Part 10 (1/2)

PART THREE.

BITTER BREWS.

In this postwar diner, waitresses served up bottomless cups of weak coffee.

13.

Coffee Witch Hunts and Instant Nongratification Over second and third cups flow matters of high finance, high state, common gossip and low comedy. [Coffee] is a social binder, a warmer of tongues, a soberer of minds, a stimulant of wit, a foiler of sleep if you want it so. From roadside mugs to the cla.s.sic demi-ta.s.se, it is the perfect democrat.

-New York Times, November 14, 1949

There's every sign that coffee will remain the country's leading beverage forever.

-1952 Coffee Annual Coffee Annual

By the end of World War II, American coffee had become a standardized product, a roasted ground blend, based largely on average Brazilian beans. All coffee tasted pretty much the same. Despite the much-touted virtues of vacuum cans, the preground coffee gradually staled while sitting on the shelf. As the food writer M. F. K. Fisher wrote in 1945, ”It comes in uniform jars, which we buy loyally according to which radio program hires the best writers, so that whether the label is green or scarlet the contents are safely alike, safely middling.” And though the drip method was gaining in popularity, Americans came out of the war drinking weak, overextracted percolator coffee. ”Our national taste,” wrote one coffee lover, ”is still for pallid, grounds-specked, boiled slops.”

From this state of mediocrity coffee went from ”safely middling” to awful within the next two decades. What happened? A confluence of economic, political, and technological factors joined to produce the bitter cup.

Guy Gillette's Coffee Witch Hunt Coffee prices climbed slowly but steadily after they were finally freed from price controls in 1946. By 1947 roasted coffee retailed for more than 50 cents a pound. The next year, when many restaurants began charging 7 cents a cup instead of a nickel, angry patrons broke mugs, stole silverware, and dumped cream and sugar on countertops in protest. Some coffee firms began to advertise that their their brand required less grounds to brew a strong cup. One coffee man concluded facetiously that if prices continued to rise, ”we may yet see coffee so strong you won't have to use any at all to get a delicious aromatic, flavorsome cup.” brand required less grounds to brew a strong cup. One coffee man concluded facetiously that if prices continued to rise, ”we may yet see coffee so strong you won't have to use any at all to get a delicious aromatic, flavorsome cup.”

The price rise stemmed primarily from legitimate free-market forces of supply and demand. Brazil found itself without enough beans. The once-fertile So Paulo soil had lost its nutrients to coffee production, and the weakened trees were suffering from a broca broca (coffee bug) infestation. From its all-time high of 19.8 pounds just after the war, U.S. per-capita consumption fell slightly to 18.2 pounds in 1948, while European imports topped 7 million bags, aided by the Marshall Plan-still below the prewar 12 million-bag level, but significant and growing. To keep consumption up, the coffee growers boosted their self-imposed advertising tax from 2 cents to 10 cents to support the Pan American Coffee Bureau. Adventurous homesteaders, eager to capitalize on the pending coffee shortage, began to carve new (coffee bug) infestation. From its all-time high of 19.8 pounds just after the war, U.S. per-capita consumption fell slightly to 18.2 pounds in 1948, while European imports topped 7 million bags, aided by the Marshall Plan-still below the prewar 12 million-bag level, but significant and growing. To keep consumption up, the coffee growers boosted their self-imposed advertising tax from 2 cents to 10 cents to support the Pan American Coffee Bureau. Adventurous homesteaders, eager to capitalize on the pending coffee shortage, began to carve new fazendas fazendas out of the forest farther south in the Brazilian state of Parana, but those new trees would take five years to begin producing. out of the forest farther south in the Brazilian state of Parana, but those new trees would take five years to begin producing.

