Reykjavík Grapevine - 09.05.2014, Qupperneq 6

6The Reykjavík Grapevine Issue 5 — 2014
Culture | DIY
In a city brim-full with cafés and coffee shops, one local man—psychology student and long-distance
cycling enthusiast Sverrir Rolf Sander—has, in less than two weeks, carved out a place for himself
alongside Reykjavík’s more established barista talent. In late April, under the name Puffin Coffee, Sver-
rir opened the kitchen window of his apartment in downtown Reykjavík and started serving espresso
drinks, aeropress coffee and his favourite, the ‘Kalita Wave.’
While the coffee (and window-side con-
versation) is great, what makes Sverrir’s
concept so special is that he’s doing this
not to make a little extra cash, but instead
to raise money for charity, specifically
the UK-based organisation Ambitious
About Autism. In September, Sverrir will
take part in the cycling company Rapha’s
ultramarathon fundraiser: a 220-mile
single-day ride from Manchester to Lon-
don, England. In order to take part in the
event, each of the 300 participants must
raise £750 for the charity. But rather than
sit on his sofa and ask people to just trans-
fer money to him, Sverrir decided to take
a more unique and personal approach to
his fundraising.
Love In Every Cup
“I guess the natural thing to do would be
to offer you a cup of coffee,” Sverrir said
as he let me into his sunny, ground-floor
apartment. “Have you heard of Kalita
Wave?” I had to admit that I had absolutely
no idea what such a thing was, so he be-
gan to explain the mechanics of a Japa-
nese hand-drip pourover device similar
to a Chemex coffeemaker (a sort of glass
hourglass-shaped device which, happily, I
was familiar with). It’s like that, he said,
but better, with a smoother finish.
While the coffee-making set-up in his
kitchen—a small, single-boiler espresso
machine, aeropress brewer, and the afore-
mentioned Kalita Dripper—might be con-
sidered spare for your average coffee shop,
they immediately reveal Sverrir to be a
true aficionado. Perhaps this is only natu-
ral given that he “has a history in coffee.”
When Sverrir was growing up, his family
owned Café Milano, a coffee shop at which
his mother was the head barista and man-
ager, his grandfather the bookkeeper and
his grandmother the baker.
All the same, it wasn’t until he was liv-
ing in Berlin a few years ago that he decid-
ed to take a more refined approach to his
home brewing. “It’s not a luxury anymore,
it’s a necessity. I start my day with coffee,
so I better do it well,” he said, as he ground
the beans for my cup. “I don’t want to just
press a button on a machine and just do it
for the fix. I want the flavour as well.”
He set a green ceramic cup in front
of me, as well as the clear glass drip-
per, which he filled with the fresh coffee
grounds. “I would rather do it once and do
it properly then do it three or four times
and not be satisfied or fulfilled,” he said.
I asked if perhaps he had gained his
coffee-making expertise by working as a
summer barista in his family’s business,
but he shook his head. A number of his
friends, particularly a barista named Torfi
who is a co-owner at Reykjavík Roasters
(from where Puffin Coffee gets all its
beans), have taught him the ins and outs
of coffee making. “The small things mat-
ter,” he said, admitting some of the limita-
tions of his personal coffee set-up. “But I’m
getting better every day. Of course, it’s not
perfect, but I try to put love in every cup.”
The Coffee Window
It was out of this love for home brewing
that the idea behind Puffin Coffee was
actually born. After he moved back to Ice-
land, he decided to buy a specialty coffee
maker which was more suited to making
coffee for multiple people. His brewing
talents were obviously appreciated, as he
recalled: “Quite often, I would be here, in
my underwear, making myself breakfast,
and friends who lived close by and were
walking to work would just knock on the
window and be like, ‘hey, can I get a cup
of coffee to take to work?’ Sometimes, they
would just stand outside the window and
try to drink it really fast before leaving,”
he laughed. “Well, most of the time, I’d let
them in.”
