Category: Coffee review

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Coffee review General Home experiments Observations

A pebble puzzle at The Lanes Coffee House, Brighton

The Lanes Coffee House Brighton, Coffee Brighton
The Lanes Coffee House, Brighton

Hidden somewhere deep in “The Lanes” in Brighton is a great little café that goes by the (somewhat appropriate) name “The Lanes Coffee House“. The Lanes is a set of old, narrow streets that form quite a maze, a great place to explore if you are a visitor to Brighton. There are two entrances to The Lanes Coffee House, which is fortunate as we may not have found the ‘front’ entrance while wandering aimlessly around a few weeks ago. With plenty of seats inside, and a few at the back, The Lanes Coffee House has a lot to notice if you like to sit in a café, enjoying your coffee, without the distractions of your phone or laptop. Pictures by a local artist decorate the walls, with each picture featuring a Brighton scene and The Lanes Coffee House in a “Where’s Wally” type format. A window opens up to the narrow lane outside and there is also plenty to notice inside the café where we enjoyed an Americano and Soya hot chocolate. Sadly on the day that we tried The Lanes there weren’t any nut-free cakes at the counter and so, as compensation, we had to have a bag of fudge.

We sat at a table on which there was a tiny metal bucket that was used for holding sugar (see picture). With Brighton being a sea-side town, this immediately conjured up images of sandcastles and picnic sandwiches. The only problem with this image of course is the fact that Brighton has a pebble beach rather than a sandy one. So rather than think about sandcastles I got thinking about something slightly different: If you were to partially fill a bucket with some sand, put a stone from the beach in the bucket and then fill the rest of the bucket with sand, how could you easily retrieve that stone without fishing around in the sand for it?

missing a spade but it is a bucket
Bucket with sugar at The Lanes

This question came up, in a slightly different way, in a paper published nearly 30 years ago called “Why the Brazil nuts are on top“. That paper dealt with the question of why, in a package of mixed nuts, the Brazil nuts (i.e. the largest nuts) were frequently found to be on top when the package was opened. Termed, the “Brazil nut effect”, it turns out that this question is not just an odd bit of physics but has relevance to the packaging industry and earthquake dynamics. If you were to shake the bucket of sand containing that one pebble, the stone would rise up through the sand, eventually coming to the surface. The question is, what is driving this ‘anti-gravity’ type behaviour? Why do the heavy objects rise to the top?

Obviously, being a coffee website, to do the experiment with sand and a stone is a bit, well, dull. So, using dried, used, grounds (well, what do you do with your used coffee grounds?) and a green coffee bean*, I repeated the experiment on a smaller scale, in a shot glass. I put the green bean at the bottom of the shot glass and then covered it with coffee grounds (up to half way up the shot glass). To prevent too much mess, I covered the shot-glass with a piece of clingfilm. In order to avoid too much vertical shaking, the glass was hit repeatedly from the side in order to ‘shake’ it. It took 40 seconds of vigorous shaking but the green bean eventually started to poke above the surface. The heavy large bean had moved up through the glass upon being shaken, just as the Brazil nuts end up on top in a bag of mixed nuts. Just how had that happened?

Brazil nut effect
Now you see it, after shaking the green bean rises to the surface

It turns out that there are several things going on. Firstly, as the 1987 paper discussed, the small grains of sand (or ground coffee) can fall into voids under the large Brazil nut/stone/coffee bean. This has the effect of pushing the nut/stone/coffee bean upwards until it reaches the surface. The coffee bean could move down through the grounds but this would require the collective movement of a large number of coffee grounds under the bean to form a void large enough for the bean to fall into, something that is fairly unlikely. So the coffee bean will move up, the coffee grounds will move down. Then there is an effect that is more familiar to coffee drinkers, convection. The idea here is that although all the particles in the glass (or bucket) can move upwards as the container is shaken, only the small particles can move down again through the small voids created at the sides of the container. Rather like the movement of milk in a hot coffee, this again has the effect that the small particles push the larger particle up.

After this though things start to get more complicated. Along with what has been termed “the inverse Brazil nut effect”, it seems that air pressure may play a role in the Brazil nut effect. Who knew that Brazil nuts could be so complicated! Perhaps though, to finish our train of thought on The Lanes we could turn this effect into a non-physics, almost allegorical, meditation? If we, as a society, are collectively shaken enough, can small, individual actions do what at first seems impossible? I wouldn’t want to push the analogy too far, but it does seem an interesting problem on which to dwell for a further five minutes while you are sipping on your long black (or, as this is officially the first day of summer, your cold brew).

(If you’d rather think about the physics of sandcastles, you can find out more about them here).

*The green coffee bean came from a jute coffee sack that had been given to me by Amoret coffee for my composting worms. Thanks Amoret!

The Lanes Coffee House is at 59D Ship Street Brighton, BN1 1AE

 

Categories
Coffee review Observations Science history slow Tea

Pottering about in Wa cafe, Ealing

Wa cafe, Ealing, pottery, ceramic, bamboo spoon, glass tea pot
Coffee and tea at Wa Cafe, Ealing

There is something somehow inviting in the minimalism that greets you as you walk into Wa Café in Ealing. Behind the glass counter on your left are a series of colourful cakes along with pastries and buns containing more Japanese-style treats such as the Sakura Anpan (a roll filled with red bean paste). The drinks menu features the usual set of coffees with a more extensive tea menu serving different sorts of Japanese tea. We had a long black (which according to London’s Best coffee is from Nude), the Sakura Anpan and a pot of Hoji Cha (roasted green tea). The coffee came in a delightful ceramic cup with a layering in the interior of the cup reminiscent of rock strata of the Earth. The tea arrived in a pot together with a glass that seemed linked to the type of tea that had been ordered. Glancing around the cafe, it was apparent that different teas were served in differently shaped glasses. Was this due to the fact that glass shape can affect the perceived taste of wine and so maybe also tea?

The saucer for the coffee cup featured a carved pattern that, although different, reminded me of the medieval labyrinths that you can find (such as in Chartres Cathedral). But it was the individual style of the pottery that caused me to recollect a story I had discovered while researching a previous Daily Grind article (and then didn’t use at the time).  The story concerned a ship wreck just off the coast of Malaysia which was leading to a reassessment of our ideas about ancient trading routes and population migrations. As pottery is often one of the bits of the cargo that does not degrade significantly under the water, it is pottery that provides clues for some of our ideas about the past.