In 1944 the Brazilians with great fanfare had donated 400,000 bags of green Santos beans to the U.S. military. Two years later the U.S. Army turned over 500,000 bags of ”surplus” Brazilian coffee, along with 200,000 bags of Colombian beans, to the U.S. Department of Agriculture, which in turn sold them for an estimated $6 million profit. The Brazilian growers were infuriated. In 1948 the United States allowed the Inter-American Coffee Agreement to expire, and the group's advisory capacity was transferred to a toothless Special Commission on Coffee under the auspices of the Organization of American States.

By fall 1949 Brazil's surplus ran out just as a prolonged drought damaged the year's flowering in August and September. By October 19 green bean prices had crept up to 34 cents. Then prices rocketed to 51 cents a pound by mid-November. Roasters boosted prices to around 80 cents a pound. At restaurants the nickel cup of coffee yielded to the dime. For the first time in history, world coffee imports cost over $1 billion.

Senator Guy Gillette, an Iowa Democrat and dairy farmer, directed his agricultural subcommittee to investigate coffee prices. Gillette stormed against the ”manipulators” and ”speculators” he held responsible for raising the price of coffee. His counsel, Paul Hadlick, interrogated witnesses with all the hostility of a murder prosecutor. Why had the price of coffee jumped so enormously in so short a time? ”Could you explain,” Hadlick asked a General Foods representative, ”why large Brazilian interests were buying coffee in New York?”

Speculative interests had had helped to drive up the price, but a shortage of coffee was the fundamental reason for the price increase. Congressional witness Andres Uribe, the New York representative of Colombia's National Federation of Coffee Growers and chairman of the Pan American Coffee Bureau, explained the sudden price rise as a result of the ”complacency” of the American trade, which never believed that the Brazilian stocks would run out. When they suddenly realized that the 1949 drought was real and that there were no surplus stocks, they panicked and began to buy. This resulted in a cla.s.sic bull-market run for coffee, and as prices shot up, housewives began h.o.a.rding, creating an artificial scarcity. helped to drive up the price, but a shortage of coffee was the fundamental reason for the price increase. Congressional witness Andres Uribe, the New York representative of Colombia's National Federation of Coffee Growers and chairman of the Pan American Coffee Bureau, explained the sudden price rise as a result of the ”complacency” of the American trade, which never believed that the Brazilian stocks would run out. When they suddenly realized that the 1949 drought was real and that there were no surplus stocks, they panicked and began to buy. This resulted in a cla.s.sic bull-market run for coffee, and as prices shot up, housewives began h.o.a.rding, creating an artificial scarcity.

”Latin Americans generally have been profoundly disturbed-even shocked,” Uribe told the committee, ”that the national integrity of their countries has been impugned; that they have been accused of gouging; of defrauding the American consumer; of engaging in plots and cabals.” He pointed out that while U.S. consumers had paid over $2 billion for roasted or brewed coffee in 1949, only 38 percent of that money had gone to the Latin American producing countries. The majority of the profits had been taken by U.S. roasters, retailers, and restaurants.

”Gentlemen,” Uribe said, ”when you are dealing with coffee, you are not dealing only with a commodity, a convenience. You are dealing with the lives of millions of people.” He paused for emphasis. ”We in Latin America have a task before us which is staggering to the imagination-illiteracy to be eliminated, disease to be wiped out, good health to be restored, a sound program of nutrition to be worked out for millions of people. The key to all of this . . . is an equitable price for coffee.” Otherwise, he warned, ”you cast these millions of persons loose to drift in a perilous sea of poverty and privation, subject to every chilling wind, every subversive blast.”79 His plea fell on deaf ears. On June 9, 1950, the Gillette Committee issued its official report, a scathing doc.u.ment so offensive that fourteen Latin American countries lodged an official protest. The American politicians blamed the shortage on Brazilian growers, whom they accused of withholding huge stocks. Gillette suggested that the U.S. government ”scrutinize most carefully” any loans to coffee countries, while encouraging coffee growth outside Latin America. The report not only recommended sweeping alterations in established methods of the U.S. coffee trade, but also told Brazil and Colombia that they should change their monetary exchange rates. No further coffee should be purchased through the Marshall Plan, and furthermore, a U.S. Justice Department representative should attend future meetings of the Special Commission on Coffee-as if it needed legal watchd.o.g.g.i.ng.

