The evolution of (campfire) coffee

"Campfire and coffee, from a tin cup in my hand,

Sure warms the fingers when it's cold."

- from the song, "God Must Be a Cowboy at Heart," by Dan Seals, © 1983

We've come a long way from the days when "cowboy" coffee was a camper's only choice. While an occasional tin cup of that strong but gritty brew is fine, today's coffee-quaffing campers have almost as many choices on the trail as do city-dwelling caffeine hounds.

Cappuccinos up!

Cowboy coffee pots

While it might be considered "retro", you can still use this old method of throwing grounds in boiling water, then drinking (and often chewing!) the results. All you need are a black enamel pot, a campfire and ground coffee

There are different schools of thought about the best way to brew campfire or cowboy coffee. Add a handful of fresh grounds to a pot of cold water and boil it; or, boil it then add the grounds (my preferred method). Some campfire chefs throw in crushed eggshells - or even a whole egg! -  to help the grounds settle, but I've never subscribed to that.

Whichever method you choose, when the grounds sink, the coffee is ready.

Coffee, percolator style

When my regular camping partner tired (very quickly!) of my cowboy coffee on our early trips together, we switched to a percolator to keep the grounds out of the water.

The coffee is a-brewin'...

I remember this as the preferred method on all our family camping trips. Of course, my dad wasn't a cowboy and the cappuccino craze hadn't hit North America, then. The first percolators were made in 1825, so it is a tried-and-true method of coffee brewing.

The method is simple: fill the basket with coffee, the pot with water, boil it then percolate it until the coffee is as strong as you like it. You'll need to experiment to determine how long to percolate it to reach the desired strength.

Campers can "espresso" themselves

These hit the market in the early 1990s.  My partner still wasn't crazy about my camp coffee, so I bought this little device for her birthday one year. (She's never complained about my coffee since - or about any birthday present, either.)

Brewing with this set-up is similar to using a percolator: fill a basket with espresso-grind, fill the pot with water, then heat it until the coffee is forced up through the upper chamber and nozzle into your waiting cups. Once the brew is out, there is still enough steam coming from the nozzle to froth milk if you want to turn your espresso into cappuccino.

Who's up for camp espresso?

 This works best over a portable stove, or a Coleman stove, than a campfire. Place a cup (metal!) on the lid to catch the coffee before it starts coming out, because when it is ready, it comes out very fast!

Press-ing on to new coffee frontiers

So-called "French presses" or plunger pots became all the rage in homes about the same time campfire cappuccinos became available. Now they are available for camping, either as plunger pots or press/cup combinations, in which the press/plunger doubles as a lid.

The method is very simple: boil water, add it to grounds in the pot/mug, steep to the desired strength, then press the plunger down. Pour it into a mug, and voila! - a strong cup of java without grounds. Aficionados claim it is closer to a "true" coffee taste, although having chewed a few chocolate-covered coffee beans in my time, I can vouch it still doesn’t compare to the taste (or kick!) of a few of those caffeine-packed goodies.

Whatever method you choose, a drop or two of Bailey's always seems to make it go down even better.

To put you in the mood, I'll leave you with this music video by Jerry Vandiver, dedicated to those of us who really appreciate their coffee in camp.


It's tough to beat the scenery and ambiance of coffee enjoyed in the outdoors.

(A slightly different version of this was originally published in Coast Magazine, July 2001, B.C. edition)

Peterborough well worth the wait

Little Lake in Peterborough's Millenium Park.

When I was a kid growing up in Newmarket, Ontario, I never spent any time in or around Peterborough. My relationship with the city consisted of turning on CHEX-TV to watch a hockey game not on the regular CBC stations or a football game that was blacked out in the immediate Toronto area.

Peterborough was always that place that I was in a hurry to get through or past or around to get to Algonquin Provincial Park and later, Outlet Beach (now Sandbanks) Provincial Park.

My dad and I almost stayed at a fishing marina outside Peterborough one summer trip, but neither of us was much of a fisherman, it wasn't really set up for camping (although there was a place to pitch a tent) so I voted to go to Algonquin instead and off we went.

Learning to carve a canoe paddle with Russ Parker.

Later on, it was that place that Roger Neilson coached (the OHL's Petes) before beginning his NHL career in Toronto with the Maple Leafs. (A street in Peterborough is named after the late icon).

Of course, all of that was before a group of far-sighted individuals established the Canadian Canoe Museum. It also pre-dated the establishment of many of the great provincial parks like Kawarthas Highlands and Petroglyphs Provicinal Parks in the area.

And it was probably before the local dining scene, craft beer industry, wide diversity of independent coffee shops and many of the other aspects of current life that made Peterborough the thriving but very liveable community it is today.

I'm now finally getting the chance to explore the area and everything it has to offer.

Brewmaster Doug Warren serves up some craft beer.

So far, I've spent two days carving a canoe paddle at the canoe museum, followed by a paddle across Little Lake (which boasts its own huge fountain in the middle of the lake). I also enjoyed several fine meals and sampled some of the craft beers mentioned above.