Wa_coffeecup
Drinking the coffee revealed ‘layers’ in the cup.

For this article on Wa Cafe though, a little digging revealed a recent archaeological discovery that involved not the pottery itself, but what had been in the pots. It had been known for some time that the first pottery found in Japan dated to about 16,000 years ago, and that around 11,500 years ago there was a significant increase in the volume of pottery produced. As this surge in pottery making was coincident with the end of the last ice age, it was thought that this increase in pottery production was driven by the availability of new sources of food as the climate warmed. So, it came as a surprise when the ‘charred surface deposits’ – meaning the bits of food left after cooking, found in the interior of the pots were actually analysed.

Using a general technique called mass spectrometry, the authors of the study investigated what elements could be found in the food deposits on the pots. They particularly looked at the ratio of carbon and nitrogen in the pots. The proportion and type of element in the food remains have been shown to indicate what had been cooked in the pot, whether it was meat, fish or vegetable matter. As the authors analysed the results they found that the pots were used for cooking fish, fish and more fish. From 16,000 years ago and on for a further 9000 years, the pots were used for fish. Although there was a shift towards the consumption of freshwater fish through the time period studied, there was not the significant change to meat and vegetable matter that had been expected prior to this analysis. The function of the pots had remained constant over millennia.

Labyrinths
A medieval labyrinth and the coffee saucer at Wa. It is thought that many labyrinths were used as meditative aids as you walked your way through them. What would you meditate on while drinking your coffee?

This suggests that rather than the increase in pottery production being about a change in function of the pot, the pots had a distinct cultural use that was unchanged through the warming climate. The results of the analysis challenge the preconceived ideas that had been previously been held. The full paper can be found here.

To an untrained and naive eye of course, I wonder if the people using these pots just had some odd recipes for fish. Maybe they made plenty of vegetable soup (which they rarely burned) but always chargrilled the fish in the pot leading to a prevalence of fish in the ‘charred surface remains’. Nonetheless, this is probably just a poor understanding of what the authors meant by ‘charred surface remains’, surely not every cook burns their fish!

Wa Cafe can be found at 32 Haven Green, W5 2NX

 

 

 

Categories
Coffee review Coffee Roasters Observations

Now you see it now you don’t at Bond St Coffee, Brighton

Outside Bond St Coffee Brighton
Bond St on Bond St, Brighton

A couple of weeks back, I tried the lovely Bond St. Coffee in Brighton on the recommendation of @paullovestea from Twitter. It was a Saturday with good weather and it turns out that this particular café is (understandably) very popular and so, sadly, to begin with we could only sit outside. That said, it was a lovely spring day (sunny but a bit chilly) and so it was quite pleasant to watch the world go by (or at least Bond St) while savouring a well made pour-over coffee. All around the café, the street decoration hinted at times past. Across the road what was obviously a pub in times gone by has turned into an oddities store. Air vents to a space underneath the window seating area in Bond Street café itself suggested an old storage space. A seat in the window appeared to have been re-cycled from an old bus seat.

But it was the pour-overs at Bond St. Coffee that had been particularly recommended and they certainly lived up to expectations. I had a Kenyan coffee roasted by the Horsham Roasters. The V60 arrived at our bench seat/table in a metal jug together with a drinking glass. The angle of the Sun caught the oils on the surface of the coffee, reminding me of Agnes Pockels and her pioneering experiments on surface tension. Pouring the coffee into the glass I thought about the different thermal conductivities of glass as compared to metal and how I had put both down on the wooden bench. How was heat being transferred through these three materials? And then, as I placed the metal jug back on the bench I noticed the reflections from the side of the jug and thought, just why is it that you can see through the colourless glass but the metal is grey and opaque?

Metal jug and transparent glass
Metal jug, glass cup. V60 presentation at Bond St Coffee

On one level, this question has a simple answer. Light is an electromagnetic wave and a material is opaque if something in the material absorbs or scatters the incoming light. In a metal, the electrons (that carry the electric currents associated with the metal’s high electrical conductivity) can absorb the light and re-emit it leading to highly reflective surfaces. In glass there are no “free” electrons and few absorbing centres ready to absorb the light and so it is transmitted through the glass.

Only this is not a complete answer. For a start we haven’t said what we mean by ‘glass’. The glass in the photo is indeed transparent but some glasses can be more opaque. More fundamentally though, there is a problem with the word ‘opaque’. For us humans, ‘visible’ light is limited to light having wavelengths from about 400nm (blue) to about 780nm (red). ‘Light’ though can have wavelengths well below 400 nm (deep into the UV and through the X-ray) and well above 780 nm (through infra-red and to microwaves and beyond). We can see the spread of wavelengths of light visible to us each time we see a rainbow or sun dog. Other animals see different ranges of ‘visible’ light, for example, bumble-bees can see into the ultra-violet. So, our statement that glass is transparent while metal is opaque is partly a consequence of the fact that we ‘see’ in the part of the spectrum of light for which this is true.

Sun-dog, Sun dog
Sun dogs reveal the spectrum of visible light through refraction of the light through ice crystals.

For example if, like the bumble-bee, we could see in the UV, some glass may appear quite different from the way it does to us now. Even though the glass in the photo lacks the free electrons that are in the metallic jug, there are electrons in the atoms that make up the glass that can absorb the incident light if that light has the right energy. There are also different types of bonds between the atoms in the glass that can also absorb light at particular energies. The energy of light is related to its frequency (effectively its colour*). Consequently, if the energy (frequency/ wavelength) of the light happens to be at the absorption energy of an atom or an electron in the glass, the glass will absorb the light and it will start to appear more opaque to light of that colour. Many silicate glasses absorb light in the UV and infra-red regions of the electromagnetic spectrum while remaining highly transparent in the visible region. High purity silica glass starts to absorb light in the UV at wavelengths less than approx 160nm†. Ordinary window glass starts to absorb light in the nearer UV†. In fact, window glass can start to absorb light below wavelengths of up to ~ 300 nm, the edge of what is visible to a bumble bee: The world must appear very different to the bumble bee. At the other end of the scale, chalcogenide based glasses absorb light in (our) visible range but are transparent in the infra-red.

