The roaster who hates his own coffee

I'm a roaster.

Which means I'm supposed to tell you that this Nicaraguan coffee I roasted is amazing. That it's going to change your morning routine. That the organic, strictly high grown beans are worth every penny.

I'm supposed to walk you through the tasting notes. Cherry, not strawberry. Chocolate up front, then red fruit that comes back in the aftertaste. Clean. Smooth. Not offensive whatsoever.

I'm supposed to give you brewing tips. Use this filter, try this grinder, dial in your water chemistry just right.

That's my job.

But here's the thing I need to tell you.

I hate this coffee.

Not in a "it's terrible" way. In a "it does absolutely nothing for me" way.

And that's the most important thing I can teach you about coffee today.

The Professional's Dilemma

I roasted this coffee two and a half weeks ago.

When I pulled it out of the sack, I didn't see any defects. No sand. No little pebbles. Nothing. European prepared, which means it's extremely clean. Good for roasting. Good for anybody who wants whole beans without worrying about quality control.

It shocked me. I thought, okay, we're going on a good ride with this one.

I roasted a batch at light to medium. Another batch lighter. Even did one darker a couple days ago. I haven’t tried that one. Hopefully it’s better than these two.

And I've tried everything with these beans. Everything.

V60 with regular filters. Origami dripper with Kalita Wave filters. Fast filters, slow filters, boosters, no boosters. Different grinders. I played with water chemistry, 100 PPM, tried Third Wave water packets.

I manipulated this coffee every way I know how.

And you know what?

It's boring. Clinically perfect with no real personality.

Like a lens that's technically flawless but doesn't actually create anything interesting.

It's weird I'm saying all this because I'm a roaster. I'm supposed to be selling you on this. Telling you it's great, it's amazing. These are the notes you're going to get. These are the things you're going to taste and experience.

Brew it this way. Don't go too fast. Use a fast filter. Pay attention. Drink it quickly.

But it doesn't matter. At least to me.

And that's what I want to talk about.

What I'm Supposed To Know

Here's the thing about being a roaster who's deep into brewing.

I understand manipulation.

And I never really thought about that word as much as I think about it now when it comes to coffee. But essentially, that's what we're doing when we brew.

We're trying to bend coffee to the way we want it to be.

The personality is already intact from growing to processing to roasting. But after the coffee is roasted and you're presented with this bean, it's yours.

And I have all the tools to make it work.

I can choose a flat bed brewer like the April brewer to bring out sweetness. Or a cone-shaped filter brewer like the V60 for more acidity and clarity. Or push it to the extreme with something like the Deep 27.

The device alone can make coffee sweeter or more acidic.

Then the paper filters. That can dictate flavor. How fine or coarse I grind. How I bring that out in the coffee.

The grinders. Some have more fines, giving you a more textured cup. Or I can use a ZP6 where it's clear as day. Subtle, but it's there.

And then there's water. Higher PPM usually brings out sweetness, but push it too much and it becomes too mineralized. Or just use spring water, which hits the right sweet spot for lightly roasted coffees. But try it on any coffee that you have and see what it does for you.

I know all of this. Professionally. I roast coffee. I understand how beans develop. I know what variables do what.

I used to get frustrated when I would roast coffee, wait a couple weeks, and then start drinking it and never be happy. Never satisfied. Never content with what the beans were presenting me.

I kept thinking: did I mess up the roast? Did I do something wrong?

But then I realized I didn't know enough about brewing. I wasn't objective enough.

It had little to actually do with the coffee. It had more to do with me understanding how the beans and the water and my technique interacted with each other.

So I learned. I got educated. I understood the toolbox.

And now I can manipulate. I can bend. I can massage. I can coax out the flavors I want from coffee.

Most of the time.

When The Tools Don't Matter

Which brings me back to this Nicaraguan.

I know what I'm doing now. I have the professional knowledge. I have the tools. I have the experience.

And I still don't like this coffee.

It has that chocolatey taste initially. Then when it dies down, it has this red fruit type of taste. Cherry-like. The acidity comes and goes and comes back. It's kind of weird.

It's like the Brazilian I usually roast, but it's not. It has a little bit more fruitiness on it. But it's tamed. I don't know if I'm explaining it correctly.

But at the end of the day, I'm not jelling with it.

I pushed it. I massaged it. I manipulated this coffee with everything I know as a roaster and a brewer.

