#GuardianCoffee

Last week saw the establishment of Guardian Coffee, a coffee shop incarnation of the liberal newspaper. Surprisingly for an enterprise associated with a national news publication, the launch was handled with a very softly, softly approach, building gradual momentum on twitter rather than announcement with trumpets and fanfare.

But was this such a bad thing?

The launch strategy actually demonstrated The Guardian’s report with its readership and an awareness of the way news is being both gathered and consumed. News is no longer a one-way service, more a starting point for debate. This theme continues in the coffee shop itself, which projects select (and yes I do mean selected), posts from The Guardian’s twitter feed on its walls.

As could be suspected, the enterprise was met with mixed reviews and a fair few snide remarks. Some wondered whether it represented a much-needed revenue stream in the face of slumping print sales, whilst others pondered how The Guardian’s left-leaning ethos might impact on the menu. How could a straight black or flat-white be made more politically correct?

Traditionalists may snigger at The Guardian branching out into coffee, but to me the move is so blatantly in line with brand values that it does seem a natural rather than radical step. A Guardian oyster bar in One New Change would be laughable, but set in socially mobile Shoreditch, serving locally roasted coffee and sandwiches on ‘un-levesoned’ bread, Guardian Coffee is supremely self-aware.  It merely supplies existing fans with another way to ingest the brand.

By Polly Robinson

What does your coffee say about you?

This week, hot beverage politics hit the headlines, as news emerged that Ed Miliband plays the role of coffee boy in the opposition offices.

David Cameron chose Prime Ministers Questions as a fitting time to divulge this information, clearly hoping to suggest that Ed Miliband isn’t ‘butch’ enough to take on the top dog position of PM.

In the same week Ed Balls shrugged off claims that that he split a cappuccino over a colleague’s papers. Don’t be mistaken for thinking that Mr Balls was embarrassed at defacing government work though.  On the contrary, he was upset at the accusation that he drinks a sissy cappuccino, when his preferred choice is a double espresso with an extra shot of hot water.

Discussion of the inappropriate timing of David Cameron’s comments, and the implicit suggestion in both Balls’ and Cameron’s statements that you need to be ‘butch’ (manly) to succeed in politics, could go on for hours. Nevertheless, the incidents also relate to another controversial topic: What foods/ drinks give a good business impression?

After all, agree with Balls/Cameron or not, you can see their simple logic: Strong coffee= strong personality. Recognising this however can open the door to a whole range of anxieties. Does displaying a weakness for chocolate immediately pigeonhole you as sweet? Does choosing Chinese over Indian make you a boardroom pushover, unable to handle the heat?

A quick browse of the Internet unearths a wealth of similar food/office questions and insecurities. One forum I came across was completely dedicated to what you could and couldn’t eat in business meetings, offering numerous scenarios dependent on what those around you were eating and what time of day it was.

Another particularly entertaining article from The Guardian discussed the rise of the breakfast meeting and the issues of tucking into a full English whilst others reach for a low-fat soya fruit pot whilst downing a wheatgrass shot.

Nevertheless, by far the most sensible piece of advice, and one which I will forever follow, came from Karen Brady who tells women not to shun the canapés at dinner parties, ‘because you can see the pained expression on their faces.’ Karen is right, people may disapprove of fatty but no one likes a killjoy.

At the end of the day, people may judge others on what they eat. However, I hope I am not alone in thinking that to judge an individual’s business credentials based on their choice of coffee is utterly ridiculous. Ed Balls can drink a skinny frappuccino with whipped cream and a caramel shot for all I care, as long as he does his job. 

By Polly Robinson