London Coffee Festival 2016

There is a quote from Moliere that equates writing to prostitution as "first you do it for love, then for a few close friends, then for money." As someone who peddles his wares as a writer, I feel this analogy is not entirely incorrect. But, what then, of the profession I left to pursue writing?
I started out as a low-level coffee jock slinging cappuccinos to the yummy mummies and faceless suits who were staring me down across the counter. I was good at my job, I was warm, polite and knew what I was doing but I did the one thing you should never do: I fell in love. Now an obsessive, love sick fool, I will do anything to be around coffee. I love the smell, the taste, the feeling it gives me when it's inside me, but I'm not a jealous lover; no, no, in fact, quite the opposite. I am all for free love, share the joy around!
It is the desire to include people in my euphoria that led me to nervously stumbling through the entrance of the Old Truman Brewery with a dear friend of mine and hoping beyond hope they would enjoy the London Coffee Festival. If I am being completely honest, I'd never thought I'd be able to entreat anyone to join me at such an event. My obsessions are well documented but why would anyone else want to go to a coffee festival?
Apparently, quite a few people are interested in the caffeinated beverage as arrival at Brick Lane was greeted by a queue spanning half the length of the adjoining Hanbury Street. Fortunately, in my fervour for the brown liquid, I had booked a VIP ticket and so could sweep past the crowd and straight in, where I was immediately handed a goodie bag and directed through an exclusive room filled with its own bar & DJ
Petrified of what my friend might think, and not knowing what to expect, I was relieved to be handed a free Baileys coffee, not only because alcohol calms the nerves but a free thing is inherently a good thing.
Easing into the festivities a little more, the first sight we came across was an art project focussed on coffee, its growers and producers and how it can profoundly affect people. One such image was on how coffee can lead the mind to greater things, I'm not so sure of that but then I do rather see it as my lifeblood on certain weekdays so there may be some truth in the thinking. Further along were biro portraits on coffee bags next to stunning recreations of humanity from coffee grounds. Perhaps coffee does lead to creativity but, in this case, not from drinking it.
Once past the gallery, the corridor opens out into a vast hall bustling with vibrant noise and ringed by stalls and stands displaying all manner of specialised accoutrements, high end brewing tech and unique blends and flavours of the bean itself.
There, in the centre of it all, two podiums side by side are flanked by rows of benches, screens and intrigued onlookers as top baristas battled it out for supremacy in the Coffee Masters tournament. A head to head set-up saw the competition broken down into four disciplines of the art of coffee : cupping, brewing, latte art and timed orderCupping saw competitors given a selection of coffees to taste in which they would then have to pinpoint in which area of the globe they were grown. A notoriously hard business since taste can vary so greatly with each roast and brew. I've tried similar things in the past with wildly different results.
Brewing then saw each barista choose their favoured blend and try and brew it to perfection using their own technique and choice of drink. This shouldn't be too hard for someone who really knows their their craft but an individual's taste can be incredibly subjective and so it is almost impossible to gauge which way the judges will go.
Latte art sees a die with a selection of patterns on rolled and then each person has to make a latte with the corresponding pattern on top, drawn using the frothed milk used in a latte, with marks given on who is closest to the original image in size and shape.
"Could you do that?" my friend asks.
"No," I reply. "I only learnt two basic shapes."
This is technically true but anyone who has mastered these shapes could then, in theory, go on and be able to do the more complex patterns that are presented on the die but I sure as hell couldn't do them to competition standard.
Timed orders brings the arrival of a docket to each opponent, containing 10 drink orders of which they have to complete in nine minutes. You are marked on how many you can complete in that time along with taste, technique and professionalism which involves keeping your work space clean and having no spillages. This discipline has practical applications in a cafe environment as it improves turnover.
After the winner of the round was declared, progressing onto the semi-finals, we progressed around the room to each stall. Gleaming, whirring equipment oozing thick, black, tar-like coffee or glass globules attached to each other via translucent tubes dripping brown, watery coffee,  food that goes with coffee and, to a lesser degree, alternatives to coffee were all on display.
Once the downstairs section had been circumnavigated, we were directed to the upper echelons of the former brewery where as we rose, so did the heat. Here was a similar set-up but instead of an area of battle at the centre, there was a faux garden, complete with astro turf grass and picnic tables, that was flanked at either end with a bar serving espresso martinis and a stage where musicians would gaily thrash out tunes tunes to the uninterested crowd.
Previously I had spotted a coffee liqueur that had taken my eye and so I decided to try it in martini form to see if it piqued my interest. Handing over the little blue chip that came with my VIP ticket, I was returned a drink so dangerous that I'm surprised it was even legal. Not being able to tell which was stronger, the coffee or the alcohol, I swallowed it down in two gulps and hoped for the best.
Despite this, when later I would come across a second Baileys stand, I would not hesitate to try one of their cocktails. The premise was simple, the slogan 'When Baileys met coffee' succinctly explained that they were marketing their Irish cream as something that could be complimented by an array of cocktails featuring coffee such as the flat white martini, the salted caramel latte martini and many others that I can't quite remember probably due to alcohol related memory loss.
What was the real showstopper however, was where the company had teamed up with the East London cupcake maker 'Molly's Bakes' to create the 'Baileys Coffee Freak Shake', a milkshake of such epic proportions that if the sheer gut-busting quantity alone didn't kill you then the sugar and alcohol may well do.
Baileys and coffee mixed into an ice cream milkshake that was then poured into a mason jar ringed with chocolate sauce along the inside, this was then topped with whipped cream, chocolate and a mini brownie. A somewhat daunting prospect as it is heaved over the bar towards you , straw optimistically lodged upright in the concoction as a spoon is then handed over in a more realistic stance towards consumption.
As I ploughed through this gorgeous monstrosity, pausing to converse and allow each sugared layer to settle in my stomach, I was aware of a camera filming the most undignified manner I went about seeing off this delectable edible but, paying it no heed, I continued on regardless. It was only when I turned to leave, triumphant in the defeat of a most formidable foe , that a piece of paper was waved under my nose asking if I would sign my life away for the slightest of possibilities that I might appear in some sort of promotional material. I willingly agreed.
Returning to the main floor, we surged forth to discover more wonders such as cupping master classes and coffee flavoured beer. The place was still rammed, all except one tiny stand in the corner that was almost uniformly ignored by all. It was slightly amusing to note it belonged to mass muck pushers Illy, who were struggling for attention in a place where craft coffee was king. That's not to say people found them objectionable but they had just chosen the wrong crowd.
Closing time was upon us and it occurred to me we had spent the whole day there. Another perk of the VIP ticket was that you weren't constrained to a set time period like the standard tickets and so we had leisurely ambled about  suspecting we'd be finished far too quickly otherwise but we needn't have worried. I do hope I can entice my friend to go again because I certainly will.