If the report's recommendations were implemented, it would be ”tantamount to the bankruptcy of the coffee producing industry,” said the Brazilian delegate to the Special Commission. A Rio newspaper called the report ”a model of indelicacy, intimidation and revolting brutality.” Colombia's foreign minister denounced the report as ”an unwarranted act of interference” and ”a tremendous blow to the Good Neighbor policy.” In the midst of this outrage, former dictator Getulio Vargas made a stunning populist comeback and was elected Brazil's president later in the year, with a pledge to guarantee a minimum price to coffee growers and to strengthen rather than devalue the Brazilian cruzeiro cruzeiro.80 Trying to make amends, a.s.sistant Secretary of State Edward G. Miller Jr. scolded the full Agriculture Committee for not pa.s.sing the report by the State Department before publication. He said that ”no accusations of manipulation of markets, or collusion between producing interests, should be made unless and until there is clear evidence to substantiate such charges.” Indeed there was no such evidence. He criticized the report's recommendations, noting that ”little or no [background] information” supported them. Reluctantly, Gillette's committee revised the report, softening the tone and moderating its harsh recommendations. International feelings were temporarily soothed, just as the conflict in Korea intensified the new cold war mentality and boosted the price of coffee once again to around 85 cents per pound retail.

Instant, Quick, Efficient, Modern-and Awful The instant-coffee industry grew tremendously in the postwar period. At first Nescafe dominated sales in the United States through extensive advertising. The internationally powerful Swiss company also introduced its instant brand around the world in Europe, Latin America, Asia, Oceania, and South Africa.

The United States, however, provided the largest potential market. The modern consumer willingly sacrificed quality for convenience, as new instant brands proliferated. When regular roasted coffee b.u.mped up to 80 cents a pound in 1950, the real rush toward instant was on. Although soluble coffee required a gigantic capital outlay for the tall spraying towers and additional treatment processes, it cost 1.25 cents per cup, 1 cent less less than regular. than regular.

The taste of instant coffee was so poor that it didn't much matter what kind of beans were used-including cheap robusta beans from African colonies eager for dollar infusions to their war-devastated economies. In addition, the manufacturers could squeeze more solids out of each bean by overextracting the grounds-a process that produced a bitter regular brew.

By the end of 1952, instant coffee accounted for 17 percent of all U.S. coffee consumption. Instant Maxwell House and Nescafe each were spending over $1 million a year on advertising. ”AMAZING COFFEE DISCOVERY!” proclaimed Instant Maxwell House ads. ”Not a powder! Not a grind! But millions of tiny 'FLAVOR BUDS' of real real coffee, ready to burst instantly into that famous coffee, ready to burst instantly into that famous GOOD-TO-THE-LAST-DROP GOOD-TO-THE-LAST-DROP flavor!” ”Easy to Vary the Strength to Suit Everyone in the Family,” Nescafe ads explained. ”No Fussing with Pot or Percolator. No Tricky Parts to Clean. No Coffee Grounds.” The pedestrian ads of the Swiss company failed to capture the imagination of the consumer, and in 1953 Instant Maxwell House jumped past Nescafe to become the undisputed leader in U.S. instant coffee sales. It held that position tenuously, however, through low prices and extensive advertising. Consumer surveys showed little brand loyalty for instant coffees. flavor!” ”Easy to Vary the Strength to Suit Everyone in the Family,” Nescafe ads explained. ”No Fussing with Pot or Percolator. No Tricky Parts to Clean. No Coffee Grounds.” The pedestrian ads of the Swiss company failed to capture the imagination of the consumer, and in 1953 Instant Maxwell House jumped past Nescafe to become the undisputed leader in U.S. instant coffee sales. It held that position tenuously, however, through low prices and extensive advertising. Consumer surveys showed little brand loyalty for instant coffees.