He paused in his story to offer me a
thick oatmeal and chocolate chip cookie
that his cousin baked. “Around that time, I
signed up for the [Manchester to London]
bike ride. I had an Icelandic friend who
had lived with me in Berlin—he’s in Van-
couver now—and he had this espresso ma-
chine. So I sent him a message and asked
if I could rent his machine. He said, no just
take it—it’s just sitting in my basement do-
ing nothing. So I went to his house and got
it and walked like 20 minutes back here…”
Sverrir’s narrative was interrupted
by the arrival of the day’s first visitor. He
popped over to the window and gave a
friendly hello before offering the man cof-
fee.
“What kind of coffee can I offer you?”
“Um, what is this Kalita Drip?”
“Listen—that’s my favourite coffee. Let
me show you.” Here he proceeded to dem-
onstrate the brewing method in animated
detail. “Have I sold you on the concept?”
As the coffee dripped, Sverrir offered
his guest a cookie and showed him the
various drawings that adorned each to-go
cup. The decorations on these cups were
done by a young artist named Sunna
Ben, who volunteered her skills when
she first learned of Sverrir’s project. One
afternoon, she actually took illustration
requests from people via the Puffin Cof-
fee Facebook page. Among the various
requests: a line of ants, a bear wearing a
t-shirt that reads “METAL,” the Predator,
and H.P. Lovecraft’s Cthulhu.
Another man approached the window
while Sverrir and the man were chatting.
“Are you selling coffee?” came the ques-
tion.
“No, no.” Sverrir replied, “I’m giving it
away.”
Some people, inspired by the cause,
have given as much as 5,000 ISK for a
single cup of coffee, Sverrir said, although
most people give more like 600 ISK.
“That’s what’s cool,” he says. “I’m putting
my trust in the good will of people. And I
trust their judgment.”
Puffin Fans, Near And Far
Having added his newest donations to the
large salad bowl where he keeps all of his
funds, Sverrir returned to the kitchen. “At
one point, a few days ago, there were six
people waiting in a queue. It was crazy. Of
course, if people come and ask for three
lattes, it takes awhile. But it’s okay—people
understand that this is not a business.”
Another woman walked up to the
window and thanked him for the coffee
she had the day before. Sverrir asked if
she’d like another cup, but she said no, she
didn’t have any money. “Well, do you want
a cookie?” he asked. “My cousin baked
them—they’re really good.” She left with
the cookie, agreeing to come back soon.
“The reception has been much more
than I anticipated,” Sverrir said coming
back to the table. “But it’s been fun. For
instance, yesterday I was open for three
hours and there were maybe 12 or 15
people here. That was quite nice because
I would read for 30 minutes and then I’d
have a five minute break to have a conver-
sation and clear my mind.”
He stood and rinsed the Kalita Wave.
“I’ll tell you a funny story. After I opened,
there was this guy who started writing a
lot of messages and then he added me per-
sonally on Facebook. All right, I thought,
he is obviously a fan of Iceland and Puf-
fin Coffee, so why not? But he kept ask-
ing about the exact address and sending
me pictures from Google Maps. ‘Is this
the house?’ He was quite persistent and
I was a bit afraid at first—is this guy go-
ing to come in the middle of the night and
demand coffee or something? But then, I
found out he’s from Hawaii, and they have
quite a famous coffee there called Kona. So
he’s sending me two huge bags of coffee
beans! Soon it will be on offer here.”
On another occasion, Sverrir was
awakened early in the morning by a “ruck-
us” outside. Rushing out of his room and
half expecting to find someone breaking
into the flat, he found instead a tourist
standing outside his kitchen window. “He
was like, ‘I heard there was a guy serving
coffee here.’ And I said, ‘Um, yeah. It’s
kind of closed right now. You just woke me
up, but it’s cool, I’ll see you a little later.’”
Right as Sverrir finished his story, two
cops, on bikes, cycled up to the window.
