Caffeine Rush

Over breakfast, as we checked in on what had been forecast to be another dreadful day of weather, we were stunned to discover our luck had changed. Apparently, overnight, both the figurative and literal winds had shifted, and we were now due an afternoon of relative sunshine. Even better yet, the elements appear primed to bless us for the remainder of the weekend. (If only I felt more confident about the prediction.)

We still needed to wait out a bit of rain, though, so we started the day with a bit of lighthearted amusement. One of the small joys of visiting Norway is seeing our name plastered everywhere–on road signs, city names, restaurants, storefronts, you name it. Foss Sport is a sporting goods store located in Strømmen, just a short jaunt east of Oslo and our hotel, and a visit seemed pertinent. Alas, their inventory showed depth but not breadth. Skiers and hardcore trailblazers, look no further. But American tennis players are likely to strike out (mixed sports metaphors. See what I did there?).

And then, at last, it was time. (Apologies in advance for the incoming idolatry.) Tim Wendelboe is a legend in the coffee industry, a winner of both the World Barista Championship and the World Tasters Cup. His eponymous espresso bar, located in Grunerløkka, has been described as a shop that “feels like a neighborhood coffee shop that is run like a Michelin starred restaurant,” and that characterization has proven true in both of my visits.

In 2019, on a rainy weekday morning, we popped into a quiet, mostly uninhabited café, where I enjoyed their signature take on a cappuccino freddo. Today’s experience was wildly different. It is unclear to me if this was due to the weather, a shift in attitudes towards specialty coffees in Oslo, or something else entirely, but on this day the café was in full flight, maintaining a steady line to the door and a full queue of Aeropress orders for nearly the entire two hours of our stay.

I am sure that, to the untrained eye, the scene behind the bar seemed chaotic, but, to the contrary, one of the many things that impressed me today was the clear delegation and communication of tasks among the three baristas on duty. What’s more, I witnessed several small but important details that demonstrated the world class attention to quality for which TW has become famous: a wide range of technical knowledge from all three of the employees; clear skill in transforming a “no” answer into a new opportunity; and, perhaps most impressively, I witnessed the baristas rejecting and remaking time-consuming beverages that were not up to their standards, even in the midst of peak business. Barista skill is of course a combination of speed and precision, but it is my view that the specialty industry must be allowed to prioritize quality and correctness over celerity. Today’s visit displayed coffee operating at its highest level.

My dad and I partook in TW’s coffee tasting flight, wherein we were served four different coffees in two pairs of two, sequenced in a pattern that would allow insightful comparisons between coffees that shared characteristics but also differed in some particular way. Your mileage will vary with this experience, of course, depending on your palate and your interest in coffee tasting. It should surprise nobody that I fall on the “giddy fanboy” end of this spectrum. The coffees were, in a word, stunning; Tim Wendelboe is known in the industry for his coffee sourcing abilities, and this tasting put them on full display. His Gachatha coffee from Kenya was perhaps my favorite coffee I have ever tasted. (Yes, Lionhearters, I am bringing a bag.) I left his café as inspired as I was caffeinated.

We filled much of the afternoon with more delightful comestibles. Soulcake is a peppy cupcake and sweet shop just a few doors over from TW that would make Trixie Mattel proud, with both its interior and its staff sporting neon pink in unapologetic quantity. The caramel apple crumble cupcake I had was divine.

You might have thought we didn’t need to experience another waffle here–and you’d be right–but Harald’s Vaffel has a reputation too storied to ignore. As the tale goes, when owner Jonathan opened his waffle stand (named Harald’s not after himself, but rather the king of Norway), health authorities forced him to close due to some paperwork-related squabble. The ensuing uproar resulted in Norway’s second most read news story of the year and a swift reversal of the decision. The rest, as they say, is history. Harald’s was the encapsulation of a perfect food experience for me: straightforward, no frills, just damn good food prepared by somebody who has honed a singular skill to its pinnacle. Both of us opted for the pølse + vaffel–a hot dog-adjacent sausage with ketchup, mustard and fried onions wrapped in a waffle–for a totally different perspective on the staple. I have absolutely no notes. They were marvelous.

We hadn’t had enough food, so we made one more stop at Mathallen Oslo, another spot like yesterday’s Barcode Street Food that features a wide variety of food stalls as well as a couple gift shops. We actually came here in 2019 as well, but I hadn’t remembered before stepping through the doors. There, I enjoyed yet another pourover, this time from Solberg & Hansen, supposedly Norway’s oldest specialty coffee roaster if their branding is to be believed. This coffee was also stellar. Despite my place in the coffee industry–or perhaps because of it–I never get to have days like this where I wander through multiple shops, stopping to savor and enjoy the beverage and the experience. I truly relished this opportunity today.

One last piece worth mentioning, and I promise it isn’t coffee related: amidst our stall hopping, we wandered into a bookstore to kill a little time before the opening hours of one of our stops (later opening times, even as late as 2 p.m., have been common here and strike a very clear contrast with the U.S.). A thought struck me, and I wondered if there was a small chance I might locate a copy of my favorite book printed in Norwegian. As if drawn by some mystical magnetism, I meandered upstairs, walked in a random direction, and halted directly in front of the shop’s last remaining copy of The Phantom Tollbooth–in this case, Den Magiske Bomstasjonen. Over the years, I’ve collected many versions of the book, from my original paperback, to the anniversary edition, to a signed copy. What a thrill it will be to add this unlikely specimen to my shelf.