To raise the enormous capital needed to produce instant coffee ($1 million per plant), ten smaller roasters led by Joseph Martinson & Company (formerly noted for its high-quality coffee) banded together to form Tenco, a New Jersey cooperative that ran twenty-four hours a day to produce soluble coffee. Ed Aborn Jr., who like his father before him had championed proper brewing methods, shocked members of the trade by selling the venerable family firm and joining Tenco. Berent Friele, who had dominated the coffee trade as head of A & P's American Coffee Corporation, convinced Nelson Rockefeller to invest in Tenco.

The popularity of instant coffee accompanied and complemented the rise of the vending machine. In 1947 Lloyd Rudd and K. C. Melikian, two army mechanical engineers, introduced the Kwik Kafe vending machine that dispensed hot instant coffee into a paper cup in five seconds. Rudd Melikian Inc. sold three hundred machines the first year. Other companies soon went into compet.i.tion with them. By the end of 1951 there were over 9,000 coffee vending machines in the United States, and by the middle of the decade over 60,000.

Invention of the Coffee Break The vending machine helped inst.i.tutionalize that most venerated American tradition, the coffee break. The phrase was the 1952 invention of the Pan American Coffee Bureau. Supported by its $2 million a year budget, the bureau launched a radio, newspaper, and magazine campaign with the theme ”Give Yourself a Coffee-Break-And Get What Coffee Gives to You.” The practice had begun during the war in defense plants, when time off for coffee gave workers a moment of relaxation along with a caffeine jolt.

While work time off for coffee had been virtually unknown before the war, 80 percent of the firms polled in 1952 had introduced a coffee break. Hospitals inst.i.tuted them. After Sunday wors.h.i.+p services, congregations met for a coffee break with their pastors. The coffee bureau launched a ”Coffee Stop” campaign on the nation's roads to encourage motorists to pull over every two hours for coffee as a safety measure.

Even General Dwight Eisenhower's presidential campaign got into the act, using the coffee break idea for its Operation Coffee Cup, in which a ”coffee party” introduced Ike to voters ”on a cheerful, intimate basis.” As Look Look magazine noted, the coffee social trend was spreading. ”Coffee and dessert boost attendance at town meetings; coffee parties raise funds for a symphony orchestra; coffees join teas as vehicles for parent-teacher conferences, spurred by the ease of serving instant coffee to large groups.” Now they didn't have to bother with messy cream or milk. Instant Pream, a powdered milk product, provided the perfect tasteless mate to instant coffee. ”No Waste, No Fuss,” its ads proclaimed. magazine noted, the coffee social trend was spreading. ”Coffee and dessert boost attendance at town meetings; coffee parties raise funds for a symphony orchestra; coffees join teas as vehicles for parent-teacher conferences, spurred by the ease of serving instant coffee to large groups.” Now they didn't have to bother with messy cream or milk. Instant Pream, a powdered milk product, provided the perfect tasteless mate to instant coffee. ”No Waste, No Fuss,” its ads proclaimed.

The b.o.o.b Tube Along with instant coffee and cream came instant entertainment. Though television had made its shaky debut just before the Depression, the new medium didn't become commercially viable until after World War II. By 1952 TV reached 37 percent of the country's living rooms. By the end of the decade virtually everyone in America watched television an average of six hours a day.

General Foods, which employed over 15,000 people and garnered over $500 million in gross annual sales by the late forties, was one of the earliest television advertisers, pushed by Atherton ”Hobe” Hobler, still in charge at Benton & Bowles. Hobler, who had seen what radio did for Maxwell House, was sure television, with sound and and sight, would have an even greater impact. He convinced General Foods advertising manager Charles Mortimer, who was soon to a.s.sume the presidency of the food conglomerate. sight, would have an even greater impact. He convinced General Foods advertising manager Charles Mortimer, who was soon to a.s.sume the presidency of the food conglomerate.

