Coffees are becoming increasingly complex. Experimental fermentation practices are producing new flavors that we have never encountered in coffee before. We humans are taking a hands-on approach, adding things to coffee that wouldn't otherwise be there. Where is this journey heading for producers, roasters, and consumers?
Part 1: Challenges
Sensory analysis: How do we evaluate these coffees?
Developments on the coffee production side are, at times, rapid. We hear about anaerobic fermentations, double barrel fermentations, and carbonic macerations. While they all sound interesting, these are terms heavily borrowed from winemaking. Sometimes these names even sound quite artistic. This seems to provide an opportunity for producers to make a name for themselves with an original name. We explain exactly what fermentation means in coffee in this detailed article.
This entire development is certainly very interesting from a sensory perspective – suddenly we are finding flavors of cherry liqueur and violets; they are heavy, boozy coffees, highly fermented, without drifting into the vinegar realm. These are new flavor fields that are only just beginning to emerge. A few years ago, I tasted a coffee for which the official cupping score sheet simply no longer seemed appropriate.
The coffee offered far more than I could express using an evaluation form. The aromas were so diverse; I had never encountered such a coffee before. It was a multi-dimensional coffee that I couldn't compare to anything in my sensory repertoire.
I scored it at 93 points. But here I clearly distinguish between a professional and a subjective evaluation – I rated it highly to the best of my knowledge, belief, and cupping experience.
My subjective evaluation, however, was quite different – did I like the coffee? No. I don't want to drink it again. There was simply too much flavor packed into too little space. However, I am convinced that there is a market for these coffees. I just don't think it's really in Europe.
Roasting: how do we roast these coffees?
Now, coffee roasters are increasingly coming into contact with these coffees. We are too. On our own farm in Nicaragua, we are conducting a number of fermentation experiments and documenting them scientifically. The flavor notes we can achieve this way are sometimes truly absurd. In a positive sense.
However, we are also noticing that we have to roast these coffees a bit differently. Some of these coffees are absolutely bursting with aromas. It would be a shame to drown them in a more developed, darker roast. We almost always choose filter coffee for this type of green coffee.
Roasting these coffees requires a great deal of intuition to find the right roast profile. The aroma is intense and should be preserved, but the acidity is also often very intense, so a bit more balance is needed without compromising the flavors. I would also like to encourage all other roasters to try something new here, perhaps even to leave the beaten path of roasting and try something different.
The progress on the production and fermentation side is enormous. I don't see that as strongly on the roaster side yet. I also wonder if our way of roasting is the right one to do justice to such coffees at all?
Enjoyment. Are these coffees a pleasure or an expansion of horizons?
I have the feeling that I am becoming—forgive me—mellow with age. I notice how these coffees interest me technically and challenge me sensorially, but leave me somewhat cold gustatorily.
Recently, a friend—who at his age is surely mellowing as well—said that this seemed similar to him to the Chardonnays from the US in the 90s.
Lots of texture, lots of aroma, lots of everything, but little character of its own.
a mellow coffee lover
He found it difficult to find pleasure in it. He likes lean wines, elegant, distinct. I understand him. That's how I understand coffee. Personally, I like elegant coffees, often tea-like, with limited complexity but high clarity. These are coffees that I can wonderfully enjoy. The «novel coffees» (oh dear, I really am getting old) challenge me anew every time. I can't enjoy them yet, but maybe that will come.
2. Opportunities
Anyone who has been able to taste such coffees must show a little openness, because they taste different. You can simply scoff at that and enjoy coffee that tastes more familiar. You can dismiss this as a «gimmick,» «new-fangled stuff,» or a «trend»—I've heard it all in recent months. Or, we can show a little more openness and take a closer look at who is actually making these coffees.
A post from a renowned cupper from Costa Rica recently irritated me a bit. He scoffed, as described above, about these
«trendy cinnamon-fruit bombs,» saying that this is no longer coffee. He prefers the crystal-clear, juicy, and naturally fruity coffees from Tarrazu—which is one of the highest-altitude growing regions in Costa Rica.
Cupper from Costa Rica
And here lies the problem. Not all producers have a finca at nearly 2,000 meters above sea level. The majority do not. The majority are far below that and produce coffee for a market that often cannot cover production costs. Another market channel could provide a remedy. One that is looking for extreme flavors.
With extreme fermentations, we create extreme flavors—and even at 800 meters above sea level. Of course, you can't just use any raw material; a great green coffee only emerges at the end from well-sorted, ideally very ripe cherries. But the altitude at which coffee is grown could suddenly be relativized.
