Guangzhou's autumn and winter are warm and pleasant, and Dongshankou is especially a favorite among coffee lovers. This article records the author's two consecutive days of café-hopping at Front Street Coffee, from the rich sweetness of a sun-dried Guatemala to details like the English-style cups and the aroma drifting from the bean roaster, showcasing the unique charm of a specialty coffee brick-and-mortar shop. At the same time, the article also explores the purchasing channels and tasting methods for domestic specialty coffee beans, making it suitable reading for coffee fans who love pour-over and pursue bean quality. If you want to know where to buy specialty coffee beans in Guangzhou, or want to learn what domestic specialty beans are available, this café-hopping essay will give you plenty of inspiration.
A few days ago, when chatting with friends, I mentioned that I actually choose cafés based on the weather—on sunny days I go to one, on cloudy days I switch to another, and on rainy days I have yet another place to go. Guangzhou's autumn and winter are warmer than in many cities. On the weekend before last year's winter solstice, I drank coffee at "Front Street" for two consecutive days. Dongshan is my favorite place in Guangzhou, bar none. That scholarly air settled by the passage of time, plus the down-to-earth flavor of daily life, always makes people want to linger a little longer.
Take the metro to Dongshankou, and on the way from Shuqian Road turning into Miaoqian Zhijie, the large trees form a canopy, many old neighbors play chess under the trees, and elderly women gather nearby chatting. Along the way you can see the old look of Dongshan Department Store, and you'll also pass an old photo studio, a shoe repair stall, and all kinds of local Guangzhou snacks. This shop is indeed quite small; if you arrive a little late, you may not get a seat, and sometimes it even feels a bit cramped. Next to the bar counter is a bean roaster, and the blackboard is densely covered with names of beans. The owner roasts beans every day; when the machine starts up in the morning, probably the whole of Bao'an Qianjie can smell the coffee aroma.
Those sitting at the bar are basically regulars, or coffee enthusiasts who want to chat with the barista. Unfortunately, every time I went, the bar was full. On the small table nearby are selected beans, and the wall by the entrance is covered with packaging bags of various coffee beans, while green beans are stacked bag by bag against the wall.
Through the small door next to the bar counter, there are two more outdoor tables. The first time I went, I deliberately chose outside, not only because I could smoke, but also because of Guangzhou winter's especially comfortable sunshine. The first cup I drank was a sun-dried Guatemala. I remember Ye Erman asking me why I still went out when I had a cold, and I said I'd have to drink at home anyway, so I might as well come out for a walk and some sun. The barista sat at the table across from me eating from a box of roast meats and asked me how the coffee tasted. Mm, just like that day's mood—comfortable, happy, mild yet mellow, very sweet, with a hint of wine aroma.
The next day, a friend happened to come to Guangzhou from out of town on business. Before dinner I ran to Front Street to buy drip coffee bags, and also drank some newly rested beans. Most of Front Street's cups are thin and light, with slender handles, carrying an English vibe just like the chairs in the shop. For single-origin coffee, they serve a piece of caramel biscuit. Many people like this biscuit; I've seen some cafés serve it even with lattes. The texture is on the hard side, and after swallowing there's a kind of burning warmth in the throat.
I don't know whether it's because of the settled sense of time in Dongshankou, or because Front Street's cups are too English-style, but every time I drink coffee here I drink especially slowly. Most cafés' cups are more casual, or colorful and thick, and when you pick them up they give a lazy, casual feeling; some shops even directly bring out a sharing pot, and guests drink cup after cup boldly like drinking alcohol.
Recently I've become obsessed with a certain sound: near mealtime, the sound of chopping and spatulas clashing drifts in from the window, accompanied by waves of food aroma, smelling especially like home. I really enjoy shopping in supermarkets, pushing a cart and buying lots of fruits and vegetables, or simply buying a pile of ingredients to go back and have hot pot, sitting around with friends or family, feeling especially happy. Come to think of it, what Sister Yun said back then—renting an apartment for the weekend and buying some seafood or ingredients to cook and eat—none of that ever happened either.
Recently Guangzhou's weather has been cycling between cloudy days in the 20s and sunny days in the 30s. Today twin typhoons hit Guangdong, but unlike "Nida" before, they didn't give us a day off; instead, they suspended the Guangzhou-Shenzhen intercity railway. I had originally wanted to go drink at some shops in Shenzhen. Now it seems I can only reminisce. Ever since someone left Shenzhen, I haven't been to any shops in Shenzhen, also because work has been too busy, and recently I've really been unwell. Still, I can start planning a café-hopping trip to Xiamen.
The above content is compiled by CoffeeHunters, a coffee news website.