In 1947 Maxwell House Coffee sponsored Meet the Press Meet the Press in a changeover from radio to television. To advertise Sanka decaffeinated coffee, General Foods sponsored a radio and TV version of in a changeover from radio to television. To advertise Sanka decaffeinated coffee, General Foods sponsored a radio and TV version of The Goldbergs The Goldbergs, starring Gertrude Berg. Mrs. Goldberg and her clan provided an affectionate look at New York Jewish immigrant life in one of the first popular situation comedies. Looking out the window, Berg explained to the television audience that they could drink as much Sanka as they liked ”because the sleep is left in.”

A 1950 survey of 4,300 television owners showed that TV had a ”far stronger effect on food sales than any other commodity.” That same year Coca-Cola paid for a special with Edgar Bergen and Charlie McCarthy, who had defected from Chase & Sanborn to the soft drink. c.o.ke also sponsored a Walt Disney program, and in 1951, The Adventures of Kit Carson The Adventures of Kit Carson.

General Foods responded with Mama Mama, starring Peggy Wood, based on the popular Broadway play I Remember Mama I Remember Mama. At the end of each weekly show, the cast gathered in Mama's kitchen for a cup of Maxwell House Coffee. That const.i.tuted the show's only commercial, which became an integral part of the program. Mama Mama ran for eight years, until videotape brought an end to live television drama. ran for eight years, until videotape brought an end to live television drama.

In 1953 General Foods added December Bride December Bride, starring Spring Byington, to its lineup of Maxwell House-sponsored shows. When Nestle ran TV spots offering free samples of Nescafe, more than 2 million consumers responded over an eighteen-month period.

The ailing Standard Brands couldn't afford extravagant television advertising, dooming it to a small market share. In comparison to General Foods' $27 million net profit in 1949, Standard Brands earned only $8 million. Maxwell House poured $2.5 million a year into advertising, while Chase & Sanborn spent just over $1 million.

The J. Walter Thompson admen were hamstrung not only by an inadequate budget but by Don Stetler, the shortsighted Standard Brands ad manager, who believed that coffee was strictly a local business. He canceled the Charlie McCarthy radio show and refused to run color ads in national magazines. In 1949 new president Joel S. Mitch.e.l.l, a former Kellogg's executive, took over and promptly fired the J. Walter Thompson agency, but a new ad agency didn't help.

Hills Brothers also tried television in the early 1950s, with a blond woman in an evening dress preparing coffee for guests in her kitchen. To schmaltzy music a female voice sang about Hills Brothers, ”the friendliest of blends.” Another commercial showed a stiff teenage couple. The boy, sporting a bow tie, opens a can of Hills Brothers and the girl smells it while the announcer intones: ”Boy meets girl, girl makes coffee. Hills Brothers Coffee, of course.” The boy picks up a tray and offers it to others sitting in the living room. ”Hills Brothers Coffee, the life of the party.” Even in 1951 such ads must have been perceived as fake and forced.

The Hills Brothers TV spots only ran in local markets. So far General Foods was the only coffee roaster with the funds and foresight to produce national television commercials. In addition to Mama Mama and and The Goldbergs The Goldbergs, General Foods sponsored Captain Video and His Video Rangers Captain Video and His Video Rangers, starring Al Hodge, who had been the superhero Green Hornet on radio. Atherton Hobler eventually convinced General Foods to devote 80 percent of its advertising budget to television.

