|
 Tea in the
Fast Lane
Three Cuppings, a
Three-Year Contract
and 23 Years of Aging
Fair
For All
A Tale of
Two Cafés
Fit for Print
From the Publisher
Unfiltered
The Deep Steep
Business Basics
Fresh Products
Fresh Faces
Fresh on the Scene
Show Calendar
Advertiser Index
|
|
|
|
Three Cuppings, a Three-Year Contract, and 23 Years of Aging
Memories of a Trip to Guatemala
Story and photos by Doug Zell
The story always begins the same way. We leave our houses in the predawn glow
of Chicago's streetlights and seemingly hulking and breathing skyline. We head
to the airport's international terminal, where our preflight meal consists of
a Canadian-bacon-free Egg McMuffin. We don't care if our special request slows
the line to a screeching halt-hell, we're on our way to Guatemala. Geoff Watts,
our coffee buyer, began this tradition four years ago on our first trip to coffee
origin together. I'm not exactly sure why it continues, but we've certainly done
nothing to change it. Perhaps superstitiously we believe it is a first and necessary
step to a successful journey to origin.
After a stop in Houston, we're on to Guatemala City, sleeping for
most of both flights. For some reason, touching down in Guatemala City is always
challenging, and each time it bumps up higher on my top-five list of worst landings.
I'm fairly certain that Geoff has grown increasingly bored with my babbling about
transcontinental air travel, but he smiles and nods nonetheless. I'm amazed that
in fewer than six hours, we have arrived in a dramatically different culture.
We hop a cab to our hotel in Guatemala City. After unpacking, I
put on my running shoes for a jog. It's late afternoon and about 90 degrees Farenheit.
Any remotely sane person would strongly discourage running in a city known for
less-than-perfect air quality, particularly during rush hour. But that's never
stopped me or the other coffee professionals I've run with in places like Oaxaca
City, Puerto Escondido, San José, Antigua, and Managua. Fortunately, I don't jog
fast, and sanity does not run high among those in the specialty coffee industry.
A quick jog helps me to feel grounded and shake off the jet lag. Somehow, it also
makes me feel like I blend in-what a lovely delusion. 
After the run, Geoff and I meet with the local representative from
a large coffee export company, and we head to their offices for a cupping. For
about 30 minutes we discuss the specialty coffee industry in the United States
and around the world. I've been to origin a number of times, but for some reason,
until now, I have never put all the pieces of the supply chain together. Perhaps
the coffee chain has never been explained to me so clearly, and before now, all
the pieces seemed so disparate. But suddenly, the realization of where I have
to get in line to acquire the very best coffee hits me like the pleasant shock
of the day's first espresso-a sort of dialed-in, knowing, squinting bliss.
Here's how that chain presumably works. Find an importer who believes
in what you are doing, and specify the origin and cup qualities you are looking
for. Go to that origin and find an exporter and a producer or cooperative that
will work with you and your importer to get you exactly what you want. Make the
whole deal transparent so you are absolutely certain that everyone, including
the farmer or cooperative, is completely satisfied with how much they will be
compensated. And, of course, be willing to pay for the quality you desire. Sound
simple? It's about as easy as making a transcontinental call using two tin cans
and string.
We are in Guatemala to try to find a way to get this system of
tin cans and string to work. That is to say, the purpose of our trip is to put
together a three-year contract with a particular grower who has all of the right
conditions to grow fabulous coffee, and with a seasoned exporter who can ensure
that the coffee will be handled and prepared to Geoff's "particular" standards.
Fortunately, we found just the importer to help us put it all together.
 At
the cupping table, we sample a number of pleasant coffees representative of the
various regions and cultivars of Guatemala, including caturra, catuai and 100%
bourbon, but none that we feel compelled to buy. We thank our host and agree to
meet up later that week in Antigua.
