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:

Poor quality Vietnamese beans (that end up in grocery store coffee)

A short article entitled “Quality of Vietnamese coffee poor”appeared recently on a Vietnam news site. It notes that Vietnam is the world’s second largest producer of coffee, but that 89% of its crop is low-quality robusta. And it adds, “The reason is the massive use of inorganic fertilizer, water, insecticide and poor processing technology.”

Where do these beans end up? In your cup, if you buy cheap coffee from one of these large corporations.

Nestlè (Nescafe, Taster’s Choice) buys 20 to 25% of Vietnam’s coffee. Kraft (brands include Chase and Sanborn, General Foods International Coffee, Gevalia, Maxwell House, and Sanka) is another major buyer; at a 2003 shareholder meeting, Kraft Chairperson Louis Camilleri said that the firm buys coffee in Vietnam that does not meet even minimum ICO [International Coffee Organization] standards, the first admission from a major company regarding purchase of sub-quality beans.  At the Folgers web site, Proctor & Gamble admitted to buying Vietnamese coffee: “We purchase our coffee beans from all over the world, including Vietnam. The percentage of beans from any one country varies all the time, depending on availability.” (Note that Folgers is now owned by JM Smucker, but probably uses P&G’s sourcing avenues). Sara Lee/Douwe Egberts (Chock Full o’Nuts, Hills Brothers) also buys coffee from Vietnam and is in a partnership with Kraft in that country.*

Kenneth Davids at Coffee Review sums up the problem with most robustas in today’s market:

Apparently with the support of the World Bank, robustas recently have been planted in very large quantities in Vietnam. These are mass-produced coffees at their most dramatic: stripped from the trees, leaves, unripe, ripe and overripe fruit and all, and dried in deep piles. All of which means the essentially bland, grainy robusta character is topped off with an assortment of off-tastes, mainly musty/mildewed and fermented. These coffees sell for considerably less than all other coffees, including better quality robustas. I am told that production costs for Vietnamese robustas are about 20 cents per pound or less, compared to, for example, production costs of 80 to 90 cents per pound for the excellent “100% Colombia” coffees competing in the supermarket. And now the current episode: Commercial dealers and roasters have learned to steam the often foul-tasting Vietnamese robustas, removing the waxy covering of the bean and muting (but not entirely eliminating) the offensive flavor notes.

To read about the human and environmental toll of coffee in Vietnam, read this article from Tea & Coffee by Mark Pendergrast, author of the outstanding book, Uncommon Grounds. The article includes a history of coffee in Vietnam, and describes how more than a million acres of the Vietnamese highlands were planted in mostly robusta coffee in the late 1990s, land which was abandoned after the drop in coffee prices, “leaving the exposed soils to the torrential rain. Erosion, siltation, land slips, flash floods, and water shortage are the obvious results.”

It’s enough to convince you to seek out sustainable coffee.

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:

Research: Ants on Colombian coffee farms

Armbrecht, I., I. Perfecto, and E. Silverman. 2006. Limitation of nesting resources for ants in Colombian forests and coffee plantations.  Ecological Entomology 31:403-410.

Ants are popular research subjects in coffee farms because they are abundant and important components of tropical forest ecosystems (summaries of other research here). This study looked at ants that nest in leaf litter and those that nest in twigs to see if these nest sites are limited in different coffee farm types — sun, monogeneric shade, polygeneric shade, and in forest.

The response of the ants to the type of coffee farm depended a great deal on the species, elevation, and predatory ant assembleges.  Major findings include that there were more species of litter-nesting ants in the shade systems than in sun coffee, and there were more ant colonies in the monogeneric system (one species of shade tree) than in the polygeneric (multiple species of shade trees) or sun systems.  This was an intriguing finding, I thought, and the authors thought that in part it might be due to the fact that the polygeneric shade farms were also organic, and used coffee pulp as a mulch — generally placed right where the ant plots used in the study were located.  Caffeine in the pulp could have depressed the number of ants in these plots (the number of species was very high, however).

The farms were in the Apia municipality, and the sun farms were La Felisa, La Maria, and La Estrella.  This is not the same La Estrella farm that placed in the 2006 Cup of Excellence program (that one is in Huila “state” while Apia is in Risaralda).  La Clarita, one of the polygeneric farms in the study, is Rainforest Alliance certified.