Indo-Pacific

Plainspoken Coffee. A Coffee Review for Ordinary People by Ordinary People, #33.

The vast majority of the coffee grown in Thailand is robusta, grown in the southern part of the country and commonly doused with chemicals. In the late 1970s, planting of arabica coffee (and other crops) in the northern highlands was encouraged in order to replace the cultivation of opium poppies, as well as to counter deforestation from shifting agriculture practiced by many of the local ethnic groups, known as “hill tribes.”

The hill tribes of the northern Thailand have faced extreme challenges in the past several decades. When cultivation of opium poppies was outlawed in 1958, it forced these people to use more land to generate income and sustenance, a situation exacerbated by their increasing numbers, which have quadrupled the last 30 years; the growth rate is double that of the national average. The poverty of the hill tribes is further compounded by their cultural isolation, difficulty in attaining citizenship and land ownership, and lack of good access to education and other employment opportunities.

Until recently, much of the coffee grown in Thailand was typically used in the domestic market. The better arabica beans were mixed in with inferior beans, so some farmers were not receiving the prices their beans merited. Now some of the hill tribes in northern Thailand are working with partners to market their beans for export.

The Akha tribe of Chiang Rai province in the Golden Triangle is one. Their Canadian partners are Vancouver investment banker John Darch, trade and shipping executive Wayne Fallis, and Alberta roaster Shawn McDonald. McDonald’s coffee ventures include Planet Coffee Roasters and import/export company Mayan Winds. They’ve teamed up to form the Doi Chaang Coffee Company. The tribe’s coffee farmers, consisting of over 800 families, retains a 50% ownership in this company, and entirely owns their Thai-based company.

Doi Chaang coffee is grown on over 2400 ha in the vicinity of the village of Doi Chang (20.325, 99.839) in Chiang Rai province (highlighted on map above) at around 1200 meters. It is 50% Caturra, 35% Catimor, and 15% Catuai. The coffee is grown
under the shade of various fruit and nut trees, including macadamia, plum, pear, and peach. Reforestation efforts in the area strive for a 50/50 mix of native tree species and cash crop species (both marketable and consumable crops are necessary to replace the income formerly generated by poppy growing). The photo below shows some of the coffee and shade cover in Doi Chaang: there appears to be liberal use of shade trees and nice variety.

No chemicals are used on the coffee, and it is certified organic. The coffee is wet processed and sun dried.

Doi Chaang offers eight varieties/roasts including aged and peaberry offerings. Green beans are also available. We reviewed the medium roast. Our expectation was that it might be slightly on the darker side of “medium,” since many south Asian/Indonesian coffees are roasted dark. But it was a typical medium roast with just a few pinpricks of oil. The aroma was interesting, and did lean towards an Indonesian bean. It was described by our panel as spicy (several people), woodsy, dry, tobacco/smoke, and (in the spirit of not dismissing anybody’s opinion) soy sauce, and meatloaf with gravy.

Those of us with more coffee tasting experience were anticipating a taste like a Sumatran or Timor. We were very surprised by the Doi Chaang coffee — it started out with more acidity than we expected, a juicy, tart beginning that was more reminiscent of a Central American. It was also much sweeter than we thought it would be, also like a Central, with a little hint of chocolate. As it cooled, it betrayed its heritage, with cedar and especially leather notes coming through, and it had a characteristically Indonesian heavy body. Overall, however, the Sumatran-like profile was muted and subtle, and mingled with classic Central American attributes. It was a really interesting and pleasing combination. Darker roasts, of course, might weigh in more on the Indonesian-like side.

We confess that brewed in a drip machine, it lost much of this intriguing nature. It was still pleasant, but both the bright sweetness and the sturdy leather spicyness were rather lost. It would not be a disappointment, but if you try the Doi Chaang, prepare it at least once in a French press to appreciate the subtle and satisfying interplay of flavors. The final tally was 3.25 motmots. Coffee Review tasted the peaberry and the dark roast varieties last year. UPDATE: We review the Doi Chaang Wild Civet coffee here.

The Doi Chaang project represents part of an effort towards sustainable agriculture and development in northern Thailand to provide economic stability for the hill tribes. Thailand has been losing forests at a higher rate than most other southeast Asian countries. Although mixed agriculture that includes coffee and other crops and native trees is not “reforestation” in a pure sense, it is certainly preferable to illegal logging and unsustainable farming practices. Some ventures to aid the hill tribes have met with criticism and failure, and one of the early problems was an inability to efficiently move and market cash crops. The energetic marketing efforts of Doi Chaang Coffee Company of a quality product, as well as the retention of ownership by the Akha, indicate this project is better concieved and executed, and much more of a success.