Looking at how materials absorb light, that is, the ‘absorption spectrum’, enables us to investigate what is in a material. It is in many ways similar to a ‘fingerprint’ for the material. From drugs discovery to archaeology, environmental analysis to quality control, measuring how a material absorbs light (over a wider range of frequencies than we can see) can tell us a great deal about what is in that material.

Perhaps you could conclude that whether something is opaque or crystal clear depends partly on how you look at it.

 

Bond St Cafe is on Bond St, Brighton, BN1 1RD

*I could add a pedantic note here about how the colour that we see is not necessarily directly related to the frequency of the light. However, it would be fair to say that a given frequency of light has a given ‘colour’ so blue light has a certain frequency, red light a different frequency. Whether something that appears red does so because it is reflecting light at the frequency of red light is a different question.

†”Optical properties of Glass”, I Fanderlik, was published by Elsevier in 1983.

Categories
Coffee review General Observations Science history slow

Ripples from the past at Fleet St Press

flash camera, aeropress, sand timers, coffee at Fleet St Press
Window display at Fleet St Press

As the name suggests, there is a lot of history behind the café at 3 Fleet St (the Fleet Street Press). Not only is it just around the corner from the Devereux (which was once the “Grecian” where Halley met Newton), it is a few doors down from the site of the second ever coffee house established in London (the “Rainbow” was at number 15). There is also plenty of history in the café itself. Fleet St Press operates from a listed building, considered especially noteworthy for its 1912 shop interior (ie. the café). The stained glass at the back of the shop (which was nearly the subject of this cafe-physics review) is apparently original while a sign (for “Tobacco blenders”) in the front window hints at the building’s previous use.

Inside, a row of tall stools offers seating along the wall while a large table at the front of the café offers a space to sit more comfortably to enjoy your coffee. We enjoyed a very nice long black (coffee from Caravan) and a soya hot (white) chocolate. The staff were friendly and it was a lovely space to spend a while. Keep-cups and other coffee making equipment are on sale just next to the counter and the café is just full of things to notice. It’s not just the stained glass. The window to the left of the main door has been stocked with a film camera with flash (presumably a nod to the Fleet St of old), an aeropress, a series of sand-timers and many other items of distraction. We sat at the window which had a good view towards the Royal Courts of Justice and two wonky K2 telephone boxes. Just across the passageway from the phone boxes was a post box and this got me thinking about communication and how we communicate with each other.

soy hot white chocolate
An interesting concept. A white chocolate hot chocolate made with soya milk

In an editorial to a book that rolled off one of Europe’s first printing presses, the Bishop of Aleria, Giovanni de Bussi wrote that printing could be considered an act of generosity “the act of sharing what was hoarded”*†. Since then, the newspapers of the old Fleet St have made way for coffee shops and the papers for the internet. The ‘snail mail’ post box across the road has been almost superseded by email or other forms of internet communication. The telephone box, replaced by mobile phones or Skype. Although we may feel overloaded with information, our ancestors felt the same way. Even in the 1640s it was claimed that they were living in times of a media explosion in which there were just too many books*.

So, rather than look at how the scribe gave way to the printing press, books to newspapers, letters to telegraphs and then telephones and now email, Twitter and instant messaging, perhaps it is worth dwelling a short while on what underlies all of these. Indeed, we are so used to what underlies these communication techniques that we may not even notice it.

Writing.

It may be an obvious point but none of these communication methods would have been possible were it not for writing. Given that Homo sapiens are thought to have come out of Africa some 200 000 years ago, and have been farming since 13000 – 8000 BCE, it is perhaps surprising that the first record that we have of a writing system was not until ~3500 BCE. Writing is thought to have originated in Sumer, Mesopotamia as pictographs. Phonographic writing was not developed until later. Shortly afterwards it was again ‘invented’ in Egypt (3150 BCE) and separately in China (1200 BCE) and MesoAmerica (~500BCE). Writing is a surprisingly recent phenomenon.

K2 phone boxes and a post box
The view from the window at Fleet St Press

As with the fixtures at Fleet St Press, clues from these earlier cultures pervade the space around us rather like the ghost signs of advertising past. The tobacco sign above the door is suggestive of former occupiers Weingott and Sons. Famous for their pipes, they ran a shop on the site from the mid-nineteenth century until the 1930s. Meanwhile, the writing systems of the ancients lives on both in our alphabet and in our time keeping. Even the name ‘alphabet’ resonates with the history of the Greek “alpha, beta” and the Hebrew “Aleph, Beth” (themselves originating from the Phoenician). The Babylonian number system meanwhile, which dates from around 1800 BCE and used base 60 to count (i.e. rather than 1-9, their number system counted 1-59) echoes down the ages. It is thought that remnants of this system remain both in how we count the degrees of a circle (360) and how we tell the time (60 minutes in an hour, 60 seconds in a minute).

Signs and systems that are both instantly familiar and a ghostly ripple from the people of the past.

Fleet St Press can be found at 3 Fleet St, EC4Y 1AU.

*E.L. Eisenstein, “Divine Art, Infernal Machine, the reception of printing in the West from first impressions to the sense of an ending”, University of Pennsylvania Press, (2012)

†Quote from de Bussi is as quoted in Divine Art, Infernal Machine on p 15. 

Some interesting anecdotes about the history of communication can be found in Robert Winston “Bad Ideas, An arresting history of our inventions” Bantam books, (2010),

Also recommended “A history of mathematics, from Mesopotamia to modernity”, L Hodgkin, Oxford University Press, (2005)

 

 

Categories
Coffee review General Observations Sustainability/environmental Tea

Reduce, Re-use, Recycle at Attendant

The outside of Attendant on Foley St
Attendant Coffee, Foley St

I was not initially going to do a cafe-physics review of Attendant. It wasn’t that I didn’t enjoy the coffee, I did. I had a very well prepared V60 which went very well with a lovely chocolate brownie. Nor was it that there was nothing to see at Attendant. No, it was quite the opposite. Part of the point of the Attendant seems to be its location. You see, if you were not aware of it already, Attendant is to be found in a (no-longer-used), underground, gentlemen’s toilet. Although they have been thoroughly cleaned, various fixtures (19th century urinals and cisterns) remain in place. Modern (deliberate) graffiti adorns the walls as you walk in. Understandably, there are no windows to gaze out of in this café. It is, in many ways, a very interesting place to visit and the coffee is certainly worth a visit too. However, it is difficult to do a review which is, after all, about noticing something unusual, when the former use of this space is almost shouting at you. I thought about doing a review based on how the shape of the coffee cup can influence the flavour of  the coffee that you perceive. Yet somehow, writing a review on anything other than the fact that this is a re-use of an interesting space seemed, almost, perverse. So I left it. Until that is, UK Coffee Week came along.

