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Mmmm, mmm. There is nothing like a lukewarm cup of charcoal to start the day. Truthfully, I do sometimes have yen for  coffee that is a little on the dark roast charcoal side. When this craving occurs, I usually take out some of the Aged sumatra grade one lintong or even the Monsooned Malabar that I have in my stash and roast some up. Lately however, I have not been yearning for  smoky, dark almost licorice like taste that these two coffee beans offer  when roasted past that second crack.

I was certainly not looking for it when I decided to roast up some Yemen Mokha Sareshi the other day either. But, thanks to my lack of diligence, that is precisely what I got. I did set the time on the roaster for 25 minutes in order to get a slightly darker roast, but I was planning to watch the progress and hit the cool button once the beans got to a nice full city darkness. However, I ended up falling sway to the siren call of the Internet and the beans roasted the full 25 without my direct supervision. This in itself would of been forgivable, since 25 was what I was shooting for anyway, but what was not forgivable was the way I let the beans sit around in the hot roasting chamber for around 20 minutes as I tooled around.

While it is ok to wait a little bit for the glass chamber of the Nesco to cool before you remove the beans from it, it is stll important to get them out of there as soon as possible. I generally do this immediately since I have callused paws that can withstand a lot of heat. If you end up leaving the beans sitting in the chamber, they will keep on cooking and your full city roast could end up being a full blown vienna.  This is exactly what happened to the Yemen Mokha.  I was expecting a nice dark brown bean, but instead got a shiny black bean.

As I daid earlier, there are times that I crave the flavor that the darker roasts brings in a bean, but this was not the time. This dark Yemen roast had a flavor very much akin to the aged sumatra, with a sharp licorice anise taste along with a powdery finish. I did force myself to finish up the batch, to teach myself a lesson, but I sure did not enjoy it as much as I would have a lighter roast. Next time I cook up some of the Yemen, I promise you that I will pay attention and not get lost online.

After experimenting with the Ethiopian Koratie dry and wet Processes and deciding that I like my coffee a little dirty as opposed to clean, I decided to give another Ethiopian Dry Processed coffee bean a try. This one hails from Dale Yirga Alem and it is certified Organic. Now, it would be nice and politically correct to say that organic coffee always tastes better than the stuff that has been chemically fertilized, but that is not really the case. I have tasted way too many great non-organic coffees as well as a few too many sub par organic ones to really jump on the everything organic bandwagon. Actually, when it comes to coffee, I tend to be a bit leery of the Organic label because of the several bad taste experiences that I have had.

So anyways, I decided to get the Ethiopian Organic DP-Dale Yirga Alem from Sweet Maria’s not because it was organic, but rather because it was an Ethiopian Dry Process. Speaking of dry process, since some of the dried pulp remains intact on the bean after the cleaning process, perhaps it is better if the cherries had not been sprayed with chemical fertilizers after all. Not that there is really any chance of chemical residue actually making through the entire cleaning and roasting process anyway, still it is nice to be extra safe.

So anyway anyways, I roasted this coffee a little on the light side, since label suggests “amazing ripe fruit, nectarine, plum and berry. Spicey accents and intense aromatics” if I did so. I mean with a description like that, I would be nuts not to roast it light.I got a nice city plus to full city roast  out of it using the 23 minute setting of my little Nesco Roaster and making sure to remove the beans from the hot glass roasting chamber as soon as the cooling cycle stopped (thankfully I have callused hands which are hard to burn). I let this coffee sit for a few days before giving it a try.

Lo and behold, this coffee, is hands down, the best of the trio  of coffees that I had recently purchased from Sweet Marias and I think it may even rank up there in my top twenty list. It does have a real intese ripe fruit accent to it, followed by a clean earthy bitter aftertaste that can only be described as “organic”. Hooray for the organics, I finally found one that has won me over.

” Wow man that is the darkest coffee I have ever seen,” commented the new guy at work as I pulled out my little ziplock baggy full of pre-ground Yemen Mokha Sharasi that I had roasted two day prior.

“Yeah,” I replied as nonchalantly as possible, hoping to contain my excitement that somebody at my “day job” might actually be interested in my little coffee obsession. ” I kind of got it a little too dark this time, because I left it sitting in the roasting chamber a bit too long as I was tooling around on my computer.”

“Wow man, you roast your own coffee?” He asked in his stonified so-cal accent.

“Yeah, my girlfriend got me a little Nesco coffee roaster last christmas, and I have been going nuts ever since.” I replied, still hoping I do not sound too much like the coffee fanatic that I areally am. “Its really fun, and the coffee usually tastes better.” I added  wondering if maybe I should pull back a little, lest he actually wanted me to brew him a cup of my limited take to work supply.