He laughed, “Well, the police are here,”
and then, over at the window, “Hello,
guys—can I offer you some coffee?”
The officers opted for the favoured Ka-
lita. “I thought you were here to arrest me,”
Sverrir joked, while selecting two cups for
the officers—a seal and an elephant. They
complimented the coffee before posing for
a picture and returning to their rounds.
Riding the (Kalita) Wave
So, I asked, why has he decided to dedicate
his time and effort to raising money for au-
tism research? As with the idea for Puffin
Coffee, the fundraiser idea came together
rather organically. “Last year, I rode on my
bike from Berlin to Paris in nine days,” he
explained. “That was the beginning of my
‘real’ bike career. It made me mature in
ways I couldn’t have imagined and it was
really good for me mentally and physically
to just focus on one big thing and try to
challenge myself.”
It also happens that autism is a cause
that is close to Sverrir’s heart. “My best
friend’s son was diagnosed with autism.
And as a psychology student, I can see
that the causes of this development disor-
der have not been researched thoroughly
enough. So I saw this as an opportunity to
do something good. Bike my ass off and
raise money for autism research.”
As of this writing, Sverrir has man-
aged to raise nearly £500, and he still has
four months to raise the remaining £250.
In the very likely event that he meets his
fundraising minimum, however, he be-
lieves that he will continue with his efforts,
possibly even after the Rapha ride is over.
“I can’t say for sure—right now I’m just
trying to ride the wave.”
Puffin Coffee is located at Baldursgata 26.
Its hours vary considerably from day to
day, but are posted on the Puffin Coffee
Facebook page (facebook.com/puffincof-
feeiceland) and Twitter feed (twitter.com/
puffincoffee).
Good Coffee,
Good Conversation,
And A Good Cause
Sverrir Rolf raises money for autism
research from his kitchen window
— By Larissa Kyzer
Continues over
We’re #1! We’re #1! At what, you
ask? Did Iceland finally win Eurovi-
sion? No—that hasn’t happened
yet (and honestly, our chances
aren’t so good). At the Crossfit
Games? No, that hasn’t happened
yet (although Icelandic contenders,
including two-time winner Anníe
Mist, represent 16% of the competi-
tors in the European Regionals).
Okay, okay, we’ll just tell you:
Iceland is #1 at…(drumroll)…Chla-
mydia! For the 10th year running!
Yes, that’s right: with 2,179 reported
cases of Chlamydia last year—a 14%
increase from 2012—Iceland leads
all European nations with cases
of this STD. (Wrap it up, people.
Please.)
In other fascinating titbits in sexual
health, it also seems that Kamagra,
an erectile dysfunction drug much
like Viagra, has become Icelandic
high school students’ preferred
high. Sales of the drug have
increased 120% in the last four
years—180,000 doses in total. “Ask
any high school student…If they
haven’t tried it, they know someone
who is using it or selling it,” said
sexologist Sigga Dögg Arnardóttir.
Use is not restricted to male stu-
dents either, Sigga said, with many
young women stating that the drug
“makes them more sensitive and
increases their satisfaction.”

The Youngs aren’t the only ones
who’ve been getting busy in
Iceland, of course, as April contin-
ued to be a big month for labour
unions. Secondary school teachers
returned from a three-week strike
at the start of the month, right as
university teachers voted to stage
their own strike, which coinciden-
tally would have started during
final exams. Luckily for everyone,
an agreement was reached before
the start of the strike and university
exams proceeded as scheduled.
The bargaining process did not
go so smoothly for roughly 400
employees of ISAVIA, the company
that owns and manages Iceland’s
airports. At the start of April, these
workers announced a series of half-
day strikes on four non-consecutive
days. The first two strikes forced
Icelandair to reschedule incoming
flights from North America and en-
NEWS IN BRIEF
APRIL
by Larissa Kyzer
Nanna Dís