More general info:

• Reclaiming the Golden Triangle — Ecos Magazine (link to PDF)
• Thailand environmental profile — Mongabay
• Fragmentation and wildlife in montane evergreen forests, northern Thailand. Pattanavibool, A. and P. Dearden. 2002. Biol. Cons. 107:155-164.
• Secondary forest succession after the cessation of swidden cultivation in the montane forest area in Northern Thailand. 2008. Forest Ecol. Manage. doi:10.1016/j.foreco.2007.12.022

Recently, I posted a backgrounder on Papua New Guinea coffee. One of my favorite coffees is Allegro Coffee Roaster’s PNG Sigri Estate, which is not reviewed here because the crop ran out and it was unavailable at my local Whole Foods Market. In fact, it’s my understanding that PNG coffees are best when the beans come from the peak of harvest. So these reviews should perhaps be taken with a grain of salt, as this time of year last year’s crop (2006) would be a bit long in the tooth anyway.

First up is The Roasterie’s Kimel Estate, from the Eastern Highlands. This coffee was closest to a Sumatran of the three we tried. It was fairly heavy, sort of tannic and earthy, but not quite as in-your-face as a Sumatran. Very hot, it had sharp notes, but as it cooled the dull leathery tones emerged; I describe these woody/earthy flavors as wet cardboard, which sounds a little more unpleasant than it is.  We found this wasn’t a subtle, sweet coffee, and would be more of a hit with people who like more aggressive tastes. We gave it 2.5 motmots, but our take on this was at complete odds with the description at Coffee Review. Take two reviews and call us in the morning.

Ecco Caffe’s Purosa Estate is an organic coffee that is not technically from a single estate, but from small holders in Western Highlands. This coffee was very bright with a surprising citrus zing when hot.  It was full-bodied, and as it cooled it got a bit syrupy, rustic, and earthy. We found this generally very interesting, with many little flavors hitting the tongue throughout. 3.25 motmots.

Last up was Counter Culture’s Red Mountain, from the Waghi Valley in the Western Highlands. (Caveat: I know this was the last batch from the crop.) The most curious thing about this coffee was that the taste gave us no hint of origin. It was closest to a classic Central American, pleasant and subtle, but with few other distinguishing characteristics. All of us got a fleeting zesty sparkle on the first hot sip; like a shooting star it quickly faded into the dark night. Like the other PNGs, it was medium-bodied, but a bit lighter than the others, further obscuring a sense of source. 2.75 motmots.

These coffees were all over the page. It’s actually one of the things a couple of us really like about PNG coffees — they are a bit mysterious and hard to pin down, you just don’t know what you might get in the cup.  But given the age of the coffees in these reviews, we’re going to revisit PNG coffees when roasters start getting their 2007 crop because none of these lived up to what we have enjoyed in PNGs in the past. Stay tuned.

What is kopi luwak?
In a recent post I mentioned kopi luwak, the coffee that is “processed” in the digestive tract of a civet cat (usually Paradoxurus hermaphroditus).  These animals (found in southeast Asia and related to mongooses, although they look and behave a bit like raccoons) eat ripe coffee berries.  Stomach enzymes have a subtle but apparently genuine chemical impact on the coffee beans, which are gathered as soon as possible after being passed by the civet, e.g., in the scat.

I mentioned Animal Coffee in my post, a company which specializes in kopi luwak.  I soon received a 4-oz sample of luwak beans, as well as a hunk of civet crap in lucite (left), and a brochure, all enclosed in a very attractive gift box, a really nice presentation.

Is this sustainable coffee?
I’ll get to a review of the coffee itself, but first let’s try to determine if this is sustainable coffee.

Civets eat mostly ripe fruit and seeds, but also small vertebrates and insects.  Since the civets do not eat coffee berries exclusively, luwak-processed beans are not common.  They also must be harvested from fresh scat, before rain breaks up the clustered beans/poop.  This is because 1) the elements might further change the taste of the beans, 2) the beans would be very hard to find on the forest floor individually, and 3) Animal Coffee, at least, requires the beans to come to them in scat form to be assured they are genuinely luwak-passed. So, the availability of luwak beans is limited; I’ve read that annual production is between 200 to 500 pounds (100 to 250 kilos).