Price Wars, Coupons, and Fourteen-Ounce Pounds Due to high prices and the increasing popularity of instant coffee, roasters felt compelled to cheapen their brands, use price promotions, premiums, and money-back coupons, and cut quant.i.ty. Some regional roasters who supplied the restaurants and inst.i.tutions began to sell coffee in fourteen-ounce packages, claiming that their coffee produced the same results as a full pound. On its hundredth anniversary, Folger's advertised that consumers could use ”one quarter less” of its blend because it was in some way richer. While one roaster denounced this trend as ”disastrous,” he admitted that he too had succ.u.mbed. The result? They were all selling less coffee, and the consuming public was getting a diluted cup.

In Europe economizing on coffee wasn't so much a matter of choice as necessity. By 1952 the French were importing 2.6 million bags of coffee, but over half were low-quality robusta beans from French colonies in Africa. As a result, France's coffee, never known for its high quality, got worse. European home roasting declined as industrial roasters dominated the market. Still, most Italians bought whole-bean roasted coffee and ground it at home. Italian advertising promised ”Paradise . . . in the cup,” but the blend consisted primarily of cheap Brazils and African robustas.

Neglecting a Generation Even in dest.i.tute postwar Europe, a different American beverage was gaining popularity and stealing market share from coffee. On May 15, 1950, Time Time magazine's cover featured a painting in which a smiling red Coca-Cola disk with a skinny arm held a c.o.ke bottle to the mouth of a thirsty globe. The legend beneath read ”WORLD & FRIEND-Love that piaster, that lira, that tickey, and that American way of life.” The editor of the National Coffee a.s.sociation newsletter advised that the magazine's cover featured a painting in which a smiling red Coca-Cola disk with a skinny arm held a c.o.ke bottle to the mouth of a thirsty globe. The legend beneath read ”WORLD & FRIEND-Love that piaster, that lira, that tickey, and that American way of life.” The editor of the National Coffee a.s.sociation newsletter advised that the Time Time c.o.ke article should be ”required reading” for coffee men. He pointed out that a bottle of Coca-Cola cost over twice as much as a home-brewed cup of coffee. Yet soft drink sales were booming. Could coffee take a lesson from this carbonated caffeine delivery system? c.o.ke article should be ”required reading” for coffee men. He pointed out that a bottle of Coca-Cola cost over twice as much as a home-brewed cup of coffee. Yet soft drink sales were booming. Could coffee take a lesson from this carbonated caffeine delivery system?

A few months later, however, the same editor wrote: ”The coffee trade of the United States has never been interested in this group [under 15] as a market . . . because too many parents would prefer their children's beverage consumption to supplement their diet.” While coffee men were busy cutting prices and one another's throats, diluting their beverage, and advertising coffee as a commodity, c.o.ke and Pepsi were successfully promoting an image of youth, vitality, and as Time Time noted, the ”American way of life.” noted, the ”American way of life.”

In 1950 U.S. coffee per-capita consumption began to fall, as soft drink popularity rose.81 That year the soft drink firms first reached parity with coffee in their advertising budgets: both beverages spent just over $7 million a year. But only two firms, c.o.ke and Pepsi, dominated the fizzy drink industry, while coffee firms battled one another for their slowly dwindling share of the market. In 1953 tousle-haired, twenty-four-year-old crooner Eddie Fisher appeared in That year the soft drink firms first reached parity with coffee in their advertising budgets: both beverages spent just over $7 million a year. But only two firms, c.o.ke and Pepsi, dominated the fizzy drink industry, while coffee firms battled one another for their slowly dwindling share of the market. In 1953 tousle-haired, twenty-four-year-old crooner Eddie Fisher appeared in c.o.ke Time c.o.ke Time on TV and radio. Meanwhile, most coffee ads featured harried housewives or hurried businessmen. on TV and radio. Meanwhile, most coffee ads featured harried housewives or hurried businessmen.

The Land That Smelled Like Money High coffee prices had sp.a.w.ned a worldwide resurgence of coffee growing. ”New coffee trees are being planted in almost every producing country in the world,” observed George Gordon Paton, the editor of Coffee Annual Coffee Annual, at the end of 1950. ”Will the world be ready to take this additional production?”