Our 1942 Blend was created by my son, David Higgins, as a tribute to his grandfather. who began H.R.Higgins (Coffee-man) Ltd. in April 1942 during the dark days of the Second World War. His fledgling business had to be wholesale only at first, because he could not afford ground-floor premises and, as he said, you couldn’t expect retail customers to climb five flights of stairs to his attic.
It was there, two years later, that I climbed those stairs, gradually becoming aware of the wonderful aroma of freshly roasting coffee. It was on that first visit that he made me my first cup of coffee – well, it was a bowl of coffee, a tasting bowl. He didn’t consider it necessary to have cups and saucers when the tasting bowls were there ready to hand! I remember cupping my hands around the very warm bowl and taking my first sip, which probably changed my life forever.
He worked all hours of the day and night to get the business running and, in June 1946, opened our first shop on the ground floor and basement of 42 South Molton Street. It was there we roasted coffee, sending the enticing aroma to everyone coming into Oxford Street from Bond Street underground station. We continued there until 1986, when we moved to our present location, 79 Duke Street – a stone’s throw from where he started.
I joined the company straight from school in the summer of 1953 as a junior trainee. One of my early memories with my father, which I don’t think I have shared with anyone, is making my father’s first cup of coffee of the day.
My father and I were always first to arrive at the shop and, after I had got the shop ready to open, my next job was preparing his first cup of coffee. This was a most important event – that first cup seemed to set the tone for the day.
He spent time teaching me how to prepare it. He would vary the variety, and I would take instruction and prepare it using his favourite method of the time, a French Cafetiere made by the company Pilivite. It was fireproof and one of the few makers that could go directly onto a low naked flame. It was a pour-over filter, but unlike the pour-over filters we use in the coffee room today, it was much slower in filtering, so being able to go onto a low heat was a great advantage. I include a picture which may stir memories for you from your past.
The French Cafetiere was quite tricky to use. To start with, the coffee had to be ground to a precise degree – quite a coarse grind; too many fine particles and you were in trouble, too coarse and the flavour of the prepared coffee was much too weak and disappointing. By modern standards it was extravagant with the amount of ground coffee it required, but it made a lovely cup of coffee when you got all the elements just right.
My father was very firm and precise in what he expected – fair, always approachable. He enjoyed teaching and sharing knowledge, and I became aware that I was on a journey to unlock the secrets of the coffee bean – a journey he had made and was now seeking to share with me. He was an inspiration, so naturally I wanted to please him with his first cup of the day.
I remember carefully carrying the prepared coffee from the kitchen area in the basement of 42 South Molton Street, past the silent coffee roasting machine that was waiting for me to start it and begin my next lesson, to where my father, working on yesterday’s figures in the back office, was awaiting that first coffee. As time went by, I became less nervous, and he would greet me with, “Here he is with the best cup of coffee of the day!” I became quite an expert; it is amazing how a little praise can go a long way. With his praise, I felt the day had begun well, no matter what pitfalls the rest of the day might bring me.
But I didn’t keep that task for very long. The day came when I got promoted – well let’s just say that someone more junior than me started in the business, and it was my job to teach her how my father liked his first coffee and how to prepare it. She was understandably nervous. I sympathised and encouraged her – she would get the hang of it, and she did. Sometimes, after seeing all was well, I would wait on the stairs as she carefully took in his coffee. I knew what would happen; sure enough, I heard his voice: “Here she is with the best cup of coffee of the day!” I had been superseded in that department, but I didn’t mind – I knew that she would walk on cloud nine for a little while.
Sometimes, when we have a new barista bringing me my first cup of coffee at Duke Street, I sense a little apprehension, and it reminds me of when I prepared my father’s first cup of the day.
1942 has become one of our most popular blends and, though David created it for espresso makers, I have yet to find the method that fails to show its rich, full flavour. It prepares well in pour-overs, cafetieres, or AeroPress. It makes for a perfect finish to a meal or to enjoy with a pastry at any time of the day.
Perhaps, like my father, there is a time in your day when that vital cup of coffee becomes your best cup of the day. A fine cup of coffee can hold so many memories. I hope you enjoy our 1942 Blend.
Sincerely,
Tony Higgins
