty quickly after you submit them.

Thanks again to Roasting House for being very efficient about sending me freshly roasted coffee and also to Tyla for helping to independently test the red cabbage experiment.

Categories
cafe with good nut knowledge Coffee review Science history slow

Spinning a yarn at E&J’s Pantry, Endell St.

E&J's Pantry on Endell St
E&J’s Pantry on Endell St

There are still a few areas of central London which seem a little short on good cafés. One such area lies just east of Covent Garden. So it was very fortunate that, on arranging to meet a friend nearby, I came across E&J’s Pantry on Endell St. The coffee is from Nude roastery and the interior, while not exactly spacious is large enough that we were able to sit undisturbed for quite some time. Along with good coffee, they serve lovely cakes which (according to their website) are made in their own kitchen. This is presumably why they could tell me confidently which cakes were nut free. (Those who follow @thinking_bean on Twitter may know that this is a bit of a hot topic for me.) I enjoyed a very good Long Black and a cake, before sitting back and taking in the surroundings.

On one of the walls inside E&J’s Pantry are a series of photographs. Each photograph is suspended by a thin thread from a rail near the ceiling. The observation reminded me of spiders webs and the (often heard) claim that spider silk is a natural material that is “stronger than steel”.

photographs, spiders web, nylon
Photographs inside E&J’s pantry. Can you see the thin threads holding up the pictures?

Unfortunately, the claim that “spider silk” is stronger than steel is a little disingenuous. For a start, there are many forms of spider silk. A ‘typical’ orb spider for example, will combine at least four types of silk to make a web. Secondly, even for the main type of structural silk (Major ampullate), the statement that it is stronger than steel is sadly pushing it a bit. The issue is that it depends on exactly how you define ‘stronger’ and the species of spider that makes the silk. Spider silk can be comparable to steel in terms of its tensile stress (how much it takes to break it), but it is when it is compared to steel based additionally on the weight of the material that spider silk can be considered ‘stronger‘. When you combine this with the fact that spider silk is more environmentally friendly (and biodegradable) than man-made comparable fibres such as Kevlar, it is clear why research is being done into understanding, and synthesising, spider silk.

A question arises. If it is so strong and so lightweight, why don’t we farm the spiders to harvest the silk? Wouldn’t this be quicker than trying to synthesise it? Clearly we weren’t the first to think this and a farmer in North Carolina, USA, tried in the 1930s. Unsurprisingly, there were issues. Firstly, it took 57000 spiders to produce 0.45 Kg (1 lb) of spider silk. Secondly, if they weren’t kept in (expensive) solitary confinement, they ate each other. It seems that the N. Carolina spider farm was not a commercial success. However, as described in the New Yorker (8th Feb, 1941), a certain Miss Mary Pfeifer did harvest spider silk in the first half of the twentieth century, for use as cross hairs in targets for surveyors and, more sinisterly, bombers. Glass engraving at the time was not fine enough for making the cross hairs. The thinnest line that could be made by a diamond cutter into glass was about double the diameter of the silk from spiders webs and so spider silk had an obvious ‘niche’ market.

HM Ng, spider on web
It takes several types of silk to spin a web. Image © HM Ng

In 1941, Pfeifer would pay “small boys” from the neighbourhood 15 cents for each useable spider that they caught and brought to her. She would then harvest the silk and wind it onto spools ready for use in target sights. Since then we have developed nanofabrication techniques which mean that very thin strands of metal (such as platinum) can be positioned onto the lenses. Continuous strips of metal of around 10 nm thickness (this is one thousandth of the width of a spider silk) can be routinely deposited. Through the development of these and similar manufacturing techniques we no longer need spider silk for use in cross hairs. It is probable that the market cornered by Mary Pfeifer no longer exists.

Spider silk however remains one of many areas where, by studying nature we get clues as to how to overcome various technological challenges. Sometimes devices possibilities are obvious, such as with the opportunity of synthesising material with the strength to mass ratio of spider silk. Sometimes however devices are a long way off. It would be a shame if we prioritised research into devices at the expense of appreciating the ingenuity of nature’s own solutions to its problems. As the story of Mary Pfeifer shows, sometimes today’s obvious devices are not those of tomorrow, who knows where research done purely out of curiosity would lead us.

