Coffees are tasting increasingly complex. Experimental fermentation practices are creating new flavors we haven't been able to find in coffee before. We humans are getting our hands dirty and adding something to the coffee that wouldn't otherwise be there. Where is this journey leading producers, roasters, and consumers?
Part 1: Challenges
Sensory analysis: How do we evaluate these coffees?
Developments in coffee production are, in some cases, rapid. We hear about anaerobic fermentations , double barrel fermentations , and carbonic macerations . What all sound interesting are names that are strongly reminiscent of winemaking. Sometimes these names even sound quite artistic. This seems to offer producers an opportunity to make a name for themselves with an original name. We'll explain exactly what fermentation in coffee is in this detailed article.
This whole development is certainly very interesting from a sensory perspective—suddenly we're discovering flavors of cherry liqueur and violets; these are heavy, crisp coffees, heavily fermented without drifting into the vinegary part. These are new flavor areas that are 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 much more than I could have expressed on a rating sheet. The aromas were so diverse; I'd never tasted a coffee like it before. It was a multidimensional coffee that I couldn't compare to anything in my sensory repertoire.
I rated it 93 points. However, I clearly distinguish between a professional and a subjective assessment—I rated it highly based on my best knowledge and belief, as well as my cupping experience.
My subjective assessment, however, was completely different – did I like the coffee? No. I wouldn't drink it again. There was simply too much flavor in too little space. But I'm convinced there's a market for these coffees. I just don't think they're available 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 conduct numerous fermentation experiments and monitor them scientifically . The flavors we can create are sometimes truly absurd. In a positive way.
Now we're also realizing that we need to roast these coffees a little differently. Some of these coffees are bursting with flavor. It would be a shame to drown them in a more developed, darker roast. We almost always opt for filter coffees with this type of green coffee.
Roasting these coffees requires a great deal of sensitivity to find the right roast profile. The aroma is intense, and that's what we want to maintain, but the acidity is often very intense as well, so a little more balance is needed without compromising the flavors. I would also like to encourage all other roasters to try something new, perhaps even to stray from their usual roasting path and try something different.
The progress on the production and fermentation side is enormous. I don't see it as much on the roasting side yet. I also wonder if our roasting method is the right one to do justice to these coffees?
Enjoy. Are these coffees a pleasure or a horizon-broadening experience?
I feel like I'm becoming a bit—forgive me—mellow with age. I notice how these coffees interest me technically and challenge me sensorially, but leave me somewhat cold gustatory.
Recently, a friend, who is certainly already mellow at his age, said that it seemed similar to the Chardonnays from the USA in the 1990s.
Lots of texture, lots of aroma, lots of everything, but little flavor of its own.
a gentle coffee lover
He finds it difficult to find pleasure in them. He prefers light-bodied wines, elegant and distinctive. 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 I can enjoy wonderfully. The "new coffees" ( oh dear, I'm really getting old ) challenge me anew every time. I can't enjoy them yet, perhaps that will come.
2. Opportunities
Anyone who has already tasted such coffees needs to be a little open-minded, because they taste different. You can simply ignore it and enjoy the coffee that tastes more familiar. You can dismiss it as a "gimmick," as "newfangled stuff," or as a "trend"—I've heard all of that in the last few months. Or, we can show a little more openness and take a closer look at who makes these coffees.
A post by a renowned cupper from Costa Rica recently irritated me somewhat. As described above, he sneered at these
"Trendy cinnamon fruit bombs" are no longer coffee. He prefers the crystal-clear, juicy, and naturally fruity coffees from Tarrazu—one of the highest-altitude coffee-growing regions in Costa Rica.
Cupper from Costa Rica
And therein lies the problem. Not all producers have a finca at almost 2,000 meters above sea level. The majority don't. The majority are located far below that, producing coffee for a market that often can't cover production costs. A different market channel could provide a solution. One that seeks out extreme flavors.
