Caribou Coffee

Plainspoken Coffee. A Coffee Review for Ordinary People by Ordinary People, #38.

Pursuant to our backgrounder on Colombia, here’s another review of a Colombian coffee, one which is quite readily available, Caribou Coffee Colombia Timaná.

This is Caribou’s regular Colombian offering. It is Rainforest Alliance certified (100% of the beans), and comes from the the area near the southern town of Timaná in the Huila department (coordinates 1.983,-75.95). It is primarily of the Caturra variety, and grown at 1600 meters.

Caribou sources this coffee from a cooperative called Asociacion de Productores Agricolas de Timaná or ASPROTIMANA. In late 2005 ASPROTIMANA started the process towards Rainforest Alliance (RA) certification, with 26 growers participating. Now all 52 members (with 53 farms averaging about 6 ha) have received RA certification. As I mentioned in the previous post, there are many growing areas in Colombia at high altitude in which clouds provide shade. Growing coffee under additional cover in these areas creates problems with very low yields and sometimes issues with pathogens such as fungi.  Farmers in these areas often preserve adjacent forest plots. This is the case with the ASPROTIMANA growers. Almost 250 ha are in coffee grown in semi-shade (fulfilling RA requirements of 70 trees per ha of a dozen species), with another 35 ha being set aside for conservation.

This was a light roast with a really pleasant aroma; one taster found it “buttery and complex.” This was a very nice middle-of-the-road coffee, and we agree with Caribou when it says that it is “the perfect beginner’s coffee” or “perfect everyday coffee.” I have to say that (in keeping with making coffee like an ordinary person) that I prepared it one day in a French press a bit too strong. It was even better like this: more richly-bodied and robust, another reviewer that day described it as “resonant.” Another was extremely enthusiastic and rushed down the hall, cup in hand, to my office to ask me what he was drinking. We gave this coffee 3.5 motmots.

In 2007, Coffee Review gave it 88 points. It’s also one of the coffees available in several of Caribou’s Roastmaster’s Choice Clubs.

I also tried the Colombia Timaná Reserve, one of Caribou’s Origins Select coffees. It is from the same producers, but only from 6 select growers. This was also very nice coffee, but I honestly could not detect a significant difference from the regular Timaná, although more discerning tasters might very well be able to. Anyway, kudos to Caribou for this tasty, sustainable selection.

Plainspoken Coffee. A Coffee Review for Ordinary People by Ordinary People, #27.

Caribou Coffee’s latest Roastmaster Reserve is Panama Maunier, from Panama’s Boquette region in Chirqui province.

Caribou indicates this is an estate coffee, named for French flower grower and former owner Monsieur Gilbert Maunier de La Espriella. Things have become a bit more complicated since Maunier sold the farm in 1985 to Plinio Ruiz, founder of Casa Ruiz SA, a well-known producer, processor, and coffee exporter in Panama.  Other Casa Ruiz brands include La Berlina or Finca Berlina and Panamaria.

Ruiz added more land adjoining the Maunier Estate, as well as processing beans from neighboring farms. From the multiple sources I consulted, including the Casa Ruiz site itself, “Maunier Estate” coffee comes from a number of farms, not just one estate. The last several years, Maunier Estate coffee has placed in the Best of Panama competition. It’s possible these competition/auction lots are isolated from the original Maunier farm, but given Caribou’s volume, the Roastmaster’s Reserve is no doubt the standard multi-farm blend sold under the “Maunier Estate” brand.

Maunier grows 40% caturra, 30% bourbon, and 25% typica at 1400 to 1700 meters. Much of Panama’s coffee is grown in a fairly sustainable manner. Another Casa Ruiz web site states that their coffees are grown in an environmentally-friendly manner under shade with little or no chemicals (several of their brands are, in fact, organic). I was not able to unearth any specific further details on their growing methods.

On to the coffee. This is a light roast (a “3” on Caribou’s 1-10 scale), a wise choice for Central American coffees, whose delicate flavors are easily erased by more aggressive dark roasts. Even so, I braced myself to distinguish and describe yet another mild-mannered Central American. Other than the crazy geisha, we haven’t had much to say about most Panamanian coffees, which have the “classic” coffee profile.

Caribou’s Maunier is no exception. In a nutshell, it was actually more boring than many other Centrals; I would describe it as fairly one-dimensional. It wasn’t bad, really, it just didn’t have any spark to speak of and not many sweet chocolately tones one usually finds in these coffees.

Also unlike any Central I can recall, rather than a bright, light body, the Maunier seemed much heavier, nearly syrupy when prepared in a French press. Clearly, this wasn’t a result of a dark roast. We thought perhaps instead we’d been a little careless in preparation, but this was one characteristic that stood out over repeated tastings. Later, I reviewed the various cup profiles on Maunier, which described it as floral, herbal, somewhat spicy or winey, and acidic — and with heavy body. While we got some interesting floral and “bubble gum” aromas from the beans and ground coffee, in the cup the Maunier was rather generic, save for this full-bodied mouthfeel.

It is this rich body that I think will appeal to many ordinary American coffee drinkers, who tend to not appreciate subtlety and seem to like sturdier coffees. There’s nothing offensive about the Maunier. Folks not looking for anything intriguing or unique will find Caribou’s Maunier to be a classic, straightforward coffee with a body that will stand up to cream, sugar, or other additives. We were a little uninspired, and gave it 2.5 motmots.

Plainspoken Coffee. A Coffee Review for Ordinary People by Ordinary People, #17.

Coffee from Ecuador is something you don’t see every day. In fact, I think I’ve seen more places offering coffee from the Galapagos Islands (which are Ecuadorian) than from the mainland. So I was surprised to see it offered at Caribou Coffee.  Their limited edition coffees are known as the Roastmaster’s Reserves, and the current selection is Ecuador Changaimina, from the southern province of Loja (red on map).

Coffee has been grown in Ecuador for generations.  The lowlands produce robusta, but the high mountain regions produce decent  arabicas. Most of the high-grown coffee, from Loja province, is grown on small farms with very little use of chemicals. The major co-op in this area is PROCAP (Asociacion Agroartesanal de Productores de Café de Altura Puyango), an
organization of 380 families of which about two-thirds are certified organic. The organic coffee from this co-op is sometimes marketed as shade grown Puyango (Puyango is a canton, or subdivision, in the province, and the most important coffee-growing area in Loja, if not the whole country). Typica, bourbon, and caturra are the most frequently grown varieties, usually all grown on the same farm.

The lack of Ecuador beans in the market has been due to a lack of attention to proper harvesting and processing, and the expense of transportation from the highlands to the ports. A lot of Ecuadorian coffee goes to making instant coffee, so the large corporate coffee roasters are major buyers of Ecuadorian coffee. Improvements have been made in production methods, and farmers are aiming more for the specialty coffee market, hence we may be seeing more Ecuadorian coffee in the coming years.

Based on this Caribou Ecuador Changaimina, we cannot say the region is quite ready for prime time.  This wasn’t bad coffee, just unremarkable. At the first tasting, three of us sat there sipping silently, unable to come up with much to say. The next day, I sent the Kingfisher off with it in his travel mug.  I asked him later what he thought of it.  He sort of summed up the whole experience when he replied, “I don’t remember.”  Not a strong endorsement, but considering you tend to remember bad coffee, not a strong condemnation, either. 2.25 motmots.