Last Friday I went to a coffee tasting event. My friend had a free extra ticket and on a whim, I joined him. I hadn’t really thought much of what would happen during the tasting, I was just excited for the free coffee. I guess I pictured something along the lines of a room full of people getting to know each other and discussing which coffees they preferred, sort of like a coffee social. However, upon entering the coffee shop, I was taken aback by the precise setup of the situation. Each table had 5 glass cups filled half way with different grounds with detailed card descriptions beside them. Even though my friend said that the event was booked, there were only about 20 people in the entire shop, including the owner and staff. Instead of open conversation amongst us, the vibe was more private and my friend and I kept to ourselves. The group was in the millennial age group, with no one over the age of 35. Their collective attire screamed casual prep, and I imagined all of the outfits originating from the J Crew or Madewell store catalogs. They were not your average hipster coffee enthusiasts, these people seemed to be have some higher degree in Coffee Studies from the College of Beans. It felt like my friend and I had stepped into a scene reminiscent of an episode of Portlandia, but this was for real.

At the start of the event, the owner of store and host of the event gave an introduction. I thought he would give a short run down of the different coffee we would be trying, however the short talk turned into a 35-minute lecture. Most of the thing he talked about went way over my head and I realized was way out of my league in attending this event. Apparently, what I had stumbled upon was not just a tasting but a “cupping” event. In the host’s description, I gathered that in this tasting, we would use a specific method in order to fully grasp the essence of the coffee. This was serious business. Apparently, unbeknownst to me, everyone in attendance were either avid coffee bloggers, or a part of the “home barista” web group.

Back to the lecture, our host was droning on about how the “berry impregnates the coffee bean” and the process differentiates the beans in the natural and washed processes. He also threw serious shade at establishments such as Dunkin Donuts saying their “trash grade commodity” coffee was a disgrace due to the unfiltered batches which contain coffee bean defects. He then proceeded to pass around a cup of “defectives”, which literally just looked to me like broken coffee beans.

In one of my favorite parts of the night, our host demonstrated the proper way to test different coffee samples. The process termed “cupping” involves an extremely precise and specific way to first prepare the sample and then ingest it. Although I could not possibly remember the exact timing or temperature involved in the process, I remember that there consisted of very hot water being poured into a cup with measured coffee grounds, and waiting times in between mixing, and tasting the sample. I could not replicate the process even if I tried, and probably got it wrong in the first place.

The most ridiculous part of the entire night was something I could never forget. I was under the impression that we would either drink spoonfuls of the coffee, or take sips from the glasses, however I was told this naïve assumption would “ruin” the coffee experience. According to our host, in order to fully involve your sensory potential, “one must slurp the mixture as to forcibly spray it across the back of the throat in order to fully coat the entire region and douse all of your receptors in the experience.” I wish I could transcribe into words the sound of his demonstration. It was a slurp with the force magnitude I did not think possible of the human mouth. The sound of the slurp and the aggressive expression his face took while doing so had me shook. The entire rest of the room stood watching in awe, eager, I could tell, to try it for themselves.

After having already coming to the conclusion that this was not my thing after our host gave the coffee bags feminine pronouns, (for example in him saying “she has a bold flavor” in referring to the beans, not a person) this slurp put me over the edge. However, my friend and I, instead of bailing, decided to fully embrace the opportunity before us. We gave each other fake millennial names: me as Paisley and him as Persimmon, and gathered around the glasses of grounds to begin the charade. Sitting down at the table among our new coffee cultist friends, we decided to carry out the cupping process, and yes, do the slurp.

While our fellow tablemates found hints of “key lime pie” and “bergamot” in their samples, I could not detect any transcendental flavors other than the underwhelming taste of watered down coffee. Our millennial pals on the other hand had a field day with their cups. In meticulously documenting the essences gathered from the slurps onto notecards, they analyzed, contemplated, and assessed the grounds as if it were a life or death challenge.

Perhaps my taste buds were having an off day, or I failed to perform the infamous slurp correctly, but I found it impossible to garner a more insightful conclusion than: this coffee tastes like coffee. While it was fun to live the life of a coffee connoisseur for a few hours, I’m just glad to have gotten a free buzz out of it.