I expect that to continue over the next few days with another visit to the canoe museum (yeah, I'm a canoehead!) a possible river cruise along the Trent River, and more fine dining (Peterborough actually has more restaurants per capita than Toronto).

So in many ways, I'm getting the best of Peterborough, arguably a better experience than I might have had all those years ago as a youngster.

I can certainly appreciate these kinds of enjoyments better than I would have back then.

So from my perspective, I waited until just the perfect time.

Good things really do come to those who wait...

View of the river from the balcony of my hotel room at Best Western Otonabbee Inn.

Road food is one thing; but how do you eat if the "road" is a river?

Nothing beats cooking - and eating - in the outdoors.

The name of my blog pretty much gives away the fact I'm passionate about parrots and about paddling (if not, I've really goofed!).

But if not truly passionate, I'm certainly very close to being passionate about food, as well.

So...if you take a foodie who's also a canoehead, it can sometimes be a bit of a challenge to create an acceptable menu when I'm on a multi-day paddling trip.

I will say I've had some marvellous eating experiences while travelling by canoe and kayak. There've been a few disappointments, too.

While every trip has its highlights, and I've never really had a bad paddling trip, how and what you eat can often influence your impressions and memories of the trip.

Obviously, while you're on a canoe or kayak trip, you are "on the road". However, unlike driving on a highway, there's no place to pull over and order a burger and fries (although those always seem to be my first go-to meal after finishing any paddling trip.)

That means you have to plan and cook it yourself, if you're on a self-guided trip; if you're booked with an outfitter, they look after the meal planning and most of the prep for you.

I've done plenty of both; and in both instances, I've experienced the good, the bad, and the ugly (even when there's no spaghetti involved.)

I have created some incredible meals myself, as well as been a party to some bad ones (usually in the form of freeze-dried foods.)

Although it may not qualify as gourmet fare, I remember the very first dish I ate, cooked over a campfire in the outdoors.

A nice heaping plate of Richildaca Stew.

I was eight years old, and I was a camper at Richildaca Day Camp, near Kettleby, Ontario, in the rural area just west of the Newmarket-Aurora area in southern Ontario, about 40 km north of Toronto. It was "cookout day." I was excited when I saw them open the ground beef. Then I saw cans of mushroom and vegetable soup. I HATED mushrooms and anything to do with them! And I wasn't keen about veggie soup, either, back then. But, it was eat that or starve. So I ate. And I ate it. And I ate it.

Yeah, I loved it.

So much that I've always tried to feature it on all my camping menus. Of course, it has changed over the years, as I've tweaked it a bit. And it wasn't called "Richildaca Stew" back then. But it's still easy, hearty, and every bite still brings back memories.

If you want to see a real-life demonstration on how to make Richildaca Stew, you can watch the entire process on one of my YouTube videos.

Then there are the bacon and eggs and hashbrowns that always taste so good cooked outdoors over a camp stove or an open fire. They always taste better than the ones cooked at home.

Breakfast is a sizzlin'...

Of course, not all my paddling recipes turn out well. Although I once impressed a young lady with my "canned goods shiskabob" (canned potatoes and spam, cooked on a stick over a fire - another Richildaca innovation), there have been some unpleasant memories involved with camp food. The most unpleasant involved two people sleeping in a small dome tent after gorging on freeze-dried bean-tortilla dinner.

It was w-a-y worse than normal beans. Even the porcupines that hung around that campsite in numbers just up and disappeared.

Some go-to books for planning paddling meals.

Scratch that one off the list.

If you want to plan your own trips and meals, there are several good books to help you. Two of my favourites are The Wanapitei Canoe Trippers Cookbook and The Paddling Chef. 

Outfitters have prepared some amazing meals on trips over the years. My first sea kayaking excursion in Belize, our guides prepared an amazing and simple rum punch, a delicious conch stew, and wonderful fresh-caught fish. Mind you, I wasn't crazy about the vegetarian chilli and vegetarian spaghetti sauce foisted upon us later in that EcoSummer trip by an overzealous "naturist" guide. But you take the good with the bad.

The best chow I've had on a paddling trip?

Two come to mind immediately: an Adventure-Life five-day kayak trip I took in the jungles of Ecuador and some great grub enjoyed with Okefenokee Adventures on a three-day canoe trip in the Georgia swamp.

In the Amazon, we had three-course meals, with everything prepared by the guides. Each meal featured soup, salad, entree, dessert and wine. All eaten at a table, sitting on chairs underneath a forest canopy filled with parrots, toucans, and the occasional harpy eagle.

In the Okefenokee, I remember eating some incredible jambalaya and equally good spaghetti with meat sauce.

Of course, everyone who knows me, knows how I love my coffee, in or out of camp. And without a good mug of brew (or two), you really cannot start the day properly - especially on a paddling trip.

Paddler and singer-songwriter Jerry Vandiver knows this better than anyone - which is why he wrote a great song about camp coffee. I'll leave it here, with you. Maybe it'll inspire you to plan your next paddling trip - or even a trip menu. Or if nothing else, to go get another cup of coffee to sip while you enjoy it.



