by Matt Charney

See, North Star Fine Coffees provides a gourmet five star rated fresh roasted, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah.  I’ve had this explained to me, but James Beard I’m not.  So I won’t belabor North Star’s gourmet credentials.  Simplified, it means they make exceptionally good coffee, and it’s easily the best coffee I’ve ever had.  Sorry Dad. 

**Full disclaimer: I am receiving no monetary compensation for writing this testimonial, but instead, complimentary North Star coffee.

But of course, I didn’t receive the complimentary North Star Coffee in exchange for writing this article!  I got it because one day, I saw a question posted on a popular social networking website (figure it out, they don’t need the SEO help). 

It was a pretty good prompt, and I think I probably just quaffed a quad shot.  So I wrote a detailed exposition to the oh so deep Web 2.0 query:  How do you make coffee Gen Y would want to buy?  Or something in that rhyme scheme.

My answer then, as now, is this: I’m a Gen Y member.  Have you ever been in a 7-11 and wondered who in the hell orders those cringe inducing coffee-energy drink fusions?  Who was the target market for the inexplicable Coca Cola Blak?  That’s my generation, baby.

In other words, we don’t really care about where the coffee comes from (obviously, a bottling plant will do).  The threshold of acceptable quality is non-existent.  We want three things: it’s got to be fast, convenient and have enough stimulants to help us get through another day, as we’re recent comers to the wage slave trade.

To my surprise, the CEO of the company, Bryan-David Scott wrote me back the next day, asking if he could ask me a few more questions.  I warned him that I knew as much about coffee as Stevie Wonder knew about guiding tours.  Which is to say, not a lot.  He called anyway.

He told me about North Star Fine Coffees, and what he was trying to do.  I expressed skepticism at the ability of a start-up wholesaler with zero name recognition to make a dent in the hypercompetitive upscale coffee category (put much less delicately).  His impassioned response: “It’s the best coffee you’ll ever taste.”  

To be honest, I tuned out the parts about the awards the coffee’s won, the global itinerary of the locally sourced beans, the sophisticated roasting process.  See, that only sounds like copywriting generalities because I don’t remember specifics.  Cross my heart.

He must have sensed this, because he offered to send me some to try before continuing the conversation.  The catch?  I had to tell him what I thought.  Honestly.  So, I told him my address, as it seemed a fair trade, which matters in coffee these days. 

Only a few days later, however, a guy shows up with a huge package.  From UPS.  Stop smirking.  Inside, a huge wicker gift basket immaculately wrapped in a neat little bow (for crying out loud), which, being a guy, was completely lost on me.  My girlfriend, on the other hand, loved it, informing me when she saw it the wicker basket was, in fact, a coffee cup resting on a saucer.  I have it on good faith that it’s the cutest thing in the world.  She actually gave it to her Mom for a gift (now that’s value), and I have it on faith that it fits great on the counter, right next to the coffee maker!

I, on the other hand, went straight for the homemade biscotti.  Yeah.  Unexpected, but welcomed.  It was, as you can deduct, amazing, because you don’t really go the biscotti route if you aren’t damn well sure what you’re doing.  And they go great with coffee.

I got three kinds: North Star’s Black Label, Seattle Reign, and L’Chaim.  Being a Jew, I first opted for North Star’s Black Label.  The L’Chaim would wait until last, so I could display it in my cupboard of irony next to the “Heroes of the Torah” drinking glass set.

click here for the conclusion