“Thats cool man, my mother is  really into gourmet coffee too and I kinda got into it because of her.” He said as he watched me pour my precious, if not a little too dark grounds into my little bodum single cup drip coffee maker. “Did you ever try blue mountain?”

“Jamaican blue mountain? Yeah that stuff is pretty good, if you can get it fresh,’ I replied, hoping I did not sound like too much of a coffee snob as I poured some hot water into the top of my little coffee maker. Jamacain Blue Mountain is great coffee, but almost impossible to get fresh, it is also perhaps a bit overhyped, but I decided not to start yapping about it, lest I alienate the new guy.  So instead, I decided to bring up Kopi Luwak, for the sake of conversation…

“Man, I don’t think I could ever bring myself to drink anything that came out of some animal’s butt” was his reply.

“Well they do wash it off, but I can understand where you are coming from,” I said as I took a first tentative sip of the Yemen Mokha. I had let this roast sit way too long in the hot glass roasting chamber after it had finished and it it had got overly dark on me. Dang distracting Internet! The taste was a little rustic and charcoal like for me. “I don’t think I could ever bring myself to plop down 150 bucks for a pund of it anyway,” I continued as I tried my best to enjoy my coffee, ” but, I have tried Jacu bird coffee, which came from a bird’s butt.”

“Ewww..”

“Actually, it was pretty good,had a real nice peppermint aftertaste.”  I commented, wishing I had some tasty Jacu bird coffee at the moment, instead of the burnt swill that I has drinking.

Where was I?

Oh yeah…

I took a sip….

And to my surprise it tasted rather good in a unique sort of way.  Its taste reminded me of the aged sumatra with its tobacco licorice mustiness and charcoal chocolate undertones. After several more cups I knew that this roast was probably something I wold tire of quickly, but it definitely had enough character to keep me interested for now. This coffee was the complete opposite of “clean” and “bright”. It was dark and brooding and chocked full of body.

The next day I decided to blend it in with some remaining Tanzanian Blackburn Estate AA (review of this coffee coming soon)  and found that the two complimented each other very well. I think that the Monsooned Malabar is great for adding another dimension to a blend, but I think too much of it will end up overpowering any other tastes in the cup. I made a mental note to do some more experimenting with it later on.

A few days later…

I roasted some more of the bean to the darkest level that my little Nesco would allow but this time I made sure that I paid attention to its progress and that all the seals were properly intact. I ended up getting essntially the same roast, except perhaps a wee bit darker. I brewed myself a nice fat pot of it and did some more pondering. I realised that I had indeed grown a bit weary of the overpowering musty taste and I could not really finish up the batch without blending it into something else.

I still got a about a half a pound left of the marshmallow Monsooned Malabar left unroasted and I think I might try it a little lighter next time. Perhaps the taste would not be as overpowering at full city or full city plus as it is at french. Whatever the case, I will be sure to let you all know.

Instead of just eyeballing it, I should have used the new postage scale that I had recently gotoff of E-Bay. If I had, I would have realized that I had not put in enough , even for a really dark roast. These India Monsooned Malabar are some big friggin beans. If coffee beans played  professional sports, these guys would make excellent defensive linemen. Hang on, cancel that. They are not very dense, they just take up a lot of space so they would probably not make really effective lineman although Matt Millen might still be interested. A pound of the India Monsooned Malabar AA comes in a bigger bag, yet ounce for ounce it weighs the same.

I should have realized this as I filled up the Nesco, stopping at the Dark Roast line. Something told me I should be adding more, but I shooed the errant thought way like like it was a buzzing mind fly and stuck to my plan. I cranked the Nesco up to 30 minutes, pushed start and went back to washing the dishes. The notes on the bag, as well as the Sweet Maria’s website call for this bean to be roasted dark as dark can be. So, I figured I better get it as dark as I can get it. Or, at least as dark as my little Nesco can get it before my smoke detector starts beeping because of all the CO2. I thought I was roasting around 3.5 ounces, that being the average weight of the beans when the Nesco roasting chamber is Filled to the Dark Roast Line. But alas, while my intuitive self conscious had picked up on the difference in volume concerning the Mosooned Malabar and its marshmallow like consistency and had tried to prod me into doing the smart thing, I did not listen to it.

