Coffee reviews

Coffee review: Panama Finca Hartmann

Plainspoken Coffee. A Coffee Review for Ordinary People by Ordinary People, #8.

I have been interested in trying coffees from Finca Hartmann since I traveled to Panama a couple of years ago.  Finca Hartmann is in the Chiriqui highlands in the Boquete region, and most of the land is in shade coffee.  It is a popular birding destination, and researchers are welcome (they offer a field station for use) — many associated with the Smithsonian Tropical Research Institute have published papers on research conducted there, some with Hartmann family members as co-authors. Over 280 bird species have been recorded at the finca, and Christmas Bird Counts typically yield around 200 species.  It is an example of a finca with a great deal of concern for preservation of biodiversity that has not been certified shade or organic.  We tried several Finca Hartmann coffees from different roasters.

Paradise Roasters Palo Verde.  This coffee placed sixth in the 2006 Best of Panama competition — the same competition in which the Hacienda la Esmeralda won first prize. There are two “sections” to Finca Hartmann, and Palo Verde is the smaller, southernmost one on the property. This was a medium roast, with no oil on the beans.  I detected some sort of very sweet, fruity aroma in the beans that I found really nice.

As is typical, we tried this in the French press, Aeropress, and as a brew. Something had to have gone awry in the press, because it was pretty bad.  It fared better as an Americano from the Aeropress, and as a brew, where it was a nice, smooth, sweet, classic coffee, with a hint of chocolate.  In general, nobody was overwhelmed by it.  It was variously described as “unspectacular,” “not a lot of depth,” and one taster said, “I’m not moved by it.” I think I’m beginning to foster snobs.  2 motmots. Also available green, for which there is a review at Coffee Cuppers.

Mayorga Coffee Roasters Hartmann Estate.  This coffee was billed as a medium roast, but was leaning much darker than the Paradise Roaster selection, with all beans showing quite a bit of oil.  The coffee beans were quite fragrant, and the coffee itself fresh from the French press had a slightly fruity fragrance — a couple tasters suggested cherries.  This was a very well-balanced, smooth cup, without any distinctive characteristics, a classic cup.  “It’s just a good cup of coffee,” Nighthawk suggested.  I think a lighter roast might have coaxed some more interesting aspects out of the bean. 2.5 motmots.

Cafe Pronto Panama Boquete SHB, Hartmann Estate. This coffee was received a mere two days after ordering (truly pronto!), but had been roasted five days prior to ordering.  Thus it was 8 days old when we tried, within it’s fresh period, but perhaps “middle-aged.” Nonetheless, when the water hit it in the French Press, it produced a moderate amount of bloom, and was the hands-down winner of the three.

It was also a medium roast, with some beans showing a bit of oil.  The beans, both whole and ground, were very fragrant, sort of spicy, one of the most appealing aromas we’ve had from a Central American bean so far.  Very hot, the coffee delivered a juicy, almost mouth-watering first few sips.  It stayed just as good as it cooled, medium-bodied, with a very soft mouthfeel.  I wasn’t sure what to think when I saw this descriptor from the roaster, but it is certainly an apt adjective. Brewed, it was also tasty, but lacked some of the pleasant subtleties found when prepared in a press pot.

We could call this coffee well-balanced, but “harmonious” might be a better description.  As in many “classic” coffees, there were not a lot of flavors that jumped out.  Yet it stood out from the other Finca Hartmann’s.  Let’s call this a Classic ++ rated at 3.75  (nearly 4) motmots.

Kopi luwak

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:

Coffee review: Paradise Roasters Bolivia Calama Marka

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

Paradise Roasters Calama Marka Bolivia Cup of Excellence.

I had not actually intended on reviewing this coffee, but once a couple of us tasted it, we were so impressed we had to tell you about it. Calama Marka came in first place in the 2005 Bolivia Cup of Excellence competition, and a number of roasters (the now-familiar “Small Axe” cooperative) won the auction lot.  We tried it from Paradise Roasters, where it is also available green.

