For a long time, I blamed the coffee.
Not myself. Not the brewer. Not anything I was doing wrong.
The coffee.
I'd put a Brazilian in my V60, follow the recipe I'd written down from some video I watched three times, and brew a cup. And it would come out bright. Acidic. Weirdly pronounced in ways that didn't make sense for a Brazilian, which is supposed to be low acid, chocolatey, easygoing.
And I'd just sit there thinking, this coffee is bad.
Not once did I ask myself: wait, is the V60 doing this? Is the filter doing this? Is it me?
I stripped myself out of the equation completely. Because someone else's recipe was the authority. And if it wasn't working, it had to be the coffee's fault.
That's where so many of us get stuck. And nobody's really talking about it.
The Recipe Was Never Yours
Here's the thing about recipes. And I mean any recipe, not just the one you saw last week from whoever.
That recipe was built for that person.
Their palate. Their water. Their brewer. Their preferences. Their history with coffee.
Did they tell you they've been brewing that specific coffee for three weeks before they hit record? Did they tell you they dilute their Third Wave Water because their tap PPM runs high? Did they tell you they actually despise chocolatey coffees and have always leaned toward bright, acidic Ethiopians? Did they tell you they brew at 205 degrees because that's just what they do, even when they don't mention it?
No. Because it's a recipe. Not a biography.
And that missing context, that's the whole problem. We take someone's shorthand and try to apply it to our completely different situation. Different water. Different gear. Different palate. Different coffee, even. And when it doesn't work, we assume we messed up.
We lose trust in ourselves. Which is the worst possible outcome.
The Coffee Has an Opinion Too
Here's something else we don't think about enough. That coffee you're brewing? It already has a character before you do anything to it.
It has high notes and low notes. Things you can pull out of it and things you probably never will. If it's a naturally bright coffee, lemony, blueberry undertones, something like a Kenyan or Ethiopian natural, how are you really going to get sweetness out of it? You can try. But that coffee is already telling you something about who it is.
And then you put it in a V60, which by design promotes clarity and acidity. You use a fast paper filter. You brew hot. And now every single thing in that chain is pulling in the same direction.
And you wonder why it tastes sharp.
The recipe didn't tell you that. It couldn't. Because whoever made the recipe wasn't thinking about your specific coffee on your specific brewer with your specific water that morning.
We have to start listening to what the coffee is actually telling us.
Cooking Already Figured This Out
There's this chef, Samin Nosrat. Her whole approach to cooking is that if you truly understand the fundamentals, salt, fat, acid, heat, what they do and why, you don't need a recipe anymore. You can make anything you want.
That's the freedom. That's the empowering part.
Coffee hasn't really had that conversation yet. We jump straight to recipes. Then gear. Buy this brewer because it'll do this for you. Try this recipe because this person made an incredible cup with it.
And we skip the part where you actually understand what you're doing and why.
You don't need a refractometer to figure this out. You don't need a distribution tool telling you microns. You can start by just smelling the coffee. Looking at it. Brewing a cup and paying attention to what you like and what you don't. Then asking yourself: what can I actually change here?
That's the whole game. It's a feedback loop. Variables going in, results coming out, and you paying attention.
Where to Actually Start
If you're newer to this: stop trying to nail someone else's recipe. Seriously. Start by figuring out which coffees you actually enjoy drinking. Not which ones you think you're supposed to like because the specialty coffee world told you so. What do you actually reach for? Low acid, chocolatey, easy? Or bright, fruity, complex? Start there. Then pick one brewer. One variable at a time. What happens when you go a little coarser on the grind? What happens when you drop the temperature? Stay curious about one thing until you understand it before you chase the next thing.
If you've been doing this a while: when a coffee isn't working for you, stop blaming the coffee first. Instead, ask yourself where in your fundamentals you might have a gap. Is it water? Is it that your brewer naturally highlights acidity and you keep using it with an already bright coffee? Is it that you're following a 1:15 ratio (about 1 gram of coffee to every 15 grams of water) when this particular coffee actually wants to be brewed at 1:12 because it needs that extra density to open up? Pinpoint it. Figure out what you don't understand yet. That's where the growth is.
Fuck the Recipe. Here's What Actually Matters.
Look yourself in the mirror and ask: what do I actually like in coffee? Why do I like it? What do I know about how to get there?
Start there. Not with someone else's ratio. Not with whatever 15-step pour technique just dropped on YouTube. With you.
Because once you know yourself, other people's recipes become useful starting points instead of gospel you're afraid to deviate from. You'll hear a recipe and think, okay, but I know I like lower acidity, so I'm going to adjust this. Or, I know my water runs hard, so I need to dilute this down.
You'll be in the driver's seat. That's where you should have been the whole time.
The recipe was never the destination. It was just someone else's shortcut.
You don't need their shortcut. You need your own understanding.
And once you have that, you can make great coffee out of almost anything. Including gear that isn't perfect. Including a bag that isn't the most expensive one on the shelf. Including a recipe you threw out halfway through because you knew better.
That's the goal. That's what this whole thing is about.
Your Turn
What's one thing in your coffee that you've been blaming on the recipe or the gear that might actually be about not knowing what you like yet?
Or flip it: what's something you figured out about your own preferences that changed everything for you?
Hit reply and tell me.
Oke
"Just keep reading. I've got you."

Here's to the journey. Yours and mine.