 

E&J’s Pantry is at 61 Endell Street, WC2H 9AJ

More information about spiders webs can be found in “Spider Silk”, L Brunetta and CL Craig, Yale University Press, 2010

 

Categories
Coffee cup science General

Setting the standard for coffee brewing

Chemex, 30g, coffee
A Chemex, how much coffee do you need to make a good cup (or two?)

Serious coffee drinking requires a serious attention to preparation. Various online guides (such as this one from Ineedcoffee.com) specify the ratio of water to coffee that you need and some will dictate the exact quantity of coffee that you should grind ready for your brew (30g for a standard, 500ml Chemex). Different brew methods require different amounts of coffee. Some will insist that the correct ratio of coffee to water is essential for a good coffee. So how can we ensure that 30g of coffee is really 30g? How do I know that what you measure as 30g is what I measure as 30g? It is a question that reveals a fascinating answer. The measurement of mass, the definition of the kilogram, is the only unit of measurement left for which we still use a physical standard as the reference.

This means that there is a physical lump of metal (it is actually a platinum-iridium alloy) that is sitting in a lab somewhere (Paris) against which all our definitions of mass are referenced. If you were to weigh out 1 Kg of coffee, your scales would, ultimately, be referencing this 1Kg lump of platinum-iridium in Paris. My scales reference the same standard and so we can be sure that, assuming our scales are accurate, your 30g is equivalent to my 30g. Many years ago (in 1884), forty replicas of this standard of measurement were made and distributed throughout the world. The idea was that rather than have to always refer to the Parisian standard, there would be a more local ‘standard’ that people could refer to. The problem of course is that the standards diverge, they have to be regularly re-calibrated so that the Kg in Paris weighs the same as the Kg in London (well, just outside London in Teddington, at the National Physical Laboratory).

gold weights, standard weights, not Kg
A set of gold weights from China in the British Museum collection. © Trustees of the British Museum

The reason appears to be because the standards get dirty. The surface of the metal adsorbs contaminants from the air which make the standard seem heavier. Admittedly, this may not be by much, only perhaps tens of μg, but over many tonnes, this small difference is going to add up. And if you trade in commodities (such as coffee beans) and are paying by weight of coffee then such differences, in large amounts, may be costly. So what is the solution? One method involves finding new ways to clean the standards so that they are contamination free. A more long term solution is to move away from measuring relative to a physical standard at all. After all, length is no longer measured with reference to a stick in a lab but with reference to the distance that light travels in a certain amount of time. Research is now being done into exactly this in metrology labs around the world. At some point in the not to distant future, it is very likely that the Kg will be defined with reference to an electrical measurement, for example, rather than with reference to a physical block of metal. For the meanwhile, we have to hope that the standards labs around the world keep their blocks of metal very clean otherwise, how would we ever expect to get the correct amount of coffee in our Chemex?

Comments always welcome, please click the link below to add a comment.

Categories
Coffee review Observations Science history

A ‘brief’ encounter at Coffee Affair

Coffee Affair, Queens Road Station
The exterior of Coffee Affair, yes it really is inside the station

It was a few weeks ago now that I dropped into Coffee Affair on a Saturday afternoon and met Michael (who runs Coffee Affair along with ‘Mags’). What can I say? This place is worth visiting for so many reasons. Firstly of course there is the coffee, so much care and attention to detail was taken when I ordered a pour over Burundi coffee from Round Hill Roastery. I was warned that my coffee would take some time to prepare before the filter was carefully rinsed and the coffee weighed and ground. The final coffee having been made with such attention that I started to understand why they had chosen the name ‘coffee affair’. It is clear that coffee is a passion.

Parquet floor at Coffee Affair
The floor at Coffee Affair.