UK Coffee Week raises awareness and money for Project Waterfall which in turn aims to help provide clean water and sanitation for coffee growing communities. Currently, Project Waterfall works in three countries, Tanzania, Rwanda and Ethiopia. In these countries a large number of the rural population lack basic access to drinking water while a greater number do not have access to sanitation facilities. Clearly this can lead to health problems. The World Health Organisation estimates that world wide, the drinking water of 1.8m people is contaminated with faeces, while 0.5 million people per year die from diarrhoeal diseases including cholera.

Interesting glassware at the Attendant
Interesting presentation. Coffee at the Attendant.

Perhaps, while sitting in cafés or having breakfast at home, we have a tendency to take water for granted. Certainly I will admit that I can. I’m sitting here writing this enjoying a great cup of coffee with a few biscuits both of which took water to produce. Beyond the obvious water in the kettle for the coffee and the water used for the dough for the biscuits, there is the ‘hidden’ water. The water used to irrigate the coffee crops and the wheat fields or to process the coffee cherry towards the green bean stage. The water used in generating the electricity used to bake the biscuits, or roast the coffee. The water used to clean the utensils between coffee roasts/biscuit batches so that we don’t get food poisoning. The list could go on. Indeed, the UN estimates that producing 1 cup of coffee requires 140 L of water. This figure though presumably cannot include the private water needs of the individuals who work on the coffee plantations. We all need water and we all need it to be clean.

So, in thinking about our water consumption (and the water consumption of those who help us to enjoy our coffee), we can do a few things during this coffee week 2016. Firstly, we could make a donation towards the work of Project Waterfall (here) or a similar charity that is working to provide clean water and adequate sanitation to those who don’t have it. Secondly, we could take the prompt from Attendant and start to think about where our water comes from. Why from Attendant? Well if you were living on the International Space Station or, to a lesser degree, in Singapore, this question may have an obvious answer. For the rest of us, we are often a little bit removed from direct water recycling, but it’s worth looking more closely at Singapore because they have developed a water strategy that may be of use for more of us in the future.

Reclaimed water NEWater, Singapore
30% of water supplied in Singapore is ‘reclaimed’. Where does your drinking water come from?

Singapore has a population of just over 5.5m (London: 8.6m) with a land area of 719.1 km². As an island, it is surrounded by water and so you may think that water is not a problem for the inhabitants of the city-state. But the water surrounding Singapore is the salt water of the sea and so not easily converted into drinking water. While looking for a solution towards a self-sufficient water supply, Singapore decided to try the recycling route. Through a scheme called NEWater, currently 30% of Singapore’s water supply is from  ‘reclaimed’ water (for reasons that may be obvious, they avoid the word ‘recycled’). The Singaporean authorities aim to make this 55% by 2060. Waste water produced in Singapore undergoes a process of micro-filtration (which takes out suspended particles), reverse osmosis and UV disinfection before being reintroduced to the water supply system. Although most of this reclaimed water is used for industrial processes, the reclaimed water can be added to Singapore’s reservoirs so that it will go into the drinking water supply.

A similar process is used on the International Space Station but there, as it is a closed environment, it is not just the waste water that goes down the drain that is ‘reclaimed’ but the water exhaled by the astronauts and the lab animals on the station. On Earth this would evaporate into the atmosphere, contribute to cloud formation and then rain back down closing the greater water cycle in that way. On the space station, the fact that it is a closed environment means that this moisture too can be ‘reclaimed’. By recycling the water in this way, the inhabitants of the space station avoid having to require too many costly water deliveries from the Earth.

Perhaps, while drinking our coffee (or tea, or even water) today, we can take five minutes to consider where our water comes from as well as considering whether those who contribute to our brew have adequate water supplies themselves. And as it is coffee week, here is that link again to Project Waterfall (Donation button at the bottom of the main Project Waterfall page). Enjoy your coffee.

Note added August 2017: It is with some regret that I have to say that Attendant is not a good place to go if you suffer from allergies. They have started serving almond milk and (according to a Twitter Direct Message received from the Attendant Team) do not adequately clean their steam wand between drinks so as to prevent cross contamination. Their advice to me was that I “should not have any hot drinks or food at our premises as we do not operate a nut free environment at our stores”. There are many good cafes to visit if you suffer from nut allergies, but please avoid this one (or just have a black coffee and enjoy the atmosphere).

 

 

Categories
cafe with good nut knowledge Coffee review Home experiments Observations Tea

Electrifying coffee at the Black Penny

Black Penny coffee London
The Black Penny on Great Queen St

Back in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, coffee houses were places to go for debate, discussion or even to learn something new. The Grecian was known for science. Maths instruction (particularly for gambling) could be found with Abraham de Moivre (1667-1754) at Old Slaughter’s on St Martin’s Lane. Other coffee houses were meeting centres for literature, politics, philosophy or even espionage*. Coffee houses became known as “Penny Universities”. The Black Penny on Great Queen St is a café that wants to continue this tradition, with a downstairs “seminar pit” ready to host such discussions. Although the events page still says “coming soon”, if the events do indeed come, this is very much something that’s worth keeping an eye on.

Even without the seminars though, The Black Penny is definitely worth a visit. Entering from the street, the bar is on the left and is stocked with a good looking selection of cakes. We were shown through to the relatively large, bright and airy seating area at the back where a jar of water (infused with cucumber and mint) had been put on the table for us. I had a very good long black and a lovely apple and blackberry muffin with which to take in my surroundings. The muffin was confidently asserted to be nut-free, and so the Black Penny gets a tick in the ‘good nut knowledge’ section on the Daily Grind. The coffee beans were roasted by the Black Penny themselves and while it still says that they serve ‘Alchemy’ coffee on their website, this no longer appears to be the case.