Calama Marka is a small farm, only 4.5 ha in coffee, in the Yungas region (in the central cordillera northeast of La Paz) where the majority of Bolivian coffee is grown.  This farm only grows typica, and although the farm is not certified organic, like most of the small holders that make up this area, it is passive organic and described as “nature friendly.”

The beans themselves, roasted to a medium brown without oil, had a candy-like fragrance. It was even more pronounced once freshly ground. One day, I ground a little too much, so I dumped the extra in my commuter French press to take the work the next day.  Many hours later, after only a few minutes in the car, the vehicle filled with this coffee’s enchanting aroma.

As usual, we prepared our first run in the French press.  For quite a few minutes, it evoked silence.  Finally, Risky Kingbird broke the spell.  “I am really enjoying this coffee!” he said.

It is beautifully balanced, smooth, with a lush, creamy mouthfeel.  Very hot, there is an initial juicy, citrus pulse. From first sip to last, it is full of chocolate, caramel, butterscotch, and hints of vanilla notes, especially as it cools.  You cannot come closer to a sweet, flavored coffee without adding extra ingredients.  There is an intriguing complexity that is subtle and delightful, like simple but great poetry.

There was not a hint of bitterness, not even in the last pour from the press, not even when I brewed it and left a quarter-inch in the pot to cook for a half-hour.  Every pot and cup was superior, even when the beans were past 10 days old.

Not only did everybody love this coffee, it got several “5 motmot” ratings. This is beautiful coffee.

But there’s more to this story…
There’s a bit of the star-crossed lover aspect to this coffee.  We have found true love, but will we ever be able to sip it again?

First, the farmer, Juan de Dios Blanco, was killed in a car crash shortly after he won the CoE.  Miguel Meza at Paradise Roasters told me that Juan’s wife is still operating the farm, but he does not know if she will continue to produce and market coffee.  Miguel was planning to visit the farm during the 2006 CoE competition, but the program was cancelled, which brings us to the next tragedy.

The coffee growing regions of Bolivia are also coca growing regions. In order to discourage coca growing and provide alternate sources of farm income, USAID has provided funding and support to promote specialty coffee in Bolivia.  Sponsoring the Cup of Excellence program was part of that effort, as the recognition and high price of winning coffees at auction are powerful incentives for farmers to improve their crops.  That the Bolivian CoE program was a stunning success is evident in the superb Calama Marka reviewed here. According to USAID, by 2003, over 5,000 families improved coffee harvest and post-harvest techniques, increasing their income by an average 38%; this in a country where 58% of the population lives in poverty.

Then the political situation in Bolivia changed, in a way that was not to the liking of the Bush Administration.  An article at Trade Aid summed it up:

Bolivia won’t be having a Cup of Excellence competition this year. Why not? Funding for the event has been provided previously by USAID, the main aid program run by the United States government, but this year USAID will not be contributing. Unhappy with the outcome of the presidential elections in late 2005 which installed Evo Morales in office instead of their own preferred candidate, the United States has
withdrawn funding as part of their wider campaign to hurt the Bolivian economy.

Promoting specialty coffee is not the answer to squelching coca production in Bolivia, but  the CoE was essentially the best and probably only way for farmers to become individually empowered (versus all their beans being mixed at a cooperative), for them to obtain the prices to truly motivate them to continue to improve their crops, and for these Bolivian coffees to get the recognition that commands attention from the coffee-buying public. This situation is really a shame, as it will do little or nothing to hinder Morales, and much to punish farmers and those of us who have discovered this wonderful coffee.  Hopefully, the Bolivian CoE will be held in 2007.  For more on the complexity and politics of coca and coffee in Bolivia, see this article in the World Policy Journal. A note from UK roaster Stephen Leighton about the cancellation of the CoE competition is at the Hasbean blog.

Other reviews of the Calama Marka:

Coffee review: Coffees from East Timor

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).