In the morning we set out for Fraijanes, a region about 45 minutes
southeast of Guatemala City. Our importer has joined us, along with the veteran
exporter working with us on this project. The entire route to Fraijanes is both
lovely and well paved. It appears that since my last visit to Guatemala several
years ago, modernization and Americanization have definitely crept in. New gas
stations, cell phones and the occasional Chili's Grill & Bar appear in odd and
unexpected places.
We arrive at the finca, which is as beautiful as I have been told-vast,
bucolic and surprisingly lush given the recent lack of rainfall. A number of varietals
are planted based on their suitability for various sections of the farm. We have
purchased coffee from this particular finca and grower for the last three years,
and each year's offering has been excellent. Our goal for the 2001-2002 crop,
and for the next three years, is to help create a coffee that is absolutely stunning.
We are hoping for a cup that is medium-bodied, vibrant, complex, and with pleasant
fruit and chocolate notes, all delivered gracefully.
After touring the farm and viewing its wet mill, we stop at a picturesque
spot with sweeping views of the finca to discuss the cup quality we desire and
what it will take to meet these standards. We tell the exporter and grower exactly
what we are looking for in continuing improvements, and they both seem to think
this is a tall order. We make it clear that we are willing to pay if they can
deliver what we are requesting, but there is more grumbling about the low market
levels and how it will be difficult to do what we are asking. "Please tell us
what it will take," I say. "We are willing to pay to get this right." After an
hour of persuading, it finally seems to click.
Upon leaving the farm, we drive about two hours west to Antigua,
where our Fraijanes coffee has been transported and is in the final stage of hand-sorting.
We spend that evening and the next day relaxing in Antigua, and soon we are heading
back to Guatemala City for another cupping with a different coffee exporter.
This cupping table offers representative coffees from most of the
major growing regions of Guatemala, as well as some relatively unknown samples.
There are some underlying similarities shared by these coffees, but for the most
part they are profoundly different. The Huehuetanango screams with bright, citrusy
notes; the Antigua imparts a mix of wine, smoke and chocolate; the San Marcos
offers deep, sweet hazelnut; the Fraijanes has nice acidity and fruit; the Cobán
exudes over-the-top fruit; and the Jalapa yields caramel and nut. We've definitely
got some winners. The range of Guatemala's coffees always amazes me. I know of
no other place on earth that offers such diversity of quality flavors and characteristics.
We head to another cupping-our last before leaving. This will be
the first cupping of our Fraijanes coffee processed in the fashion we have requested
for the first year of our multi-year contract. First, we cup the pre-hand-sorted
coffee sample-very good, but not outstanding. Next, we cup the beans that have
been culled out as a result of the hand-sorting-I'm glad they've been picked out.
Finally, we cup the hand-sorted sample-excellent. Mission accomplished.
My five-day journey complete, I arrive at the airport with plenty
of time to spare (Geoff is staying on for a couple of days to visit the Finca
dos Marias estate in San Marcos). I stop to pick up some Gallo T-shirts for our
roasting crew, and for myself, I buy a bottle of Ron Zacapa Centenario 23 años,
Guatemala's legendary rum. I also stop at the Anacafé (the National Coffee
Association of Guatemala) store in the airport to purchase a beautiful book called
The History of Coffee in Guatemala.
As if to tempt fate, the clerk offers me what she says is a complimentary pound
of the best coffee from Fraijanes. How could she already have a pound of our coffee?
I politely decline.
About six weeks later, the arrival sample of our Fraijanes coffee
makes its way to our Chicago cupping table. Geoff calls me over, and I take a
sip. "What do you think?" he asks.
Suddenly, the reception on my tin can at the end of a string that
stretches from Fraijanes to Chicago is crystal clear. "Sweet and unforgettable,"
I say. Just like Guatemala.
Doug Zell is co-founder, owner and president
of Intelligentsia Coffee Roasters in Chicago, and he currently serves as Secretary/Treasurer
of the Specialty Coffee Association of America. He can be reached at dzell@intelligentsiacoffee.com.
|
|
This Issue: $5 U.S.
|
|
|
New to the business?
Check out our
|
|