Duracell batteries as coat hooks, battery, batteries
A strange form of coat hook? The things that catch your eye in cafes

Inside, there are some very interesting architectural features to notice, the remains of a ceiling for example (now removed to reveal the roof) and the acoustics introduced by the speaker positioning. Downstairs in the seminar pit there is apparently a very old stove, though I didn’t get to see that on my visit. However, what immediately struck my eye was what appeared to be a series of coat hooks that looked very similar to a well known brand of battery. Quite what these hooks were for or why they looked like batteries I didn’t manage to ascertain, however, it did get me thinking, can you use coffee-power to light an LED?

You may have heard of a potato battery, or a lemon battery. These are often used in science outreach experiments in schools to demonstrate electricity, or the concepts of current/voltage. Made from an ordinary potato (or a lemon), a copper wire is stuck into one end of the potato and a different metal (usually zinc) is stuck into the other end of the potato. At the Black Penny, there were three things left on the table. My coffee, the mint and cucumber infused water and the tea of my accomplice in many of these reviews (I’d eaten the muffin). Which of these would perform better as a battery?

coffee power
Can 6 coffee ‘cells’ with aluminium and copper electrodes light up an LED? (The answer may be in the photo)

Although people suggest using galvanised screws as the source of the zinc electrodes, I didn’t have many of those to hand and so had to manage with aluminium foil for one electrode, copper wire for the other. By putting the aluminium on one side of a shot glass, the copper wire on the other and then filling the glass with coffee, I was able to get 0.5-0.8V across the electrodes when I measured it with my digital multimeter (DMM). Fantastic you may think, almost an AA battery, but then if you were to measure the voltage across the water rather than coffee, you will find that you get a voltage of 0.6-0.7V. The result for tea was, perhaps unsurprisingly, about 0.6V.

But voltage is not the whole story. A battery does not just supply a voltage, it gives a current. The current depends on the electrical conductance of the liquid that the electrodes are in. In the case of the potato or the lemon battery, the acid (phosphoric or citric respectively) means that there are free hydrogen ions in the ‘battery’ between the electrodes which mean the electric current can flow through the circuit. Coffee consists of many acids (chlorogenic, quinic, citric etc etc.) and so it seems sensible to ask if coffee could be used to produce a battery with a current that could power an LED? LEDs require both voltage and current, (1.6V and 10mA for the LEDs used here). Hooking up a series of coffee battery-cells meant that, by 6 ‘cells’, I had 3V across the contacts. However the electric current through the coffee battery was very low (the maximum current I recorded using the low acidity Roasting House Sierra de Agalta Honduran coffee prepared in a cafetière was 155 μA). Although this was higher than the current through water (max 81 μA), it is much lower than the current through white vinegar (770 μA under the same conditions). Consequently, in order to light the LED connected to my coffee battery, I had to add salt to each coffee cell which serves as a way of massively boosting the current through the coffee (salt forms a solution of Na+ and Cl- ions that conduct electricity through the coffee). Though even then, my LED only lit dimly and intermittently.

battery, Volta, Como museum, Como
How it should be done. The “Alessandro Volta Temple” in Como, Italy, is a fantastic place to learn about the history of electricity

Sadly then, I do not see coffee power as a future for lighting in our cafés, (unless you want to use bulletproof coffee with salted butter). However, it has started to make me wonder, could we use a single coffee-cell to monitor the acidity of our coffee? If you find a method of brewing or a particular coffee especially acidic, it should produce a higher current for the same voltage through the cell, or equivalently, the resistance of the coffee-cell should decrease as the acidity of your coffee increases. Although obviously, it would be a bad idea to drink the coffee after putting it into a cell with copper and zinc (or aluminium) electrodes, you could pour a small amount of your coffee into a shot glass to test it while you were drinking the rest of the coffee. I intend on testing this hypothesis over the next couple of weeks but in the meanwhile, if you have thoughts on this to share (or the results of your experiments), please let me know either via the comments section, email, Facebook or Twitter.

The Black Penny is at 34 Great Queen St, WC2B 5AA

* A history of coffee houses can be found in “London Coffee Houses”, Bryant Lillywhite, (1963)

 

Categories
Coffee review Observations Science history slow

Reflections at Store St Espresso, Bloomsbury

Store St Espresso, coffee, Bloomsbury, UCL, London
Store St Espresso, Bloomsbury

I finally got around to visiting Store St Espresso two weeks ago while visiting the nearby Institute of Making’s 3rd birthday science-outreach party. Although the café was crowded, we managed to find a place to perch while we enjoyed a soya hot chocolate, caffé latte and my V60. Beans are from Square Mile while the V60 and filter coffee options featured guest roasters. Despite the narrow frontage, there is actually plenty of seating inside and people were happy to share tables with other customers when it got particularly busy. The café is well lit with sunlight streaming in through the sky lights above (indeed, the extra electric lighting indoors seemed a bit unnecessary given the amount of sunlight coming through the windows on such a good day). On the walls of the cafe were pieces of artwork, including quite a large pencil/charcoal piece right at the back of the cafe.

I was meeting a friend for coffee before going to the science event and so thought it would be good to combine a cafe-physics review with a visit to the science. It is always interesting to hear other people’s observations of the same space that you are ‘reviewing’. In this case, I was taken by the floor which showed some very interesting crack structures but what fascinated my friend (who was enjoying her caffe-latte) was the way that the sound from the stereo was reflecting from the bare walls, floor and ceiling. While cracks and fracture processes can be very interesting, perhaps it is worth following her observations as it leads, in a round about way, back to the coffee that she was drinking.

latte art, hot chocolate art, soya art
A caffe latte and a soya hot chocolate at Store St Espresso

While studying for my physics degree, a lecturer in a course on crystallography told us an anecdote. The story concerned a physicist walking past an apple orchard. As he was walking past, he noticed that at certain points he could hear the church bells from a distant church. As he walked on, the sound of the bells faded, before suddenly, he could hear them again. The physicist went on to derive the laws of X-ray diffraction, a technique that is now used routinely in order to understand the arrangement of atoms in crystals (like salt, diamond or caffeine). X-rays are part of the electromagnetic spectrum (just like visible light) but they have a very short wavelength.  The orchard had been inspirational to the physicist because, just as a crystal is a regular array of atoms, so the apple orchard is a regular array of trees; as you travel past an orchard (on the train, in a car or on foot), there are certain angles at which you can see straight through the trees, they have been planted in a 2D lattice. The church bells could only be heard at certain angles because of the way that the sound was being reflected from the multiple layers of the trees. The effect occurs because the sound made by church bells has a similar wavelength to the spacing of the trees (eg. ‘Big Ben’ chimes close to the note E, which has a wavelength of approximately 1m). The distance between atomic layers in a crystal is similar to the wavelength of the X-rays (the wavelength of X-rays frequently used for crystallography = 1.54 Å, size of the repeating structure in a salt crystal: 5.4 Å, 1 Å = 1/100000 of the smallest particle in an espresso grind). The physicist realised that the orchard affected the church bells in exactly the same way that the atoms in a crystal, be it salt, diamond or caffeine, will affect the deflection of X-rays. Suddenly, it became possible to actually ‘see’ crystal structures by measuring the angles at which the X-rays were scattered from substances.

bubbles on a soap solution
Not quite a regular 2D lattice. By controlling the size of the bubbles and the number of layers, you can simulate the crystal structure of different metals. Seems I need more practice in making bubbles of a similar size.

