The “wagon men” of the Jewel Tea Company delivered
coffee door-to-door, giving out “advanced premiums” to
lock housewives into purchase plans.
As shown in this 1921 ad,
coffee has always provided
the pick-me-up that helps
workers get through their
day—providing a drug
instead of rest, according to
some critics.
G. Washington, the
first major instant
coffee, was so popular
during World War I that
dough-boys asked for
“a cup of George.”
Motorized vehicles revolutionized coffee
delivery in the early twentieth century.
By the 1930s, coffee was
taking to the air.
Alice Foote MacDougall
clawed her way to success
in the man’s coffee world,
creating a chain of New
York coffeehouses in the
1920s. “Fight, fight, fight
until you win,” she wrote.
“It is this kind of
determination that man has
acquired through long
generations, and the woman
who is to conquer in the
business world must acquire
it too if she is to succeed.”
Still, she thought women
should not be allowed to
vote.
In the 1920s, Alice Foote MacDougall was inspired by a
trip to Italy and replicated Italian decor in her elaborate
New York coffeehouses.
In this 1934 cartoon ad (only one panel shown
here), Chase & Sanborn provides alarming
evidence that wife-battering was apparently
acceptable, understandable behavior during the
Depression—especially if the husband didn’t
like the coffee. The company hoped that
terrified wives would purchase Chase &
Sanborn in hopes of avoiding such
confrontations.
In Depression-era cartoons, “Mr. Coffee
Nerves” created havoc, only to be “foiled
again” by Postum.
This racist ad helped sell
Maxwell House Coffee, just
as the characters on the
popular radio show did. The
sound effects and acting
were so convincing that
many listeners waited
hopefully on wharves for
the mythical Show Boat.
Coming out of the Depression, Chase &
Sanborn identified itself with the new jitterbug
craze at the 1939 New York World’s Fair.
In 1937, Mae West appeared on the “Chase &
Sanborn Hour,” lewdly calling dummy Charlie
McCarthy “all wood and a yard long.” But it
was her Adam and Eve skit, in which she
praised the serpent as a “palpitatin’ python,”
that nearly got the show thrown off the air.
Coffee rediscovered its
homeland in Africa during
the 1930s, though in Kenya
most of the coffee growers
were white. Hence this
racist ad from 1937.
In 1941, first lady Eleanor Roosevelt reached
millions of listeners with her radio show, “Over
the Coffee Cups,” sponsored by the Pan
American Coffee Bureau.
For exhausted GIs fresh
from the front lines of
World War II, coffee was
essential. It is little wonder
that U.S. per capita
consumption peaked just
after the war.
U.S. soldiers would do almost anything for hot
coffee during World War II, including wasting
all their matches in the attempt.
During the 1950s, instant
coffee provided middle-
class Americans a quick,
convenient, cheap pick-me-
up—without concern for
quality.
The “coffee break”—as a
phrase and concept—was
invented in 1952 by the Pan
American Coffee Bureau. It
quickly be-came a part of
the language, as evidenced
by this cartoon book.
In his early teen heartthrob days, Frank Sinatra
sang “The Coffee Song,” which immortalized
“an awful lot of coffee in Brazil.”
Chock full o’ Nuts became a best-selling coffee
in New York through such ads, once more
playing the sexist theme.
During the fifties, coffee became an accepted
part of American life, sanctioned by the police
as an aid to safety.
In 1954, when outraged Americans blamed Brazil for
artificially boosting coffee prices, the Brazilian
government flew U.S. housewives down to Paraná to see
the frost damage for themselves.
In a desperate attempt to compete with the
bigger corporations, family-owned Hills
Brothers stooped to ads in the 1960s claiming
that its coffee could be reheated without
damage.
Beginning in 1960, the
mythical Juan Valdez sold
Colombian coffee in the
United States. Today, the
actor who plays him owns a
silk-screen T-shirt factory
along with a coffee farm,
where he pays others to
grow his crop.
Muppeteer Jim Henson launched his career in
1957 with coffee ads for Wilkins Coffee in
which puppet Wontkins, who refused to drink
the right coffee, was shot, branded, drowned,
clubbed, slashed, frozen, and blown up.
Alfred Peet, a Dutch
immigrant, fathered the U.S.
specialty coffee movement
at his Berkeley coffee shop,
which opened in 1966. He
is shown here cupping
coffee in Kenya with Jim
Reynolds, another coffee
pioneer, at left.
Despite this 1970 effort to
attract the baby boom
hippies, the coffee industry
lost out to the Pepsi
Generation.
In 1971, partners Jerry Baldwin, Gordon Bowker, and
Zev Siegl (left to right) founded Starbucks in Seattle,
selling fresh-roasted whole beans to local customers.
In the early 1970s, Erna
Knutsen fought her way
into the male-dominated
cupping room and became
the doyenne of specialty
coffee importers, seeking
out her “green jewels.”
In the 1970s, consciencestricken liberals began
to worry more about the plight of the
campesino, who often received starvation
wages while middlemen and roasters profited.