And that is a huge opportunity for all producers who haven't hit the jackpot of a high-altitude finca, but who, like most coffee farmers, are still in the sensory mediocrity.
3. Risks
«For they know (not) what they do»
Highly fermented and delicious coffees don't just happen. They are not a product of chance, but the result of a precise, controlled, and intentional post-harvest process.
We often hear about «over-fermentation» when something tastes heavily fermented. We do not agree with this. Either something is fermented in a controlled way, or it isn't. Lucia Solis recently made the comparison in a podcast to a pregnant woman—either a woman is pregnant, or she isn't. But she isn't a little bit pregnant, or too pregnant. Rather, she is, or she isn't. Just like coffee that has been fermented, or not.
«Over-fermented» carries a clear subjective note and historically stems from the fact that uncontrollably fermented coffees were often labeled this way. Coffees that smell and taste like vinegar, leather, rotten fruit, etc. Those are defects. And they are the product of an uncontrolled fermentation, not an over-fermentation.
These «modern» flavor profiles tend toward strong, lush fruit notes, often with heavy floral aromas. They remind me of an old lady's perfume.
Creating such a profile requires a great deal of knowledge. The know-how must be present; otherwise, it won't go well and the coffee will ferment uncontrollably. Producers who know what they are doing always take extreme paths and create even more intense flavor profiles.
Producers who have heard about it and are now trying something out take a pretty high risk of not doing many things quite correctly. This can lead to uncontrolled fermentations.
The pH value, the temperature, the available sugar, the presence of air, the headspace in a closed container, the agitation, the temperature development, etc.—these are all factors that must be considered in such a fermentation. Otherwise, it quickly becomes leathery, vinegar-like, and smelly.
Copy-paste. Will all coffees soon taste the same?
We are lucky enough to be able to taste a lot of different coffees. If we don't order samples ourselves, we get them sent to us. Often, these include such intensive fermentation coffees. This broadens the sensory horizon.
The problem here, however, is that I remember a general flavor profile much more than unique, characteristic quirks.
A coffee from Flores, Indonesia, was recently on the table next to a coffee from Colombia, and both tasted suspiciously similar. The post-harvest process was such that the cherries first spent 6 days in a barrel without air before being dried as naturals for more than 25 days.
This intense process brought out such similar notes in both coffees that I almost confused them. The Colombian tasted like the Indonesian.
«Is that tragic now?» some might ask. Perhaps this is the way of things. Others, however, see here the «loss of terroir» and perhaps pine for profiles that were standard 20 years ago, but are increasingly receding today due to socio-economic, botanical, and climatic conditions.
I am neither a terroirist, someone who searches for «terroir» in coffee. Anyone who knows me a little better knows how much I am at odds with this term. Nor am I someone who blindly follows new phenomena. I see myself as a bystander in this discussion, because:
Is it up to us roasters to decide what coffee producers should produce and ferment?
Would anyone tell a winemaker which profile to expand and which to leave alone?
I don't think so.
I believe rather that for once the «free market» of sensory preferences will decide here. What catches on is decided by coffee drinkers, and that is roasters and coffee drinkers alike. It should simply be far from us to dismiss these new developments as a «trend»—that would likely be too short-sighted.
Are these coffees safe to consume?
Intensive fermentation notes come from an intensive fermentation. Countless microbes and yeasts degrade sugar, cause acids to rise, and the pH value to drop. Yeasts eventually retreat and the bacteria take over. In some cases, mold covers the semi-dried cherry before it is dried in the shade for over 30 days.
It is a hodgepodge of life.
I am not a biologist and also not a health expert. And that is precisely why I have to ask this question—are these coffees safe for health? If so, are there studies on it?
Roasting kills harmful bacteria in coffee. However, should coffees be infested with mold, the risk increases—aflatoxins, mycotoxins found in mold, cannot be completely eliminated even by roasting and remain potentially carcinogenic.
Who can help here? Who knows someone who knows if intensively fermented coffees can potentially pose a health risk?
Conclusion
It is far too early for me to draw a conclusion. We are just at the beginning of this new era in which coffees from Colombia taste like those from Flores, in which coffees remind us in their aroma of heavy old-lady perfumes, in which we have to realign our sensory benchmarks once again.
What are your experiences with these coffees? We are looking forward to your feedback and are open to learning much more.