With extreme fermentations, we create extreme flavors – even at 800 meters above sea level. Of course, we can't just use any raw material; only well-sorted, ideally very ripe cherries will ultimately produce a great green coffee. But the altitude at which coffee is grown could suddenly be put into perspective.
And this is a huge opportunity for all producers who have not won the big prize of a finca at altitude, but, like the vast majority of coffee farmers, are still in the sensory mediocrity.
3. Risks
“For they know (not) what they do”
Deeply fermented and delicious coffees don't just happen. They aren't a coincidence, but the result of a precise, controlled, and deliberate post-harvest process.
We often hear about "overfermentation" when something tastes heavily fermented. We disagree with that. 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's not a little bit pregnant or too pregnant. Rather, she's either pregnant or she isn't. Just like coffee that's been fermented or not.
"Overfermented" carries a distinctly subjective quality and historically stems from the fact that uncontrolled fermentation has often been referred to as such. Coffees that smell and taste of vinegar, leather, rotten fruit, etc. These are defects. And they are the product of uncontrolled fermentation, not overfermentation.
These "modern" flavor profiles tend toward strong, luscious fruit notes, often with heavy floral aromas. They remind me of the perfume of old ladies.
Creating such a profile requires a great deal of knowledge. The know-how is essential, otherwise it won't work, and the coffee will ferment uncontrollably. Producers who know what they're doing always go to extremes and create even more intense flavor profiles.
Producers who have heard about this and now try something new run a fairly high risk of doing many things incorrectly, which can lead to uncontrolled fermentation.
The pH value, the temperature, the sugar content, the presence of air, the headspace in a closed container, the agitation, the temperature development, etc. – all these are factors that must be taken into account during this type of fermentation. Otherwise, it quickly becomes leathery, vinegary, and smelly.
Copy-paste. Will all coffee soon taste the same?
We're fortunate enough to be able to taste a wide variety of coffees. If we don't order samples ourselves, we get them sent to us. Often, these are intensely fermented coffees. This broadens our sensory horizons.
The problem here, however, is that I remember a general flavor profile much more than unique, characteristic traits.
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 involved the cherries first spending six days in an airless barrel before being dried for over 25 days as a natural dry-cured coffee.
This intensive process produced such similar notes in both coffees that I almost confused them. The Colombian tasted like the Indonesian.
"Is this tragic?" some might ask. Perhaps this is the way things are. Others, however, see this as a "loss of terroir" and may cling to profiles that were standard 20 years ago but are now increasingly fading due to socio-economic, botanical, and climatic conditions.
I'm neither a terroirist , someone who seeks the "terroir" in coffee. Anyone who knows me a little better knows how much I'm at odds with that term. Nor am I someone who blindly follows new trends. 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 the winemaker which profile to expand and which to leave alone?
I don't believe.
I rather believe that, for once, the "free market" of sensory preferences will decide. Coffee drinkers, and that includes roasters and coffee drinkers alike, will decide what works. We should simply avoid writing these new developments off as a "trend"—that would be too simplistic.
Are these coffees safe for health?
Intense fermentation notes come from intensive fermentation. Countless microbes and yeasts degrade sugars, raise acids, and lower the pH. Eventually, the yeasts retreat, and bacteria take over. In some cases, mold envelops the semi-dried cherries before they are dried in the shade for over 30 days.
It's a hodgepodge of lives.
I'm neither a biologist nor a health expert. And that's precisely why I have to ask this question: Are these coffees safe for health? If so, are there any studies on this?
Roasting kills harmful bacteria in coffee. However, if coffee is contaminated 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? Does anyone know whether intensively fermented coffees pose a potential health risk?
Conclusion
It's far too early for me to draw a conclusion. We're just at the beginning of this new era, in which coffees from Colombia taste like Flores, in which coffees' aromas are reminiscent of heavy, old-lady perfumes, in which we must once again readjust our sensory standards.
What are your experiences with these coffees? We're eager to hear your feedback and are open to learning more.