We can perhaps imagine an apple orchard but what do crystals look like? Crystals can come in many forms, all they need to be is a repeating structure of atoms through the solid. Some crystals are cubic, such as salt, some are hexagonal, others form different shapes. Metals, such as that making up the shiny espresso machine in the cafe are often a certain form of cubic structure and to visualise it, we can return to my friend’s caffé latte (via some soap). Two people who were instrumental in understanding X-ray diffraction were the father and son physicists, William Henry and William Lawrence Bragg. While attempting to make a model of crystal structures, William Lawrence Bragg found that the bubbles that could be formed on top of a soap solution were a very good approximation of the sort of crystal structures observed in metals (his paper can be found here). As they form, the soap bubbles (provided they are of similar size) form a regular cubic structure on the surface of the soap solution held together by capillary attraction, a very good model for the sort of bonding that occurs in metals. By controlling the size of the bubbles, the number of layers and the pressures on the layers of the bubbles, all sorts of phenomena that we usually see in crystals (grain boundaries, dislocations etc) could be made to form in “crystals” formed from soap bubbles. Why not look for such crystal structures in the foam of your cafe latte, though be careful to see how the size of the bubbles affects the arrangement of the bubbles through the foam structure.

Sadly, I have never found a reference to the story of the physicist and the apple orchard and it may even have been apocryphal. The closest reference I can find is that W. Lawrence Bragg (after whom the laws of X-ray diffraction are named) had a “moment of inspiration” for how X-rays would ‘reflect’ from multi-layers of atoms while he was walking in an area called “The Backs” in Cambridge. If any reader of this blog does know a good reference to this story I would be very much obliged if they could tell me in the comments section (below). To this day, I have been unable to pass by an orchard (or even a palm oil estate in Malaysia) without thinking about crystal structure, X-ray diffraction and church bells!

It seems that taking time to appreciate how sound is reflected (or diffracted) from objects, either in Store St Espresso or in an apple orchard, could be a very fruitful thing to do. If you have an observation of science in a cafe that you would like to share, please let me know here.

Store St Espresso can be found at 40 Store St. WC1E 7DB

The physics of X-ray diffraction and some great bubble crystal structures can be found in the Feynman Lectures on Physics, Vol II, 30-9 onwards.

Categories
Coffee review General Observations Science history

Echoes of Bach at Amoret, Hammersmith

Amoret coffee Hammersmith
Amoret, so new it still didn’t have its name on the outside.

Amoret is a new addition to the coffee scene over in Hammersmith. Just up the road from the Hammersmith & City line entrance of Hammersmith tube station, I nearly missed this cute cafe when I walked past as it had no name on its frontage, nor did it have the chalk board that is characteristic of many cafes. Fortunately however, I had the address and so double backed to find a great little cafe. It appears that that majority of Amoret’s business comes from take-away orders although there is a small seating area at the back (it is small, when we visited in February, there were two chairs and a couple of tables/stools).  If you are fortunate enough though to be able to take a seat at the back of the cafe, I would thoroughly recommend doing so. Not only can you enjoy good coffee in a nice environment, the friendly people behind the bar were very happy to chat about their coffee and cafe. Moreover, there is plenty to notice from this observation post at the back of the cafe.

When we visited, the espresso based coffee was by Campbell and Syme, with V60s that featured different guest roasters (though it seems that other roasters also regularly feature for the espressos). I had a coffee from Panama, roasted by Union, which featured the word “caramel” in its tasting notes. I have simple tastes (‘caramel’ or ‘chocolate’ descriptions always go down well) but it was a great coffee. Complementary water was available at the counter with take-away cups (and water ‘glasses’ ) that were compostable and biodegradable*. As the very friendly staff brought my coffee to the table, I noticed that the ‘table’ that I had put my water on was in fact a metal drum that sounded ‘clang’ as the cup was put down. The sound of the drum immediately suggested that the drum was hollow. We all recognise the sound of a hollow drum, it is partly about the pitch of the sound, but partly about the echoes that we hear as the sound reverberates inside the metal.

Kettle drum at Amoret
After I had enjoyed my filter! The table-drum at Amoret. Does the drum sound the same in summer?

Although it appears simple, the sound made by the drum is influenced by many aspects of the drum’s construction and surroundings. The stiffness of the metal and the atmospheric pressure affect the way that the drum’s surface vibrates, while the size of the drum and the speed of sound in air also affect the note, or pitch, that we hear. How is the sound of the drum affected by a change in its surroundings? For example, if the atmosphere in Amoret got much warmer, the speed of sound would increase, how would that affect the sound of the table-drum?

A few years ago, Professor Timothy Leighton was wondering how the properties of the atmosphere affected the sounds of musical instruments. Specifically, he wondered what instruments would sound like on other planets. Take Venus. Venus is a planet with a very dense, very hot atmosphere. The surface temperature on Venus is 457C (Earth’s average is approx 14C) while the atmospheric pressure is 90 Bar (Earth’s average: 1 Bar). As it gets hotter, the speed of sound increases and so, to a first approximation, the note made by the drum-table at Amoret will sound higher as the air gets warmer. However, the metal of the drum is also hotter on Venus (so less stiff) and the density and pressure of Venus’ atmosphere will act to further complicate things. So to start thinking about how things sound on Venus, we would be more sensible to think about a simpler instrument, such as an organ, which is only affected by the change of the speed of sound†. Take the famous case of Bach’s Toccata and Fugue in D minor. Played on Venus, the researchers found that, rather than be in D minor (293.66 Hz), it would have the pitch of F minor (at 349.23 Hz). You can hear Bach’s Toccata on Venus (Mars and Titan) here.