Then there is the knowledge that Michael brings to the coffee and is happy to share. Thoughts about the best temperature to drink the coffee for example, or details about different brew methods (there is a lovely array of coffee brewing equipment on the wall of the cafe). One thing that really appealed to me though was the place. There are only a couple of tables and a bar but this emphasises the space that Coffee Affair inhabits: A preserved old ticket office. There are windows looking into the station with bars on them through which the tickets used to be sold. There is the oak table that has had years of ticket sellers leaning on it, presumably with a lamp next to their counter as it would have been a lot darker when it was used as a ticket office. Then there is the flooring, original parquet flooring that dates from the time that the station was built.

If you take a seat towards the back of Coffee Affair and look at the floor you can see where the floor has worn down just that little bit as ticket sellers from years ago shuffled at their counters while selling tickets. Like the toe of St Peter, the floor has been worn away by the number of people in contact with it over the years. Between the counters you can see where someone has tried to polish the parquet to minimise this ‘dip’ but has instead managed to produce lines in a slightly more polished floor. Thinking about the wear of the floor reminded me of Charles Darwin’s musings about the erosion of the Weald in the South East of England.

Goudhurst area
How long does it take for such landscapes to form?

In the first edition of Darwin’s book “On the Origin of Species” (1859), Darwin included an estimate for the age of the Weald of Kent, the area between the chalk hills of the North and South Downs. Based on his observations of coastal erosion, Darwin calculated that the Weald must have been at least 300 million years old. This was perfectly long enough for the gradual evolutionary steps of natural selection to have occurred. As Darwin said “What an infinite number of generations, which the mind cannot grasp, must have succeeded each other in the long roll of years!”* Looking at the floor at the Coffee Affair, you can get a similar idea as to the number of generations that have stood at the ticket windows.

Darwin’s estimate of the age of the Weald led him into an argument with William Thomson (Lord Kelvin) about the age of the Earth (which you can read more about here). It was Kelvin’s argument about the age of the Earth that Darwin considered “the single most intractable point levelled against his theory during his lifetime”†. The argument was eventually settled in Darwin’s favour, once new physics had been discovered, but only after both Kelvin and Darwin had died. So I’ll leave Darwin the last words for today’s Daily Grind, relevant too for those who have the opportunity to study the floor at Coffee Affair: “He who most closely studies the action of the sea on our shores, will, I believe, be most deeply impressed with the slowness with which rocky coasts are worn away”.*

 

Coffee Affair is in the old ticket office at Queenstown Road Station, Battersea,

* Quotes from “On the origin of species”, Charles Darwin (Oxford World Classic’s edition, 2008)

†Quote taken from “Charles Darwin, The Power of Place”, Janet Browne, Princeton University Press, 2002

Categories
Coffee cup science Observations Science history

Perpetual motion in a coffee cup

V60 from Leyas
Could your coffee be used to power a perpetual motion machine?

There can be no such thing as a perpetual motion machine right? Yet less than two hundred years ago it seemed possible that there could be. Not just that, the source of this perpetual motion machine was in your coffee cup. How would you explain Brownian motion?

Brownian motion is the random movement of small bits of dust or coffee/tea particles on the surface of your brew. To see it, you may have to use a microscope though you should take care not to confuse Brownian motion with motion caused by convection currents. There will be Brownian movement even a long time after the coffee has got cold. What causes this continuous movement? When he observed it for the first time in 1827, Robert Brown (1773-1858) had thought it was to do with a ‘life force’. He had been observing pollen suspended in water and noticed that the pollen kept moving under his microscope lens. In 1827, this was a very reasonable explanation, after all, weren’t several people looking for a motion, a force, that gave life?

Sphinx, Brownian motion
Brown used some dust from the Sphinx (shown here with the Great Pyramid) to show that ‘Brownian’ motion could occur in inorganic materials. Postcard image © Trustees of the British Museum

So, he checked if he saw the effect in pollen that was one hundred years old (he did) and then in truly inorganic matter, he looked at the dust from a fragment of the Sphinx. Again he saw the dust fragment move in the water. He had therefore shown that it was not associated with a life force but was something that happened for every small particle suspended in a liquid. What was driving it?

