When I started roasting a little more
than eleven years ago, I knew that it would take some time for the
coffee and me to speak the same language. There were secrets. Lots of
secrets. And if I didn't become coffee's friend first, I knew that
getting it to reveal its secrets would be difficult. So I took it
slow.
I had a conversation with the coffee.
We got to know each other, and slowly but surely, the coffee had
something to say. The coffee gave me a little insight on how our
conversations were going. I paid attention to what the coffee was
telling me. And I knew I could improve our relationship by listening
carefully, by learning about where the coffee came from, and what
made the coffee I spoke with a little bit different. Sure there are
similarities between coffees, but learning about what makes each coffee unique is where the best relationships are formed.
And after carefully listening,
writing and reflecting upon our conversations together in my journal,
I began to understand what the coffee wanted to tell me. I knew a
trust had developed and the coffee was ready to share its innermost
thoughts.
Coffee can be brooding and
contemplative, it can also be lively and jubilant. Sometimes coffee
has a few simple ideas to share, but it's very clear in its
statements. Other times, coffee speaks poetically and whispers
softly in your waking dreams – playing the part of both devil and
angel and telling you about things you never thought possible. And
then, it will reveal its soul. These are the mysteries that must be
cherished.
Coffee can be your friend. You can't
force the coffee to be your friend. You can't bribe the coffee with
shiny equipment and expect it to tell you everything. If you treat
coffee harshly it will be bitterly disappointed. And if you try to
move the relationship too fast, the coffee will laugh at you. But if
you treat the coffee with respect, and you take the time to listen to
the coffee, then maybe the coffee will share secrets with you too.
