maxonemillion

Fun fact about me: I fucking hate weak coffee. It’s among the most disappointing ways to start any day. In the words of a former coworker, “If light can escape it, it’s not dark enough, and if there’s enamel left on my teeth after a cup, it’s not fucking strong enough.” Okay, so that’s a little hyperbolus,  but the point is, regardless of all the care and effort that some people put into the brewing and presentation of coffee — don’t forget that there are entire cultures and industries that thrive on such things — people drink coffee (even decaf, which is not uncaf) for it’s effects. And I like a powerful effect.

Imagine my delight when I learned about Black Blood of the Earth. Concocted and brewed by a guy named Phil Broughton in East Oakland, this stuff packs 40 (yes 40) times the caffeine of regular coffee. This information was shared with me by a friend and coworker, fellow Oakland neighborhood dweller, and strong coffee appreciator, and she ordered a 750ml bottle of the stuff, which Broughton personally delivered to her a couple weeks ago.

I was working at home the day after he delivered the bottle, so after I dropped off my daughter at school, and before I’d had any coffee or breakfast, I walked over to my friend’s house and we cracked the seal on the cold caffeinated elixir, a Sumatra extract. (Broughton brews a few varieties, including a Columbian, a couple of Guatemalan, and a blend he calls “Death Wish,” for which he cannot calculate the the exact strength…as in, it’s way too strong. “By my rough calculation, you’ve got about the equivalent of a month and half’s worth of caffeination by Starbuck’s Ventis in that bottle.”)

We started with the recommended dose in a cold shot: 10ml, or two teaspoons. This is a ridiculously small amount of liquid — literally a couple of thimbles full — but keeping in mind that this stuff contains 40x the caffeine of regular coffee, and this is Broughton’s suggested starting serving for BBotE for beginners, it seemed a logical first step. Just to put this in perspective, 10ml of BBotE is the equivalent of 400ml of regular coffee, or about 13.5 oz, approximately one to two standard diner mugs full. (Standard restaurant coffee mugs usually contain eight to ten ounces…less actual coffee if you dump in a bunch of those little plastic containers of Carnation creamer and processed sugar packets.)

I expected a big, brutal hit of coffee essence, the kind of bitter, concentrated punch that I imagined a super distilled, super caffeinated brew would pack. But I was wrong, and pleasantly surprised. The brew contained a ton of rich flavor — it tasted like a coffee roasting room smells — but there was no bitterness whatsoever. It was light on the palette, almost refreshing, with no acidity, seemingly the kind of thing I could drink all day…though this would be ill advised.

Pleased and emboldened by the tacit nature of our first foray into cold BBotE, we then tried an alternate serving suggestion, mixing 10ml with three tablespoons of hot water. As with the cold shot, there were no unpleasant variables in the taste; the hot water slightly enriched the coffee flavor, but also watered down the viscosity a bit, making the mixture tea-like, with a soothing, roasty-flavored, a light see-through brown color (usually the last thing I want to see in coffee) with an ultra-thin and oily film on top, and it went down easy. Too easy.

We stopped drinking after one more 10ml cold shot, at 30ml each — 10ml with hot water, and a total of 20ml straight and cold — which is roughly the equivalent of drinking 40oz of coffee, all within about 15 minutes. Fucking nuts. And therein lies the problem…

While I really, really enjoyed the flavor, smoothness and all around beguiling drinkability of BBotE, and found myself wanting to keep drinking it (specifically, keep sipping it hot), I was super jacked up by the time I walked the two blocks back to my apartment, and as I mentioned earlier, continued intake would be ill advised. Make no mistake: This stuff is rocket fuel, meant to be had in very small doses, and any continual consumption should be carefully meted out in measured, gradual servings through the day (which is how Broughton himself consumes it).

It does exactly what drinks like 5 Hour Energy claim to do, without the associated unpleasantness (an acquaintance recently tried 5 Hour Energy for the first time and described it as “being mouth-raped by the Grape Ape”) — BBotE it contains no calories, doesn’t stain teeth, doesn’t induce gut-wreck, doesn’t taste like shit, won’t contribute to the onset of diabetes (because it doesn’t needed added sugar to make it palatable), and one $40 750ml bottle will keep for three months in the refrigerator. It’s a highly efficient, economical and, frankly, deceptively tasty way to consume mass amounts of caffeine.

While BBotE is strictly for people who need a pick-me-up without all the cumbersome pomp-and-circumstance that goes along with coffee, everything from the standard brewing processes to the culture that surrounds it, this stuff has no time for the triviality of all that. As I said before, there’s an industry and a culture surrounding the preparation and consumption of coffee. People enjoy extracting their java from ground beans, they enjoy percolating and French roasting and dripping and steam-pressuring their coffee. They enjoy queuing up and ordering their venti extra hot half-caf-nonfat whatevers with a twist or extra foam, and sipping it over time at the table on the sidewalk, or as they peruse the morning news, run through their inboxes, whatever they do to start their days. For the vast majority of coffee drinkers, it’s not just about the buzz, but that is the final destination, the ultimate payoff. It’s the process, the grand gestures of brewing, ordering and consuming that helps justify the addiction. BBotE may be too straight-to-the-point for most coffee drinkers.

But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t give it a shot. Just be careful.

Phil Broughton is a scientist, currently a radiation specialist at UC Berkeley, so don’t go trying to make stuff like this at home, kids…or do, I don’t really care. To learn more about Broughton, Black Blood of the Earth and his other endeavors, or to order your very own bottle of this stuff, point your web browser to www.funraniumlabs.com.