John P
Active member
My latest thoughts from my blog
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.
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.
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