Without knowing what caused it, some people in the nineteenth century had already suggested a device to exploit it, using tiny levers to carry the energy from this continuous motion into devices. Others insisted on finding out what was causing the motion but it was here that the physics of the day hit a philosophical problem. It was proposed that molecules in the water could be hitting the dust on the surface and moving the dust in seemingly random directions. And yet there is a problem with this explanation. At that time there was no way of seeing or measuring molecules. How could physics postulate a theory – or suggest a reality – that could not be tested?

Nasa, Norway, coastline, fratal
How long is a section of coastline? Coastlines can be described as fractal like. Mathematics that grew out of studying random walks and Brownian motion. Image credit NASA Visible Earth/Jeff Schmaltz

An answer came one hundred years ago in a paper published by Albert Einstein (1879-1955) in 1905. In it he made some mathematical predictions that, for the first time, allowed the theory (that it was molecules causing Brownian motion) to be tested by experiment. Jean Perrin (1870-1942) of the Sorbonne, Paris, was the experimentalist who, by careful observation of droplets of water containing a pigment used by water colour artists, provided evidence for Einstein’s theory of Brownian motion. The experiment was so important that Perrin later wrote “.. the molecular kinetic theory of Brownian movement has been verified to such a point in all its consequences that, whatever prepossession may exist against Atomism, it becomes difficult to reject the theory.”

The consequences for our world have been profound. The mathematics that describes Brownian motion is that which we use as the basis to predict the movements of the stock exchange. Extensions of the mathematics have been used to develop new areas of mathematics such as fractals. Even art has grasped the theory of Brownian motion, the Anthony Gormley sculpture “Quantum Cloud” is based on mathematics describing Brownian motion. Everywhere you look there are phenomena described by the movements in your coffee cup. What we have yet to do is find that perpetual motion machine.

Categories
Coffee review Home experiments Observations

Sugar castles at Iris and June, Victoria

Iris and June, Victoria, coffee in Victoria
The exterior of Iris and June

This post has been a long time coming. Over the past few months I’ve been popping into Iris&June to get take away coffee now and then and have got quite fond of the friendly service and good coffee. What I have not really had the opportunity to do (until recently) was sit and enjoy a coffee inside. Fortunately that’s now changed and I can add Iris&June to the Daily Grind.

So, how is I+J? Well, it is a 5 minute walk from Victoria train station and a welcome break for good coffee. They serve Ozone based espresso, with a brew bar which features guest roasts (also from Ozone) made with the V60 or Aeropress. There are a good looking selection of cakes on offer, though sadly, on the day that I could sit inside with my drink, they all had nuts in them. Hopefully another time.

Sugar jar, I&J, I+J
A jar of sugar at Iris and June

I took a seat on the cushioned bench near the wall and started to look at what was going on. It is the sort of place that is very good for people watching. My eye though was drawn to what was on my table: a jar of sugar. It is not that I take sugar in my coffee, it is that I was reminded of a tutorial I once had as a student. I cannot remember the exact conversation but it concerned piles of sand. My tutor (a theoretical physicist) had said something along the lines “Ah yes, well, of course, everyone knew the maximum angle that a pile of sand could make before it became unstable and then how it started to collapse…. Until of course someone measured it.” [laughed] “We’d got it entirely wrong.”

This ability to laugh at what we do not know, (or what we assume we do know and then measure it and find out that in fact we do not)  is one of the pleasures of physics. We are trying to understand the world we live in, we have not yet got there. Sometimes it is the smallest things that are not yet understood, such as how and why (dry) sand forms avalanches as it is piled up. Yet these small things can turn out to have big consequences (as was also the case for the understanding of coffee stains). In this case, the experiment had tested the way that a pile of sand collapsed in response to different shaped grains of ‘sand’. It had relevance then (and continues to have relevance now) not only in terms of granular dynamics: how do we predict landslides/avalanches? But also in terms of crucial theoretical models about how these processes behave. Theoretical models that are applied to systems as diverse as knowing how electrical devices (resistors) work to understanding the noise on the luminosity of stars. Realising that we were wrong enabled us to probe the question more deeply and thereby to understand it more.