I had let in run for about 20 minutes when the kitchen began to really reek of roasting coffee. I thought maybe the Nesco was leaking, which it was,  ( I think I need to replace the seals), but I also noticed that the beans were already pretty dark. According to the little postcard roast chart that I had got with my last purchase from SM they were past dark roast. Yet, I had not heard the second crack and the beans did not look like they were expanding any more. Still they looked burnt already and sometimes this happens when I try to roast less than 3 ounces, for more than 20 minutes. I then remembered what my intuition was trying to say to  me twenty minutes before and decided to weigh the remaining beans. Sure enough I had only used about two and a half ounces. Curses! Why did I not listen to my guts and did some weighing. I was roasting a lot less by volume than I had originally thought, causing the roast to heat up  and get dark real quick.  Crap.

I rushed to the Nesco and placed my finger on the cool button, getting ready to hit the panic button. Then I paused. My guts were speaking up again, and this time I listened. “Hold off dude,” it was saying . I looked at the beans, while they were dark as heck, they had not really blown up. I looked closer, while they were pretty black, they still kind of lacked the glossy finish that a french roasted bean takes on. Something told me to let go a little further. Damn the smoke alarm, lets cook these suckers.

I let the roaster run its course and prayed that something good was happening.  I put the beans in a jar. They smelt funny, worsening my fear that I had made a serious boo boo.  Yet there was something intriguing about them. A certain je nais sais qui that told me that this bean is different. The next I brewed up a batch in my chemex and poured some into my Grand canyon coffee cup.

I took a sip…

I guess that there is no need to justify myself. I knew I was going to go through with it all along. Besides, it is not like buying an pound of coffee for eighteen bucks is going to break me. Heck, if you break it down by the cup, I am still getting off pretty dang cheap. Let me see here, I get around 16 venti’s per pound of homeroast and figuring that I pay around two bucks for a Starbucks…Umm lets see, I guess I am getting some super primo coffee at about half the cost still. Not too bad. I mean sure, most of the beans I buy run around 6 bucks a pound, one third of the cost of the Panama Esmeralda Gesha lot #10, but then again at 18 bucks, lot #10 is  still a heckuva lot cheaper then the  two above it which run 66 and 122 bucks a pound repectively. Well, enough of all this number throwing. Lets get down to meat and potatoes of this blog entry: how the stuff tastes.

I roasted my first batch of the #10 for 24 minutes in my Nesco roaster, 24 is the average time I like to start a new batch of beans off on and then tweak it from there. I heard the first initial cracks around the 12 minute mark and the second ones were starting up once the five minute cooling cycle kicked in. I got a nice uniform full city roast that was smelling pretty good. Already knowing that the Gesha tastes better when allowed to sit around for a few days, I resisted making any the next day, resorting to some  over roasted Koratie wet Process that I really should have just tossed.

On day two however, I could wait no longer and brewed up a big pot of the stuff in the Chemex. I think I was perhaps a bit too tired that morning, and I ended up making some really strong coffee. Well it did cause me to wake up and say “good morning America!”, I think that taste wise, it was a bit too concentrated to pick up on any little subtleties that would cause my eyeballs to pop and me to  say “damn, this is one great cup of coffee!” The next day, I was a little bit more conservative with my beans and my grind, and got a much better cup. This coffee is extremely smooth and has a distinct aftertaste that reminded me of sucking on a Werther’s candy.

On day four, I decided to brew up the remaining beans in my French Press in liue of the Chemex. This was the best coffee yet from this moderately pricey bean. Perhaps, it because I have been French Pressing for a long time now, and brewing a great cup this way has become second nature. Or maybe,  a four day rest was what this bean needed to reach its peak flavor. What ever the case is, my eyeballs did pop and I thought to myself, ” damn! this is some good frickin coffee.”

So in conclusion, I guess the Gesha lot #10 is worth the 18 bucks I plopped down for it. Just to be sure however, I am going to really tweak around with the other two bacthes I have left to roast from the pound I bought. At 18 bucks a pound, I am not looking for a orgasmic experience ( I would expect that at the $120 range though ) but I do expect my eyeballs to pop a bit. I guess we will see.

Being down to the nitty gritty, as I eagerly await the latest additions to my, Ahem, stash (which I will pick up later today), I decided to do a little blending with the final remnants of the remaining beans. Usually when I finish up a pounder of  coffee beans, I am left with a couple of remaining ounces. When I try to roast an amount this small in my Nesco, I usually end up blazing it to an oblivion which doesn’t stop me from trying to drink it.  Instead of forcing myself to down these charcoal concoctions,  I have learned blend these remnants with each other.

