JOE BY ANY OTHER NAME; SPECIALTY COFFEES FIND WAY TO GOLDEN ARCHES.

Byline: Douglas Haberman Daily News Staff Writer

There's something brewing in Southern California restaurants - and it isn't just plain old-fashioned coffee.

The craze for specialty, flavored and blended java - typified by the astronomical success of the Starbucks chain - has grown so big it's penetrated to at least a few area franchises of that most all-American of burger joints, McDonald's.

Then, of course, there are still bastions of the good old, plain bottomless cup of coffee, like Du Par's, a Studio City landmark for 50 years.

In fact, Du Par's removed an espresso machine because customers really just wanted old-fashioned joe, said manager Ted Smith.

``We're strictly a coffee shop,'' he said. ``Our menu doesn't call for those specialty coffees. We'll leave that to Starbucks.''

But such traditional coffee shops are bucking a powerful trend, said Ted Lingle, executive director of the Specialty Coffee Association of America in Long Beach.

``Coffee's been going through a gradual change that started at the retail level,'' he said, with shoppers asking for more variety on supermarket shelves.

For years, the food-service industry didn't wake up and smell the coffee, allowing Starbucks and other stores to step in, he said.

Now, restaurants and convenience shops are finally, if gradually, catching on and offering a greater variety of coffee products, said Lingle.

``Even though we have a yuppie image with Starbucks, the reality is it's becoming a Middle-American product,'' he said.

Take the experience of Art Herrera, who owns McDonald's franchises in Sunland and Acton. He has been selling cappuccino to customers for four years. Constantly honing the menu to meet demand, his two restaurants now offer cappuccino, cafe latte and mocha, four flavored coffees - including Almond Mocha Roca - as well as iced coffee and shakes with coffee.

``I'm attracting a market that typically doesn't come to McDonald's,'' said Herrera. ``In the Acton store, I figure I added 70 customers to my customer base.''

At his Sunland restaurant, specialty-coffee sales spike in the afternoon, with soccer moms driving up to feed a snack to their children and to enjoy a latte themselves, he said.

Jay Schutz's family owns five McDonald's in the Santa Clarita Valley and more than half a year ago put $10,000 machines in four of the franchises that can grind coffee beans, brew the beverage, steam milk, mix it all up and pour it into cups.

The family will make back its $40,000 investment in the first year, said Schutz. ``The consumer has met us with overwhelming support,'' he said.

Customers asking for more than a regular cup o' joe range from twenty somethings to boomers, Schutz said. ``The senior community hasn't ever been a cappuccino community,'' he added.

But senior citizen Katherine Armstrong of Huntington Beach is a latte fan. She stopped by the Starbucks at Topanga Canyon and Ventura boulevards for a mild afternoon recharge Friday.

A latte - ``milk'' in Italian - is more milk than coffee and it has much less of an edge than plain joe, said Armstrong. ``I just like the taste of it better,'' she said.

Because of folks like Armstrong, restaurants are starting to demand better coffee and more varieties from suppliers, said Brian McCoy, production manager for Apffels Coffee Roasters in Los Angeles, a family-owned business since 1914.

``Once people know what specialty coffee tastes like, they prefer it,'' he said. ``We're selling more and more espresso.''

One of Apffels' clients is the Tustin-based Mimi's Cafe chain, with 31 restaurants, including one in Chatsworth. The chain only offered regular or decaffeinated coffee until four years ago, said purchasing director Rick Seegmiller. It has since put espresso machines in all its stores, he said.

``Our customers were demanding that,'' he said.

Within the past year, the restaurants also began pouring a French roast for coffee drinkers who wanted a stronger brew, he said.

The strength of the specialty-coffee craze caught Seegmiller off guard, he admitted. ``I thought it was a fad,'' he said.