Venus
The clouds of Venus photographed by Hubble. Image credit © NASA/JPL

What about a human voice, how would a person sound on Venus (were they able to survive)? In humans, the pitch of the voice is determined by the rate of vibration of the vocal cords. So it is possible to construct a speech synthesiser to imitate human speech by modelling such a voice ‘box’. Erasmus Darwin, (grandfather to Charles) made such a device in around 1770 with wood, leather and silk‡. Darwin’s voice synthesiser could pronouce the sounds ‘p’, ‘m’, ‘b’ and ‘a’ and so ‘mama’, ‘papa’, ‘map’ and ‘pam’, which by some accounts was convincing enough to fool people into thinking there was a small child in the room. Why did people think that Erasmus’ ‘child’ was small? It turns out that just as with the drum, when we listen to people speak, we do not just register their pitch but also the echoes on their voice. Each time we make a sound, the sound travels from the vocal cords down to the lungs (where it gets reflected upwards) and up to the mouth (where it gets reflected downwards). We subconsciously listen for these echoes and, if they take a long time to appear, we deduce that the person is large (there is a greater distance between their voice box and their lungs). If the echo comes back quickly, clearly the distance between the voice box and the lungs is smaller and hence the person is smaller. Just like the drum at Amoret, the human voice is a bit more tricky to model on Venus than Erasmus Darwin’s device allowed for.

Leighton and co-author Andi Petulescu considered the question of the sound of the human voice on Venus in their 2009 paper. Firstly they said, the density of Venus’ atmosphere would make the vocal cords vibrate more slowly, so the person speaking would sound as if they had a deeper voice. But secondly, the high speed of sound on Venus would mean that those echoes that we listen for would come back very quickly, so we would perceive the speaker as being small. What does this sound like? A few years ago, a Dutch TV show set this very topic as a question for their annual quiz and answered it by one of the co-hosts singing Banarama’s “Venus” with, and without, the Venus voice changing software of Leighton. If you understand Dutch, the full clip is below. If you don’t understand Dutch but would just like to find out how you would sound on Venus while singing Banarama, forward to 7 minutes in for the version on Earth and 7m46 in for the Venus version.

It is not easy for us to travel to Venus to investigate whether Prof. Leighton was correct. It is possible for us to repeatedly visit Amoret to investigate how the coffee cups sound as they are put on the drum as the temperature changes around us. This seems a fantastic excuse to revisit to me.

 

Amoret is at 11 Beadon Road, W6 0EA

‡”Erasmus Darwin – A life of unequalled achievement” by Desmon King-Hele was published by Giles de la Mare Publishers (1999)

* It should be noted that ‘compostable’ plastic has a very specific definition that does not mean that it can necessarily be composted in the way that you or I would understand the term, as I described in more detail here. Nonetheless, it is definitely a significant improvement from conventional plastic and I would love to see more cafes follow suit with environmentally sound packaging.

† Of course this comes with a fair few caveats, not least the fact that the organ has to have flue pipes only. I would thoroughly recommend browsing Professor Timothy Leighton’s excellent webpage on this and other aspects of acoustics which you can find here.

Categories
Coffee review General Observations

Setting standards at Brill, Exmouth Market

Brill, Exmouth Market, neon, architectural history
The neon lit “Brill” from the back of the cafe. You can also see evidence of an old arch in the brickwork, an old doorway?

Brill on Exmouth Market has quite a history. Originally a record store, it has evolved into a music shop/cafe more recently. On my recent visit, I ordered a very good Americano (beans from Officina Coffee Roasters) and although cakes were on sale, it was a small bar of Green & Blacks chocolate that appealed to me a bit more that day. It is a small cafe and so the few seats that are upstairs were occupied. This turned out to be a good thing though because I noticed a sign indicating that there were more seats downstairs, which actually meant that there was seating in a lovely little courtyard/garden at the back of Brill. Although it was originally locked (it was February and fairly dismal when I visited, who in their right mind would want to sit in the garden?), the friendly staff unlocked it and quickly cleaned one of the tables so that I could enjoy my coffee and chocolate in peace in central London. Indeed, the occasional (inevitable?) sound of sirens in the distance only served to emphasise the tranquility of the courtyard. The courtyard has four tables and a glitter-ball in the corner hanging from a tree. There was a lot to appreciate outside, both in terms of the science and the history of the place: Leaves deposited by vortices in corners of the yard with brickwork that suggested a significant re-build has occurred to this cafe.

But from my vantage point, it was the word ‘Brill’, lit up in neon lighting inside the cafe, that caught my attention. Neon lights are always interesting to me because their colour is so suggestive of the atoms that make up the light. The colour of a neon light is determined by the energy levels of the atoms that make up the light, the gas ‘neon’ shines red, hence neon lights. But if you wanted blue ‘neon’ lights you could use mercury as the vapour in the tube instead of neon, it is all about the energy levels of the atoms in the gas in the tubes.

glitter ball, disco at Brill Exmouth Market
A glitter ball in the corner of the courtyard at Brill

Under certain conditions, cadmium also emits a red light which brings us to the subject of this cafe-physics review: The definition of length. How is it that we can all agree on what ‘one metre’ is, or even one ‘inch’? Perhaps you are wondering how the red light emitted by cadmium, (or neon), relates to the definition of the metre? It’s about standards and definitions. Up until about 1960, the standard unit of length (the metre) was measured with reference to an actual, physical, metal rod kept in Paris with two scratches carved into it, one metre apart. Any arguments about the precise length of a metre could be settled by referring to the metre, this metal bar in Paris. But of course there were problems, the first of which was that the metre was in Paris. Perhaps you would think it easy to make copies? Yet in the nineteenth century this was already becoming a problem, the measurements that were being made were becoming too precise. Anders Ångstrom’s pioneering work with spectroscopy (investigation of elements by the colours that they emit/absorb) revealed a small difference between the metre kept in Uppsala (where Ångstrom was based) and that kept in Paris. Although the difference was tiny, when it was compared with what people had started to measure, it became significant. Then there was the question of the scratches: Would you measure the metre between the furthest two points of the scratch? Or the closest? Then an even worse problem was discovered: The rod was shrinking! If you’re tempted to abandon metric units and hark back to Imperial units, bear in mind that the UK Imperial Yard was shrinking even faster. No, something had to be done and that something involved changing the definition of the metre fundamentally.