Want to see more of Jerry's videos? Check out his YouTube page.

Where in the world is YOUR favourite cuppa joe?

"Where is your favourite place to travel?"

Cups up! Campfire cappuccino.

As a travel writer, that's one of the questions constantly asked of me when I meet someone for the first time.

That's not what I'm writing about, though.

If you've ever wandered onto my Facebook personal page, you probably know how much I love coffee. And coffee culture. And trivia about coffee. Friends are constantly posting stuff about coffee onto my Timeline.

And, of course, people always like to know what my favourite coffee is, where is my favourite place to drink or purchase coffee, and - since I'm a travel writer - where is the best cup of coffee I've ever had.

That's easy.

The best cup of coffee I ever had was during my very first international trip (outside of Canada and the U.S.) in 1991.

Belize.

I remember it like it was yesterday.

It was our last day, we had an afternoon flight out of Belize City to LAX, then on to Vancouver.

For our last meal in the country, we decided to go for brunch at the Fort George Hotel.

From the first sip, we knew we'd stumbled on something exquisite. We were having coffee-gasms. Right there in the hotel dining room.

Several cups later, we finally came up for air, and asked our server what kind of coffee it was.

He smiled, and said, "Guatemalan chocolate coffee."

Even Nikki, our African grey parrot, loved Second Cup.
We never feed our birds caffeine, though.

Now it was not "flavoured" coffee; I'm not a fan of that type of coffee (yeah, I'm a purist). The "chocolate" was simply what it was called. It was rich, sweet, fragrant, smooth - and that was just the aroma. It almost didn't need cream or sugar.


After I returned home, I was on a mission to find a coffee as close to that coffee as I could. None of the Guatemalan coffees I tried came close, though. Then, eight months later, at a mall in Edmonton, I decided to grab a coffee at a Second Cup.

Now I'd never tried their coffees, since, at the time, I lived in Fort St. John, B.C. and there were no Second Cups, not even a Tim Horton's there, at the time. I looked at the menu, saw "Guatemalan" beside something called "Huehuetenango." So, I tried it.

Bingo!

While it wasn't exactly what I'd had in Belize, it was the closest I'd ever come. Or ever would come: Sweet, rich, mellow, just about perfect. I liked it so much, I gave them my address and credit card info, and set up monthly shipments of a few pounds to Fort St. John so I could enjoy it all the time.

Slurping coffee aboard a Chilean ship docked in North Van.

Sadly, Second Cup - the only company licensed to sell it in Canada, then - stopped carrying the brand in 2008. I found a place in Ontario that now sells it, and will ship it, but it didn't taste as good as it had in the past, so I've resigned myself to life at Tim's. Cheaper, less hassle, but not as good.

Since that trip to Belize, I've sampled coffee all over the world. Ironically, because we import coffee from places like African and South America for consumption in North America, that often leaves lesser-quality coffee in those countries.

Travelling around Africa for six weeks, I gave up trying to enjoy a good cup of coffee, and opted for tea instead.

Ditto, in Ecuador. Although I didn't give up coffee for tea, it was not as good as the coffee I drank at home.

When I returned to South America six years later, Starbucks had infiltrated the consumer coffee market, so forget about enjoying an authentic native coffee.

Starbucks in Lima tastes the same as Starbucks in Taipei, which tastes the same as Starbucks in Vancouver, which tastes the same... you get the picture. And yeah, I'm not a Starbucks fan. If I want burnt coffee, I'll take a cup of Tim's and re-heat it in the microwave.

I have enjoyed good cups of coffee elsewhere.

The best iced cappuccino I've enjoyed was a Terri's Cappuccino Bar in Fort St. John. It was a regular daily indulgence there, winter and summer, for two years.

Don't forget to add the Bailey's!

And nothing beats a cup of "campfire cappuccino, brewed on a camp stove, served up with a healthy portion of Bailey's, during a camping or paddling trip.

I tried to obtain some samples of Kopi Luwak during a trip to Malaysian Borneo, as that renowned "civet-poop coffee" is produced in Indonesia. No luck, though - although I did enjoy some wonderful "pulled tea." (As it turns out, the way this coffee is harvested may not be in keeping with good practices with respect to treatment of wildlife, so I may postpone the hunt indefinitely.)

Enjoying a coffee on the road in Haida Gwaii.

As for other coffees...

Kona coffee from Hawaii is VASTLY overrated, in my opinion. I've sampled several cups on both Maui and the Big Island, including some at a coffee plantation.

Quite frankly, I couldn't figure out what the fuss was all about.

And while I've never sampled Jamaican Blue, I suspect my reaction would be much the same as it was to Kona.


That's not to say I'll never enjoy a cup of coffee on the road. But I feel like I've already found the Holy Grail of Coffee, so I'm resigned to the fact that even if I'm at Avalon, the coffee they serve there probably will not match the cup I enjoyed back on that April morning in Central America.