There are similarities between sugar and sand, but also key differences. Although it was tempting to start building sugar castles in the sugar jars on the tables at Iris and June, I was aware of the impression that I may have made to those who go to I+J to people watch (see above). I will therefore leave it as a home experiment. How steep a sugar castle do you think you can make? And how steep can you in fact make it, what is the role of water in building sand castles?

Please leave any reports of experimental results for how steep you can make a pile of sugar in the comments section below and feel free to send me your sugar-castle pictures.

Iris and June is at No 1 Howick Place, SW1P 1WG

Categories
Home experiments

The hot chocolate effect

hot chocolate effect, Raphas
A ready prepared hot chocolate

This is an effect that reveals how sound travels in liquids. It enables us to understand the milk steaming process involved in making lattes and yet, it can be studied in your kitchen. It has an alternative name, “The instant coffee effect”, but we won’t mention that on this website any further. To study it you will need,

1) a mug (cylindrical is preferable),
2) some hot chocolate powder (no, instant coffee really will not do even if it does work)
3) a teaspoon
4) a wooden chopstick (optional, you can use your knuckle)

Make the hot chocolate as you usually would and stir. Then, remove the spoon and repeatedly tap on the bottom of the mug with the wooden chopstick (you could instead use your knuckle). Over the course of about a minute, you will hear the note made by the chopstick rise (not having a musical ear, I will have to trust that this can be by as much as three octaves).

resonator, mouth organ
The length of the pipes in this mouth organ determine the note heard. Photo © The Trustees of the British Museum

What is happening? Well, just like an organ pipe, the hot chocolate mug acts as a resonator. As the bottom surface of the hot chocolate is fixed in the mug and the top surface is open to the air, the lowest frequency of sound wave that the hot chocolate resonator sustains is a quarter wavelength. The note that you hear depends not just on the wavelength, but also on the speed of sound in the hot chocolate, and it is this last bit that is changing. When you put in the water and stir, you introduce air bubbles into the drink. With time (and with tapping the bottom surface), the air bubbles leave the hot chocolate. The speed of sound in a hot chocolate/air bubble mixture is lower than the speed of sound in hot chocolate without air bubbles. Consequently, the frequency of the note you hear is higher in the hot chocolate without bubbles than in the former case.

Let’s use this to make a prediction about what happens when a barista steams milk ready for a latte. At first, the steam wand introduces air and bubbles into the mixture but it is not yet warming the milk considerably. From above, we expect that the speed of sound will decrease as the bubbles are introduced. This will have the effect of making the ‘note’ that you hear on steaming the milk, lower. At the same time the resonator size is increasing (as the new bubbles push the liquid up the sides of the pitcher). This too will act to decrease the note that is heard as you steam (though the froth will also act to damp the vibration, we’ll neglect this effect for the first approximation). At a certain point, the steam wand will start to heat the milk. The speed of sound increases with the temperature of the milk and so the note will get higher as the milk gets warmer.

So this is my prediction, musically inclined baristas can tell me if there is any truth in this:

1) On initially putting the steam wand into the cold milk, the tone of the note heard as the milk is steamed, will decrease.
2) This decrease will continue for some time until the milk starts to get warm when the note increases again.
3) Towards the end of the process, the note heard on steaming the milk will continue to increase until you stop frothing.
4) It should be possible, by listening to the milk being steamed, to know when the milk is ready for your latte just by listening to it (if you are experienced and always use similar amounts of milk per latte drink).

So, let me know if this is right and, if it is wrong, why not let me know what you think is happening instead. I’d be interested to know your insights into the hot chocolate effect in a milk pitcher.

Categories
Coffee review General Observations

Reflections at Knockbox, Lamb’s Conduit Street

Knockbox, Knock box, coffeeKnockbox coffee is on the corner of Lamb’s Conduit Street and Dombey Street. It is a small place and we had to go twice in order to get a seat, though the compensation is that there are views all around the cafe (it being on a corner). I enjoyed a very good americano, made using Workshop coffee. Complementary jugs of mint infused water were dotted around the cafe which is always a nice touch. Sadly, I tried Knockbox just after lunch and so didn’t try any of the edibles on offer. This does mean however that I will just have to go back to try them at some point (and of course, to enjoy another coffee).

