You probably already think I’m a bit weird or strange. Well, now you are going to think I am completely certifiable! I just received my first shipment of green coffee. I went to the shop this morning to bag up some greens and bring back home where I can sample roast them. Nothing odd so far, right? Well, here is where it gets a little crazy. I have said it many times before, but I am a romantic. I love things that appeal to the senses; the smell of baking bread, a powerful lyric in a song, real wood burning in a real fireplace, etc. Standing in the shop this morning and looking at those few burlap bags of green coffee that are mine, brought back a thousand memories. I wished so badly that I was there to roast them. I could almost hear Led Zeppelin playing “Whole Latta Love,” accented by the sound of dad’s old grocery store scoop diving into those green beans (yeah, I brought that along too!). I could envision the beans snapping as they spilled from the drum roaster into the cooling bin, accompanied by a billow of smoke, the flame dancing under the drum.
I opened up a bag of Natural Ethiopian Yirgacheffee Konga and the aroma blew me away…berries! I kid you not, the aroma of berries was so powerful that you could almost taste it. I wanted to bottle it as perfume. I wanted to burry my face in the bag. I wanted to cry.
I used to roast coffee about 20 hours a week or so on a 20lb roaster. I was surrounded by dozens of bags of greens and I have sat in front of my roaster for 12 hours strait many days, churning out hundreds of pounds of fresh coffee a week. I have turned my climate controlled 65 degree shop into a 90+ degree sweat shop from the heat off my machine. Sometimes if felt like a chore. Sometimes a drudgery, or just another manufacturing job. Today…it felt like home.