01.27.10
Coffee Happened
“Didn’t you say you’ll never open up a cafe again?”
A friend reminded me while he sipped his coffee that I, once again, made as paid barista behind the counter.
“So, what happened?”
Well, coffee happened.
Great, glorious beans by the hillful have been finding their way to Australia - now finally becoming a respectable bean destination rather than the repository of past-crop detritus. These beans come just after harvest with details of provenance readily available. A few years ago it would have been the exception, rather than the rule, that I could trace the beans back to farm. Details of the Colombia I bought in 2003 remain as unreturned phone call from a broker.
While what’s in the cup that ultimately matters, traceability is becoming a dependable barometer. And while traceability is by no means the sole benchmark for great coffee, it speaks volumes of the pride that people have taken over their product:
Farmer: mark my name on that bag. I planted these bourbons seedling by seedling and tended every shoot;
Farmer/miller: mark my name on that bag; I daren’t dilute it with lesser lots, every phase supervised, every bean scrutinised;
Importer: mark my name on that bag, I invested in the crop because I believe in it;
So, as Roaster: I know whose hands tended these beans, my minutes of labour with the roaster by no means match the years and months spent under sun, rain and dirt, but I’ll try to roast them in ways that express the farmer’s intentions.
And, as Barista: though I prepare the coffee, my ultimate skill is to render my hand invisible, and present the coffee inviolate as if the farmer him/herself is offering it from the farmgate.
I am glad things are very different from 2003. I am glad coffee is happening.