There were a lot of things to notice around Knockbox that day. There were the air bubbles in the water that had become stuck around the mint leaves. There were the light bulbs (that you can see through the windows in the picture). And there was the espresso machine: A gleaming piece of machinery that sat majestically on the counter. Looking at the espresso machine it was impossible not to be struck by the reflections from the surface. The reflections are not only testament to how much the staff at Knockbox must polish the machine; how reflections work is the subject of today’s Daily Grind.

espresso machine, metal, reflection
The gleaming espresso machine at Knock box

The interaction of materials with light is one of those fascinating areas that reveal physics at its most fundamental. I’ve often taught undergraduate physics students who are looking forward to learning about quantum mechanics because it is “weird”. This is true, quantum mechanics can be quirky, but electromagnetism (which is about light) can be just as odd. To get such elegant and surprising physics out of what is essentially all classical, nineteenth century theory, is one of those joys about learning about (and teaching, using and experiencing) this subject.

However, to return to the espresso machine and light.  How light interacts with objects reveals how the electrons are distributed in the material which in turn tells you something about the atoms that make up the espresso machine. (For how to experience electrons in your coffee, see Bending Coffee, Daily Grind, 26 Nov. 2014). As the electrons are electrically charged, they respond to light which is, ultimately, an oscillation of electric (and magnetic) field. Electrons in a metal are shared in an “electron sea” between all the atoms in the metal. Consequently, when light falls on a metal surface, the electrons can respond to the electric field oscillation of the light and they re-emit the light backwards as a reflection.

ImpFringe, #ImpFringe, Fox's Glacier Mints, linearly polarised light
Sugar rotates linearly polarised light. The ‘device’ above is made from layers of Fox’s Glacier Mints and 2 linear polarisers (eg. a pair of polarised sunglasses). Photographed at ‘Lit Up’, an Imperial Fringe event held at Imperial College London, that was free to the public.

On the other hand the electrons in the atoms of the plastic of the grinder (or the glasses on the top of the espresso machine) are held firmly to each atom. Therefore most of the light that we see will go straight through these substances with each atom acting to propagate the light forward but not able to completely block it for a reflection. Coffee beans too contain electrons that are held in place by the atoms in the molecules that make up the bean. Unlike the glass though, the electrons in coffee beans are held in atomic bonds that happen to have an “excitation energy” that is at a visible light frequency. Rather than let the light through, they absorb certain colours of light (more info in the Daily Grind here). The result is the opaque, deep brown of the coffee bean.

This year is the international year of light, a year which is intended to celebrate our understanding of light. There are so many light based processes occurring all around us at every moment. Why not stop in a cafe and see how many you can spot in your coffee cup?

Categories
Home experiments Observations

Levitating water

V60 from Leyas
Time to look more closely at the surface of your black coffee.

Have you ever sat watching the steam that forms above a hot Americano? Beneath the swirling steam clouds you can occasionally see patterns of a white mist that seem to hover just above the dark brew. Bean Thinking is about taking time to notice what occurs in a coffee cup and yet I admit, I had seen these mists and thought that it was something that was just associated with the evaporation of the water and that “someone”, “somewhere” had probably explained it. So it was entirely right that I was recently taken to task (collectively with others who have observed this phenomenon and taken the same attitude) for this assumption by the authors of this paper who wrote “The phenomenon that we studied here can be observed everyday and should have been noticed by many scientists, yet very few people appear to have imagined such fascinating phenomena happening in a teacup.”

ineedcoffee.com, espresso grind
The water particles in the white mist are a similar size to the smallest particles in an espresso grind. Photo courtesy of ineedcoffee.com, (CC Attribution, No Derivs). The coin shown is a US nickel of diameter 21.21 mm

The authors of the study show that the white mists (these “fascinating phenomena”) are, in fact, layers of water drops that have a typical diameter of around 10 μm (which is roughly the size of the smallest particles in an espresso grind). Although the white mists exist above tea and even hot water as well as coffee, they are probably easiest to see against the black surface of the Americano.