neon sign, light emission
Neon signs have characteristic colours due to the electron transitions in the ionised gases

It is here that cadmium comes in to the story. Rather than use a physical length that we could all measure, the people whose job it is to define our base units decided that the definition of the metre would be with reference to the wavelength of the red light of Cadmium. I do not know why they did not want to use the red of neon lights but even with cadmium it quickly became apparent that there was a problem. The problem was that cadmium exists as several isotopes, all having a very slightly different ‘colour’ of red light that they emit. So, rather than cadmium, in 1960 they settled on the orange line of Krypton as the definition of the metre. One metre was then defined as 1650763.73 vacuum wavelengths of Krypton. That was the definition for over twenty years before the definition of the metre was updated again in 1983. It is now defined as “the length travelled by light in a vacuum during a time interval of 1/299792458 of a second”.

Perhaps it is not a definition that you or I could use, we’d probably still refer to our metre rule! Nonetheless this definition does allow people to perform experiments that need very precise and very accurate measurements of lengths. These standards are important for extremely sensitive measurements such as that needed to detect gravitational waves with the LIGO experiment, reported a few weeks ago. The neon lights at ‘Brill’ do indeed suggest a story that goes way back in time, both for the cafe and for the science.

Brill is at 27 Exmouth Market, EC1R 4QL

Spectroscopy information from “Spectrophysics”, by AP Thorne, Chapman and Hall Ltd, 1974

Categories
Coffee review General Observations Science history Sustainability/environmental

Keeping it local at Lumberjack, Camberwell

Lumberjack coffee Camberwell
Lumberjack Camberwell with the (not quite) inukshuk in the window

I came across Lumberjack last week while spending an afternoon in Camberwell looking for interesting cafes to “cafe-physics” review. I was actually on my way to a cafe further along the road when a couple of wooden structures in the window attracted my attention. Thinking that they were “Inukshuk” we decided to go in and try this new cafe. It turned out to be a good choice because, even though the structures were not in fact inuksuik, they had brought us into this lovely little cafe. We arrived shortly before closing but I still had time to enjoy a very good long black (with beans from Old Spike Roastery). Complementary water was brought over to the table. It would have been great if we had arrived just that bit earlier so that we could have had more time to properly appreciate this friendly cafe. The interior is bright and smartly decorated with wooden tables and shelving as well as plenty of seats at the back. The wooden furniture is explained by the fact that the cafe is the trading arm for London Reclaimed, a charity that provides employment and carpentry training to 16-25 year olds from SE London while making bespoke furniture from reclaimed timber. The cafe too aims to provide training and support to encourage 16-25 year olds into work and a future career. In terms of the ‘physics’ bit of this review, the interior of the cafe certainly has plenty to observe, from the pendulum like light fittings to the detail of the wood. But as this cafe is metaphorically, and in some ways literally, built on/with wood and as Lumberjack boasts on its website that “almost everything you’ll find in store, from the coffee to the furniture, are sourced as locally and homemade as possible” it is only appropriate that this cafe-physics review should focus on wood, trees and a tree very specific and local to London; the London Plane tree.

Long Black coffee in a red cup
A Long Black at Lumberjack with the grain of the wood showing underneath

With their characteristic mottled bark, London Plane trees are a recognisable sight along many a London street. The bark absorbs pollutants from the street before bits of bark fall off, taking the pollution with them and leaving the tree with its mottled appearance. Their root structure and resistance to pruning or pollarding helps to ensure that (mostly) they can survive happily in the crowded confines of London pavements. They are indeed very much a tree that seems almost specially adapted to London. Yet the connection between the London Plane and London goes deeper than that. The first ever record of a London Plane tree was in the seventeenth century, just up the road from Lumberjack, in the Vauxhall Gardens of John Tradescant the Younger. The London Plane is in fact a hybrid tree, thought to be a cross between the American sycamore (first recorded in London in 1548) and the Oriental Plane (first recorded in London in the C17th). Both these trees were found in Tradescant’s gardens and it is possible that the hybrid tree, the now ubiquitous London Plane, was actually first grown in Vauxhall.

Even though London is full of Plane Trees, it is not very common to find plane wood furniture. Rather than the grain visible in the tables at Lumberjack, Plane wood shows a “lacy” structure that gives furniture made with plane a distinctive pattern. Although unsuitable for outdoor furniture, plane-wood can be used to make indoor furniture and indeed some London based cabinet makers have even documented obtaining usable timber from recently felled London Planes.

Tomb of the Tradescants
The Tradescant Tomb at St Mary’s, Lambeth

And it is this that takes us to the physics part of the cafe-physics review. Perhaps it is the areas (and the parks) that I walk through, but it seems to me that there has been a fair amount of tree felling in London over the last six months or so. Part of the reason for this must be to ensure that the trees in our parks and that line our streets are safe and not going to fall down in high winds. Many trees that fall down in high winds do so because they get uprooted. However it is also possible, in very high winds for the whole tree to snap. Indeed, when researchers mapped the wind speeds through a forested area of Southern France during a storm in January 2009 they found that when the wind speed exceeded ~40 m/s (90 miles per hour), more than 50% of the trees broke in the wind, irrespective of whether these trees were softwood (pine) or hardwood (oak). A very recent paper by a Paris-based group (published last week in the journal Physical Review E) confirmed that irrespective of the species of tree or the tree height, the trunks of trees were liable to snap at a critical wind speed. The team combined experiment and theory to establish that the critical wind speed scaled with the tree’s diameter and height. However, because trees generally treble their diameter as they double their height, the effect of the diameter change was (almost) cancelled by the height difference between trees. Surprisingly, this critical wind speed did not depend on the elasticity of the tree, so there is no difference between a softwood such as pine and a hardwood like oak or plane. The researchers calculated the critical wind speed needed to break a tree to be 56 m/s, very close to the 40 m/s observed in that January storm.

Lumberjack can be found at 70 Camberwell Church St, SE5 8QZ

If you have a cafe that you think needs a cafe physics review, please let me know. Comments always welcome, please click the box below.