Asian palm civets have a wide range throughout southeast Asia (see map). Because civets do not produce enough volume from any single location, the beans are from a variety of places — even (and probably) different countries.  Some beans will be robusta, some arabica, some lots mixed.  Distributors like Animal Coffee and Indonesian Grocery must be able to narrow down bean type at least some of the time, because both are types are available for order.  There is no way, however, to determine if the beans came from a rustic small plot, or a large sun coffee plantation dosed with chemicals. (Note that due to animal cruelty issues, most coffee certifications disqualify luwak produced coffee.)

Civets are arboreal animals, living in trees and raising young in tree cavities. This might indicate that they would require forested areas near the coffee farms where they forage. However, any bunch of trees will generally do, as these animals are quite adaptable to human activities and will live towns and villages.

What’s it taste like?
The sample I received was labeled  robusta from Sumatra.  The beans were all shapes and sizes, from the size of a BB to more typically-sized, along with shards and beans misshapen by, perhaps, their arduous intestinal journey. Their variety, a sample shown below, is also a testament to their unrelated origins. The roast was fairly dark, with most beans showing some oil.

The smell was unpleasant and discomforting, a burnt rubber/plastic smell.  It was vaguely reminiscent of the distinct aroma of other Indonesian coffees, but far more strong and offensive.  Musky I might have expected, but this smell was not animal-like it any way. It was just as pronounced and weird when the beans were ground.  It brought back memories of opening the door to the garage of my childhood home, where my dad and brother had disassembled a car and had greasy parts all over.  Yes, that’s it!  This coffee smells like used auto parts.

It tasted no better than it smelled, I’m afraid. We made it in a French press, as is our habit when first tasting a new coffee. Super hot, you were hit by the strong — ghastly — aroma, which battled with the taste.  It mattered not who won.  It was flat, mono-dimensional, and just nasty. It became rapidly and progressively worse as it cooled. It was not “crappy” tasting, it just had an overwhelmingly assertive flavor of dirty, burnt  rubber gasket.  We tasted it next to a fairly generic organic Sumatran, which was like ambrosia in comparison.

On the small chance this was an anomaly, we made it again, this time in the Eva Cafe Solo, and served it to more people, including some that were regular diner/pedestrian coffee drinkers. The kopi luwak was consistent, just as aggressively malodorous and grimace-producing as before. One of our most mild-mannered friends announced it was worse than vending machine coffee and declined a second sip.  Another was also repulsed by it, and later wrote to me: “After three light sips, I was lost and confused.  Was this from a cat’s rectum or a cat’s litterbox? I soon realized, it didn’t matter….”  Star[bucks]ling agreed it reminded him of a Jiffy Lube, and found it undrinkable as it cooled.

It’s possible, I suppose, that some batches can be good, some bad, since there isn’t enough of it to be sourced from one place. And having been shipped directly from Indonesia, which takes 7 to 10 days to the U.S., it was also not that fresh.  You can order green beans, and perhaps they’d be better.

Still, it is really hard to understand how even the freshest luwak coffee could overcome the shortcomings we experienced.  It might drinkable, but it has way too far to go to become outstanding or worthy of the price it commands. The chemical changes that take place in the digestive system of the civet are subtle — primarily, proteins are leached out. Proteins in coffee cause bitterness, but bitterness wasn’t really this coffee’s problem, so that can’t account for big improvements. Add that to the hodge-podge of beans — grown in various southeast Asian countries/regions on many different farms under different conditions — it’s just a literal crap shoot that you are going to get a great batch of coffee beans. I just can’t imagine that this coffee can in any way compare with a halfway decent bean grown and roasted with care.

The (ahem) bottom line
Ten people tried this coffee, more than our usual reviews. Some were not told ahead of time what it was, to prevent bias. I don’t think any of us had high expectations, and peculiar or unextraordinary we could have accepted.  This was wicked. None of us got past an ounce or two, which classified it as basically undrinkable.  It killed the motmot.

Nor can we recommend it on the basis of sustainability.  There is no way to guarantee the beans were sustainably grown. On a positive note, you won’t find another fecal product as attractively gift-boxed as kopi luwak from Animal Coffee.

Here are some other reviews.  There are many fans of kopi luwak, but I have to wonder if those who pay top dollar for it have to convince themselves they love it. At any rate, you will note others are also impressed with the service and packaging from Animal Coffee.