More surprising than the fairly uniform distribution of water droplet size though is the fact that the authors of this study showed that the droplets were levitating above the coffee. Each water droplet was somehow literally hovering above the surface of the coffee at a height of between 10 – 100 μm (which is, coincidentally, roughly the particle size distribution in an espresso grind).

white mists, slow science
You can (just about) see the white mists over the surface of this cup of tea (which is a still from the video below)

One of the questions that the authors of the paper have not yet managed to answer is what is causing this levitation? Could it be the pressure of the hot coffee evaporating that keeps these particles held aloft? This would explain the observation that the mists form patterns similar to those caused by (heat) convection currents. Alternatively perhaps the droplets are charged and are kept away from the coffee by electrostatic repulsion, an explanation that is suggested by the behaviour of the droplets when near a statically charged object (eg. hair comb, balloon, try it). Perhaps the levitation is caused by the droplets spinning and inducing an air cushion under them? Why not design some experiments and try to find out. It would be great if we can drink hot black coffee in the name of science. Let me know the results of your observations in the comments section below. In the meanwhile, here is a video of the white mists in tea, enjoy your coffee:

You can read the study at: Umeki et al., Scientific Reports, 5, 8046, (2015)

 

Categories
Coffee review General Observations

The Corner One, Camden

20 Oval Road, Corner One
The Corner One in Camden

While browsing London’s Best Coffee, I came across a recommendation for The Corner One in Camden. The Corner One is tucked away on a side street near Camden Lock. What a great recommendation. The café itself is quite small and could be described as ‘cosy’. As the name suggests, it is on a corner, meaning that there are plenty of window seats on which to perch while enjoying your coffee. We ordered an Americano and a Flat White (Nude roastery) and couldn’t resist trying their muffins (which were very good). The atmosphere in the café was relaxed and, in a nice touch, dotted around the room were a variety of potted plants.

The strangely leaf-less plant at the Corner One
The strangely leaf-less plant at the Corner One

After a while, our attention was drawn to one plant in particular that had no leaves on it, although the flowers themselves seemed very healthy. This observation reminded us of the importance of plant life (and leaves) in the global environment and the fact that this week, diplomats from 200 countries are meeting in Geneva to edit the text agreed at the Peru climate summit. Their aim is to get the text into a form that could become a legally binding agreement at the climate talks to be held in Paris in December.

Plants are an essential part of the ecosystem of our planet. They absorb carbon dioxide and produce oxygen during photosynthesis. Another important contributor to the world’s oxygen supply are algae, as I became aware when I went to a recent Café Scientifique at the Royal Society (free and open to all). Dr Sinead Collins of Edinburgh University was describing her work on algae and what may happen to them as the oceans become more acidic. (The audio recording of the evening is available here). Ocean acidification is a consequence of increasing CO2 in the atmosphere. As CO2 dissolves in the sea water, it forms carbonic acid thereby increasing the acidity of the oceans (for more information click here). This increased acidity affects the ocean’s plant and animal life in ways that we are only just starting to understand. The evening emphasised how important it is to address the issue of climate change before it is too late.

latte art, flat white art
What the plant lacked, the coffee made up for

During the meeting, Collins mentioned that she preferred the term “global weirding” to “global warming”. The term does indeed convey the fact that a large greenhouse effect would make the weather system highly unpredictable rather than merely ‘warmer’. We should expect odd weather if we continue to pump CO2 and other greenhouse gases into the atmosphere. It is critical that the draft text currently being discussed in Geneva is agreed in Paris this year. We need a legally binding agreement to reduce our greenhouse gas emissions. Already our aim is very low; to reduce global greenhouse gas emissions to a quantity that would limit the global temperature increase to not more than 2°C higher than pre-industrial levels. Even so, this modest aim occasionally seems too high.

Let’s hope that the diplomats in Geneva this week and then the world leaders in Paris from 30 Nov – 11 Dec, agree to limit our CO2 emissions to that we can continue to enjoy our coffee.

The Corner One can be found at 20 Oval Road, NW1 7DJ.