Same type of profile every time. Smooth. Not offensive. Technically fine.

And I still don't like it.

It doesn't get better as it cools. It was better when it was hot. Probably would be a decent espresso to bring out more of that fruity essence.

But as filter coffee? It's boring to me.

The Lesson Nobody Talks About

As much as I drink these coffees and try to understand them, I see it for what it is.

And here's where it gets interesting now that I'm on this side, where I can roast these coffees and present them to people.

I can lie to you. I can tell you that this coffee is great for this or that.

But that's not the point here.

The point is, we're not going to gel with everything we drink. Even when we're the ones roasting it. Even when we have all the professional knowledge. Even when we understand exactly what we're doing.

We're going to have those duds. We're going to have those coffees where we're ready to move on. We can't wait to see what else is around that horizon.

And I think one of the biggest things I'm trying to take away with all of this is: what did I learn from this?

Because the way it is, it is what it is. It's fine. It works.

But it's not exciting.

Does this Nicaraguan work for me? Probably not in this sense. It's been two and a half weeks. I think that's long enough.

I tried it all. I tried fast filters, slow filters, with boosters, with no boosters, different grinders.

It's perfectly fine for me to realize that coffee is going to be coffee. It's going to do the things that it wants to do, no matter what.

We have to be there. We have to accept that.

We're not going to be able to conquer everything the way we want to. Bring out the best flavors the way we want to.

Even with all the knowledge in the world.

What Expertise Actually Means

The other day I was talking about manipulation. How you can coax and bring out different things in coffee.

Change the paper filter, change the shape, play around with water, look at your technique. Switch grinders for more clarity.

And you can. You absolutely can.

But it still might suck to you.

It just sucks. That's it.

You would think with "strictly high grown" and "organic" and "European prepared" that you're about to go on this magical ride.

And when you taste it, it's okay.

I can sell you on that. I can tell you organic makes it better. I can tell you the way they prepare it for the European market is a good thing, which it actually is.

But at the end of the day, if I roast it, if I don't roast it, I'm the consumer. I'm the drinker. I'm the person trying to really get it.

And if I understand it but still don't get it, that's fine.

Move on.

See what else is out there.

Because here's what I've learned: manipulation, all that professional knowledge, all those tools in the toolbox, they only come into play when we're willing to learn. When we're willing to push past our comfort zones.

And then we become magicians on most occasions.

We can taste it, experience it, see it for what it is. And then we go to work.

But the other part of mastering coffee, the part nobody talks about, is knowing when to stop.

Knowing when you've tried all the tricks of the trade and it still doesn't work.

That's expertise too.

Both Things Can Be True

You do play a big part in brewing.

You can manipulate. You can change. You can bring out different flavors because of your understanding.

Nine times out of ten when you're frustrated with coffee, it is you. You messed something up. You didn't understand your tools.

But also, some coffees just aren't going to work for you.

And knowing that, accepting that, that's part of understanding coffee too.

It's interesting. As much as I know about coffee, as a roaster, as someone who manipulates these beans professionally, it really comes down to me.

It comes down to you. It comes down to us understanding what we want from coffee.

And if we don't get the results we want, sometimes it's because we don't truly understand the things we can do in our toolbox.

But sometimes, it's because that coffee is just like that.

It is what it is.

This is me talking crap about my own coffee. Just being honest. Just letting you know that sometimes it's still not going to work.

For you. It may be perfectly fine for others.

I know there will probably be people who will like this Nicaraguan. Who may see it for what it is and be happy with this particular coffee.

That's perfect. That's fine.

But for me? I understand it. And I still don't get it.

And I'm okay with that.

Your Turn

So here's what I want to ask you:

Have you ever been really good at something and still not liked parts of it?

In coffee, in your job, in anything?

Where you have all the knowledge, all the tools, all the expertise, and something still just doesn't connect?

Because I think that's what real expertise looks like. Not loving everything in your domain. Not forcing yourself to appreciate something just because you "should."

Real expertise is knowing your palate. Knowing your preferences. Knowing when to walk away.

Hit reply and tell me: What's something you're "supposed" to like in your field but honestly don't? Or what's a coffee that technically should work for you but just doesn't?

Because I'm pretty sure with this Nicaraguan, it's not me.

It's the coffee.

And I had to try everything first to know that for sure.

Oke