I had three ounces of the Ethiopian Koratie Wet process left over along with two ounces of the Panamanian Esmeralda Gesha lot number 5. Both beans on their own, had panned out “ok” for me, but had not evolved into anything spectacular. Perhaps, I thought to myself, if put together they would become something. The nutty smoothness of the Gesha just might compliment the fruity tooty tang of the WP Koratie. I decided on a nice mellow full roast, getting the beans to a nice dark tan at around 23 minutes. I let the beans rest for a bit and then brewed some up in my Chemex carafe. The result was a pretty good coffe that is both bitter yet sour, like a wheat beer with a slice of lemon. It dried my mouth a bit, yet had a memorable taste.

I wouldn’t say that I really stumbled upon anything spectacular in my little experiment, but I do think that I did learn a few things. I have perused charts in coffee books and have read up on the internet about the art of blending, but none of it really sticks. I think I gain more from my own casual monkeying around with the different beans that I could ever get from some book.

coffee cup collection pic 2

I guess I am always doing this. I try some new coffee that I get and intially find it lacking only to turn around and end up liking it. Perhaps the taste just grows on me, or maybe I just happen to find that sweet spot within the roast. I really do not know. My initial thoughts on the Panamanian Esmeralda Gesha Auction lot #5 was that it was lacking character and was  not worth the inflated asking price.  Well, as I said in my last blog about this particular bean, I still had one more batch to determine whether I this stuff was worth revisiting.

Well, as you can probably guess from the tone of this blog, After this last batch, I once again changed my mind on this coffee. I roasted it for a minute less this time, then let it rest a full day before indulging. Yesterday morning,  this cup just blew me away. The taste was still subtle, a bit nutty, a little creamy, yet now there was something else, something more complex beneath the nuttiness that slapped at my taste buds and made me want more. It was the same thing this morning. I brewed the remaining beans in my chemex and was rewarded with another pot of primo coffee. Whatever it was that I did, I had definitely hit the sweet spot on roast number three and now I am regretting that it was the last of the stuff.

I now plan to give the next level of the Gesha (lot number 10) a  shot when I add to my stash next week. I can now justify spending the 18 bucks after this experience. Hopefully I will not be disappointed until the last batch like I was  with lot number 5. Who knows I might even like it so much that I will end up cashing in a few stocks and and invest in a pound of the 125 dollar a pound stuff.

This morning I brewed myself a carafe of the Aged Sumatra Grade One Lintong using my Chemex brewer.  It has been a while since I tried the Aged Sumatra, and my taste buds had completely forgotten how wonderful this bean is, especially roasted dark. I gave myself a nice little pat on the back for being a little greedy and not sending all of the Sumatra away to friends and family like I had originally intended. As much as I like this coffee, I also tire of it after a couple of pots and need to switch to something else for a while. It has a unique tobacco tinge to it that makes it feel like you are smoking a fine cigar whilst drinking it. Since I quit smoking, this is the closest thing to enjoying my morning coffee and cigarettes. Incidently, i not sure if I mentioned this before, but researches now belief that having coffee with your cigarettes actually helps prevent some types of bladder cancer. Too bad it does not help against lung cancer too.

Anyway, I guess I will have to send my buddy some of the Ethiopian Koratie instead since I think I plan on keeping the rest of my Sumatra for myself.  Also, I blended the sumatra  with the remaining Gesha and got a really good cup .  I might try a little more experimenting with this and let you all know.

Thinking that it might of been the short roasting time that left me feeling unsatisfied with the taste of the wet processed Ethopian Koratie,  I decided to extend the time on the next batch by a couple of minutes. This time, I roasted it for 22 minutes in the Nesco, getting a slightly darker bean color the last bunch. This improved the overall taste by a few degrees, but the change was nowhere near dramatic. The wet tasted nice, clean and bright, like a South American, but was still lacking any sort of complexity that I personally look for in my morning cup of the old go go juice.  This bean would probably be a good as part of breakfast blend, especially if paired with something a little bit hardier.

As for the dry processed koratie, I roasted the next batch exactly likely the first one, knowing that I had already found its sweet spot and intending to stick to it. I roasted it for just over 24 minutes, pushing the cooling cycle on just as I heard the second crack. This batch turned out even better then the last one. The tangy blueberry aftertaste was even more reminiscent of the Anohki, and the rst of the cup just oozed character. I made a mental note to stock up on a few more pounds of the stuff so that I might be able to send some to a few friends to see what they think.

In conclusion, while I prefer the Ethopian koratie dry process to a much greater degree, I can see why maybe some coffee nuts might prefer the wet. I know there are coffee people out there in which the perfect cup is clean, bright and conventional like the wet. However, I am certainly not a conventionalist. I prefer a cup with a little bit of character, perhaps even a smidgen of craziness. Give me the dry anytime.