How downtown State College’s ‘coffee pub’ has adapted, become a local tradition

To paraphrase Charles Darwin, the species that survives is the one most adaptable to change. Proof of that maxim can be found on Calder Way, at The Cheese Shoppe, where Bill Clarke has been adapting for 49 years, presiding over the general morning mayhem from his perch next to the coffee roaster.

When The Cheese Shoppe first opened in 1977, the signature offering was cheese. Wheels of hard cheeses like Jarlsberg, Morbier and Parmeggiano Reggiano were stacked behind the counter, with the perishable soft cheeses like Brie and Chevre filling the glass-doored refrigerator. In addition to 75 varieties of cheese, gourmet items from around the world lined the many shelves — Balsamic vinegars, olive oils, Lyle’s Golden Syrup and Vegemite, Italian pastas, smoked salmon from Ireland and Scotland. Gourmands from Williamsport, Altoona and Lewisburg made the pilgrimage to State College to pick up items for their fancy supper club dinners. Chefs and caterers met there to collect specialty items to enhance their menus.

But things changed. Cheese became associated with high cholesterol. Awareness of digestive issues with dairy led to less cheese on menus. But something else was in the air, and Bill Clarke jumped on board. He bought a German-made coffee roaster, the Probat, in 1990 on a trip to New York and learned how to use it. That was the beginning of coffee awareness in State College. Starbucks wasn’t here yet, but Clarke saw that freight train coming, and he was well-established with a cadre of devoted followers (OK, addicted followers) by the time the first Starbucks opened on West College Avenue in 2002.

Bill Clarke begins his mornings six days a week by stepping into The Cheese Shoppe at 7 a.m. to take his place on a barstool next to the Probat roaster. His loyal friends, John Leedy and Don Goldberg, arrive at the shop at 6, warming up the roaster and starting the various batches of coffee to be served from a line of airpots on the counter. He used to start his days at 3:30 a.m., roasting batch after batch before daylight so he would be ready to open the shop at 9. But he has Tom Sawyered his friends into starting the process so he can come in a little later.

It’s still dark when he arrives, but the heady aroma of fresh-brewed coffee is already in the air, and the twinkle lights are turned on in the dim recesses of the store.

Mornings at The Cheese Shoppe are proof that we live in a village — and also that it takes a village. All the regulars have jobs. Tony Sapia used to bring bread, but he sold his baking business and now swaps out the empty airpots with fresh ones, as needed, during his daily visit. The sandwich board gets put up on the sidewalk to alert passersby to look down. Folks, mostly men, stop by before work to grab a coffee and chat. The early crowd is tradesmen and professionals — carpenters, plumbers, real estate agents — before the men in blue —State College and campus police officers — roll in.

Around 8 a.m., that crowd disperses, and Penn State rugby players typically stop by for a bit of conversation and high-octane fuel. Merchants and hair stylists from the upstairs shops drop in as they open their doors and check in with Clarke, who does not wander from his perch next to the roaster, tending the 25-pound batches that he roasts from when he arrives until 1 in the afternoon. With 25 varieties of coffee, the list of what to roast next that manager Mark Johnson hands him never ends.

People serve themselves from the airpots and drop their money on the counter, making their own change. Don’t ask for half-and-half; there is Vale Wood Farms whole milk if you must put something in your coffee, because the higher fat in cream obscures the nuances of the coffee, says Clarke, and this is his game with his rules.

It is nothing like other coffee shops where you wait in line and are handed your beverage and dismissed. The atmosphere is friendly and festive, more like a bar, where sociability is the draw. It has been called a “coffee pub” because conversation is important. There is wisdom here; some of Clarke’s own quotes are taped to the wall behind his perch, and there is connection.

Some things have changed in the decades since the beginning. There are no longer 150 pound sacks of green beans lying around waiting to be processed. Today, Mark Johnson brings in tidy bins from a storage warehouse off-site. But the roasting process hasn’t changed at all.

In fact, what I wrote in my 2002 CDT article about The Cheese Shoppe’s coffee all holds true:

“Green beans spill into the top from a coal bucket, the interior drum rotates in gas-fired heat that ranges from 440°F to 480°F, then roasted beans rotate over a perforated grate to cool. Clarke times the roasting, which takes from 15-30 minutes, depending on whether he wants a light roast or a dark (French) roast, but his cocked head indicates he is listening for more subtle cues.

‘Each batch is different,’ Clarke explains, scooping the hot beans, hastening the cooling. ‘The age of the beans varies; there is different moisture content. It’s hard to say how long for each batch. You have to listen. The first sign is a popping sound, as the exterior shell pops off. Hear it?’ I strained to hear something beyond the rattle of the beans as they rotated, the buzz of conversation in the store, the whoosh of the powerful exhaust. Finally, I tuned in to something faint in the background, a rustling pop, a tiny sound.”

Clarke’s ear is tuned to that sound, and he knows when to stop the roasting and release the beans to cool. He used to wear a lanyard around his neck to time the roasting, but he now knows just when to drop.

Clarke celebrates his 82nd birthday on the day after St. Patrick’s Day, which is historically a big day for the shop, and this man of half-Irish descent. It’s not a green beer sort of celebration, but there may be a wee drop of Jameson in the coffee cups of the faithful.

Sadly, his wife, June, lost her battle to ovarian cancer 10 years ago, after 50 years of marriage, but he is supported by the community that he nurtures in the shop. Not long before June passed, he had an offer he couldn’t refuse and sold the business to Ray Caravan, but the daily presence in the shop is all Bill Clarke. He travels occasionally to visit daughters and grandchildren in Skylerville, New York, and Charlotte, North Carolina, but those away trips are rare. He is a steady force in the underpinnings of the town. His customers nurture him and appreciate all he has done to keep a vestige of the old State College alive and well and raring to go.

March is a great time to revisit The Cheese Shoppe. Wheels of Guinness Cheddar, Irish Cheddar, and Cashel have been ordered for the holiday and will be cut fresh on demand, old-school style, while you sip your coffee and enjoy the world transitioning into spring.

Bill Clarke’s at-home tips for a really good cup of coffee:

These recommendations are from Lew Bryson’s 2023 Seen Through a Glass Podcast interview with Clarke about coffee.

• Purchase freshly roasted whole coffee beans and store airtight, in a dark cupboard (not in the freezer)
• Buy only what you need for about a week
• Grind the beans close to when you want to enjoy a cup
• The water temperature for coffee should be 192 degrees
• At home, Clarke uses a French Press and lets the water and coffee grounds rest for 6 minutes before plunging

WC Clarke’s The Cheese Shoppe is located at 234 E. Calder Way and is generally open 8 a.m. to 3:30 p.m. Monday through Friday and 8 a.m. to 2:30 p.m. on Saturday.