This cartoon appeared in 1976.
After starring in Father
Knows Best and Marcus
Welby, MD, actor Robert
Young was the perfect
pitchman for Sanka decaf,
dispensing fatherly medical
advice to avoid caffeine—
even though in real life he
suffered from depression
and alcoholism.
Folger’s Mrs. Olson, played by actress Virginia
Christine, gave motherly advice to save coffee
and marriages.
In 1977, following the
Black Frost in Brazil, coffee
prices rose quickly,
bringing consumer protests
and congressional hearings.
Ugandan coffee was indeed the country’s economic
mainstain. Unfortunately, dictator Idi Amin relied on
coffee earnings to fund his genocidal regime.
When Folgers rolled East to
challenge Maxwell House
in the 1970s, a clever
cartoonist portrayed Mrs.
Olson duking it out with
Aunt Cora, the Maxwell
House busybody.
In this Far Side cartoon, Gary Larson
lampooned health concerns over caffeine,
which peaked in the early 1980s.
Young coffee idealists like Don Schoenholt,
shown here in 1981, led the specialty
revolution. “Rise up, my fine buckos, and
assert your will,” Schoenholt advised.
Fair Trade coffee
organizations urge
consumers to buy coffee
that has been grown by
well-paid workers, often
using guilt-inducing tactics
such as this Equal
Exchange ad.
By the early 1990s, caffeine
addicts were loud and
unrepentant.
In serial episodes ranging over months and
years, Sharon flirted with her neighbor Tony
over the freeze-dried coffee in commercials
positively dripping with sexual innuendo,
sensuality, and intrigue.
In Starbucks modern incarnation, the original
mermaid logo (left) has been sanitized as a
demure New Age coffee maiden.
Not everyone loved
Starbucks. Critics accused
the chain of using
aggressive, predatory tactics
to put smaller coffeehouses
out of business, as in this
1996 cartoon.
Inspired by a trip to Italy,
Howard Schultz spread the
espresso/cappuccino/latte
gospel through the
Starbucks Experience,
taking over the company in
1987 and taking it global.
Those concerned about preserving habitat for
migratory birds can buy shade-grown coffee.
This label shows that Golden Valley Farms is
certified as ‘Bird-Friendly’ by the Smithsonian
Migratory Bird Center.
During the 1990s, environmentalists and birders created
a market for “bird-friendly coffee” grown in shaded
plantations that provide important habitat for migratory
birds and other rain forest animals.
Coffee retailer Bill Fishbein’s first visit to
poverty-stricken Guatemalan farms in 1988,
inspired him to found Coffee Kids, which
provides micro-credit loans to promote
alternative income in coffee communities.
Courtesy Coffee Kids.
This Fair Trade logo assures
consumers that the coffee
beans they pruchase were
grown by democratically
run cooperatives of small
farms that receive a decent
price for their beans. There
are also other certifications
and ways to help farmers.
Some think that coffee addiction is no joke, though “Too Much Coffee Man” cannot endure
his banal and meaningless existence without it.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Researching and writing the first edition of Uncommon Grounds took three
years, which included much travel and archival research. I should have
kept better records of the many people who helped me along the way. If
anyone feels left out, please put it down to my memory rather than my
intent.
Thanks first to my ever-patient agent Lisa Bankoff. Tim Bartlett was
the editor for the first edition at Basic, along with his assistant, Caroline
Sparrow. In addition, my freelance editor, Regina Hersey, helped me prune
over a third of the original manuscript and to shave this edition. Michael
Wilde, copyeditor, also provided constructive comments on the contents.
Tim Sullivan edited this second edition, with assistance from Adam
Kahtib.
Many other people read portions of the manuscript and made helpful
suggestions, including Betty Hannstein Adams, Rick Adams, Mané Alves,
Irene Angelico, Mike Arms, Ian Bersten, Dan Cox, Kenneth Davids,
Margaret Edwards, Max Friedman, David Galland, Roland Griffiths,
Marylen Grigas, John Hughes, Jack James, Wade Kit, Russ Kramer, Liz
Lasser, Ted Lingle, Jane McCabe, Chris and Penny Miller, Bill Mitchell,
Betty Molnar, Alfred Peet, Britt and Nan Pendergrast, John and Docie
Pendergrast, Scott Pendergrast, Marino Petracco, Joanne Ranney, Larry
Ribbecke, Donald Schoenholt, Steve Schulman, Tom Stevens, David Stoll,
Steve Streeter, Steven Topik, Blair Vickery, and K. K. Wilder. Of course, I
alone am responsible for the contents.
I must single out Betty and Rick Adams from that list. Betty appears as
a character in the book, particularly in the final chapter. She was also a
thoughtful reader of the manuscript. In this book’s Notes on Sources, Rick
appears as Richard N. Adams, the anthropologist. In Guatemala, he was
my part-time chauffeur as well as guide, and his criticism of some
oversimplifications in the original manuscript helped keep me honest.