More information, including updated links:

• My post on research: Kopi luwak (civet poop) coffee threatens welfare of animals
• National Geographic: The Disturbing Secret Behind the World’s Most Expensive Coffee
• Daily Coffee News: Certifiers Shutting Out Producers Using Caged Civets for Kopi Luwak
• Daily Coffee News: Caged Civet Coffee Tourism on the Rise in Bali, Says World Animal Protection

Plainspoken Coffee. A Coffee Review for Ordinary People by Ordinary People, #7.

In a previous post, I discussed the political situation in East Timor, and the role of coffee in the economy. I promised short reviews of several Timor coffees, and here they are.  These are all Fair Trade, organic, and grown in shade.

Counter Culture — Maubesse.  City roast, very little oil.  The beans had a spicy, smoky aroma.  Freshly brewed, it had an amazing woodsy, cedar odor.  Both Star[bucks]ling and Nighthawk immediately exclaimed that it evoked the cedar bogs of the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. Soon we found out that it tasted very different than it smelled.

The first few sips of hot coffee had a momentary sparkle.  After, there was a very subtle butterscotch element that lingered slightly.  But overall, we were very surprised at the simplicity of this coffee.  East Timor’s nearest coffee-producing neighbor is Sulawesi, and it, like other Indonesian coffees, seems to have a lot of character (in fact, we really didn’t like the pungent Starbucks Sulawesi we reviewed). Yet this was much friendlier coffee, without a lot of easily distinguished flavors, to our palates.  We rate this 2.75 motmots.

Sweetwater Organic Coffee Company — Maubesse.  This was the first time we tried the same source, different roaster (unfortunately, not at the same time). Billed as a full city roast, it was medium brown, with only the faintest hints of oil on the bean.

Brewed, it did not have the initial citrusy sparkle as the Counter Culture, but overall it was more distinctive.  It had the woodsy, cedary taste and especially aroma, that we are learning is characteristic of Indonesian coffees.

We decided to really bring out the character and tried it in a press.  Doing so evoked strong reactions from all tasters. Those who like Indonesian coffees liked the cedar/woodsy flavors that popped out with this preparation.  Those that don’t really care for those tones thought it tasted like bark. There were distinct leather flavors as well, apparently typical of this source but not everybody’s cup of tea (so to speak).

I don’t very often drink milk in my coffee, but since Con Leche was not available, both Kingfisher and I tried it this way, his with soy milk.  We both liked it better with milk, but it gave it a kind of chalky mouthfeel.

I’m not a huge fan of Indonesian coffees, but kept trying this every other day or so. I was amazed that it seemed each time I tried it, some other taste combination cropped up, variations on a theme, depending on how I prepared it, or even with what I considered pretty minor differences in the strength.  Some cups I thought I liked more than others, one batch was just alarming — it took Kingfisher by surprise and he exclaimed that it was terrible on the first sip.  By the time it cooled, he ended up thinking it wasn’t too bad. All in all, a testimony to the complexity of this bean.

It seemed that Sweetwater was able to bring out a little more of the terroir of this bean, which would have been an asset if there were more Indonesian fans in this tasting round. It ended up with 2.25 motmots. Also available as decaf.

Sweetwater Organic Coffee Company — Carpe Diem blend. Side-by-side with their Maubesse, we tried Sweetwater’s blend of Timor, Sumatra, and Bolivian beans.  It was also labeled a medium roast, although it looked just a tiny bit darker.  Both as a brew and in a press and Cafe Solo, this coffee had the characteristics of the Timor, mellowed just a bit by the South American bean.

It was nicer as a drip, rich and interesting. In the press, the Sulawesi, perhaps, contributed to an earthier tone than the single-source. This earthiness intensified as the coffee cooled; some of us detected a nearly musty flavor. The woodsy flavors were also pronounced, and it was a bit spicier and smokier as well. There was a cocoa/carmelly lingering aftertaste. I consistently tasted a rubber note in both of these coffees…but I liked the blend better than the single source.  We gave the Carpe Diem 2.5 motmots.

These were tough reviews for us…their complexity often left us at a loss for words, and for the most part none of us were huge fans of the distinctive flavors of the coffees of this region. If you are fond of Indonesian coffees, though, absolutely give these a try.  The timid can drink them brewed to be teased by the character, or prepare them in a Chemex, press, etc. for much more intense flavors.  We would not recommend a Timor in a dark roast…we did try a darker roast Timor from Heine Brothers prior to getting into these formal reviews, and none of us liked it.

To get a load of what the experts think, go read the Coffee Review reviews of Timor coffees (sounds like I have a stutter).