Blue Batak Sumatra

Name: Blue Batak Sumatra

Origin: Lintong, Sumatra

Roaster: Irving Farm

Roast: (unknown)

Varietal: Catimor; Java; Jember

Preparation: Freshly ground, French-pressed, sipped black

Ever since coffee was first brought from the Horn of Africa to Indonesia in the late 1600s the Batak people have been growing it in the Lintong region of Sumatra, around Lake Toba. The high elevation, hearty rainfall, and volcanic soil make for superb conditions to grow the crop.

The coffee in Lintong, as in most of Indonesia, is wet hulled, also known as semi-dried or, in Indonesian, giling basah ("wet grinding"). This means that for a little while the seeds are partially dried while still in their parchment before finishing drying outdoors with the parchment removed. That initial step allows all of the sugars, alcohols, and other compounds of the fruit to be absorbed into the bean itself, creating a sweet and immensely flavorful coffee. During this process the beans turn from a light green to a darker, bluish green, ergo "Blue Batak".

Of course, the beans are not blue once they have been roasted - they are quite as brown as roasted beans should be. They brew into a busy brown; dark and complicated, but not opaque or self-absorbed. The aroma has notes of fruit and herbs everywhere. It is somewhat light in impact, but still absolutely chock-full of flavors. It is not tannic or acidic; the word "vegetal" comes to mind.

The palate offers earthy notes at first, but only at first. The acidity is a non-factor, moderate at most. As the coffee cools, the acidity remains low, but the flavors turn into fruit, vegetables, herbs, and spices, and to say that they are many and varied is a gross understatement. There are notes of green pepper, red pepper, and bay leaf, along with peripheral notes of smoke, florals, black pepper, and walnut. Irving Farm is also right on the money with the tasting notes that they have printed on the bag: "Heavy, oregano, green tomato" - that is, assuming that the first comment refers to the gargantuan complexity, the absolute mélange of flavors with which the coffee is dripping (literally, I suppose), and not to the texture, which is medium bodied. It is just substantial enough to carry all of the flavors, but nothing further; the body does not even try to interfere with its own effect on the tasting notes, as even knowing where to begin would be a Herculean task for it in this case.

So, there is certainly an epic smorgasbord embodied in the terroir here, but whence the terroir? Am I on an Indonesian plantation or in a Mediterranean garden? And either way, may I please stay a while longer?

Often, when I am done reviewing a coffee, wine, or tea, even if I liked it, I move on. "Time for what's next," I think to myself. But not this time. I may not quite have a handle on where, exactly, in the world I am, but that will not stop me from hanging around. I am off to have another cup of Blue Batak Sumatra, and my kind readers ought to have one as well. Enjoy.

Stumptown Organic Indonesia Gajah Aceh

Type: Organic Indonesia Gajah Aceh

Origin: Sumatra

Roaster: Stumptown Coffee Roasters

Varietals: Bourbon; Catimor; Jember; Typica

Preparation: Freshly ground, French-pressed, sipped black

There is bucking norms, and there is bucking norms. You know what I mean. Some people are smashers, looking to destroy the order of things from within so that they can lie to the world and to themselves about the comparative worth of whatever it is that they have to bring to the table. Others seek not to tear down but to build up, to expand, to augment. Eager and sincere, they are careful not to destroy, at least not wantonly, but they have no qualms about forcing the status quo to engage in honest competition. This is, generally speaking, a good thing.

The folks at Stumptown Coffee Roasters are serious coffee people. They travel to all corners of the earth (literally) sourcing beans, roast them great, and have found much success doing so. What makes them different? They do not roast light, dark, or anywhere in between. It is a different approach entirely.

I was skeptical at first. "All our coffee is roasted for the coffee itself. It's not necessarily defined as light, medium, or dark," the gentleman in the store told me when I asked about what I was buying. It sounded like either new-age nonsense or he had no idea what he was talking about (or both). In actuality, he was being quite helpful: there, in a very neat nutshell, is Stumptown's approach.

It was described in more detail in an e-mail from Stumptown. "Our guide for roasting coffee is flavor," they explained. "Each coffee is roasted to bring out the aspects inherent in the bean which we would like to accentuate for the optimum drinking pleasure. We don't like to impart a fingerprint or a roast signature on the coffee. Instead, we prefer to highlight what makes that particular varietal or farm exciting."

I still did not quite get it. So they have different criteria than others when roasting the coffee. Surely once the bean is roasted it still fits into one or another roast profile - perhaps not the usual one, but one nonetheless? Indeed it does, in this case a medium-light. But to fixate on that is to miss the whole point in the first place. Yes, when the beans emerge from the machine they are roasted at a certain level. But that is a post-hoc observation only. Many roasters - most, I daresay - decide on a level of light, medium, or dark, set the roaster, and send the beans through. Stumptown does not care what hue of brown the beans end up. How long should this bean, of this variety, from this origin, be roasted? What flavors does it have? How can we maximize the good ones, marginalize the bad ones, and coax out some new ones? How long before some of them are lost? Can we adjust to make sure that the texture is just right? And so on and so forth.

So yes, the beans end up ochre or burnt-sienna or whatever. Big deal. They end up right. That is the point.

And indeed, the coffee is delightful. The organic Indonesia Gajah Aceh brews into a light brown liquid with a tinge of orange. It has a fruity, nutty aroma, but the palate is quite different: earthy, smoky, slightly bitter around the edges, and rather non-acidic. The coffee is on the thin side, but smooth and consistent, and it gets thicker on the finish as it goes down nice and easy.

It really does make the experience more special when I learn not just of a new coffee, but also a new thing about coffee. I suspect that the same is true for most coffee aficionados, so I encourage everyone to get a packet of Stumptown, and consider the unique mindset that went into roasting it while sipping the brew. It will not be a disappointment.

Sumatra Mandheling Coffee

Type: Single Origin Sumatra Mandheling

Origin: Sumatra, Indonesia

Purveyor: McNulty’s

Roast: Uncertain, seemingly medium

Preparation: Freshly ground, French-pressed, sipped black

One sunny weekend morning, when I was still first starting to learn about coffee and to pay attention to the different varieties, I suddenly leapt up from my chair, sending the newspaper flying over the balcony rail and some apricots onto my neighbor's lap, and cried, "Whoa! Man, that is some excellent coffee! What kind is it, again? Su-ma-tra something? Phenomenal, just amazing! What luck to have stumbled across it! I wonder if my friends know about this…"

Ah, to be a young grasshopper, full of passion and naïveté, tasting of the good things in life for the first time. I envy me back then.

Anyhow, those Sumatra Mandheling beans, as well as the ones that I brewed this morning to formally review, were purchased at McNulty’s. McNulty’s just might be the best little hole-in-the-wall in all of Manhattan (the Strand bookstore being the best large hole-in-the-wall). I get most of my coffee and tea from there, as New Yorkers have been doing for well over a century now. Great stuff they have. I recommend not only reviewing their website and catalogue, but also visiting the actual store if you have the opportunity. The staff is knowledgeable and helpful, and even just browsing the vast selection in that old-fashioned atmosphere is a treat.

McNulty’s does not say in its catalogue how the Sumatra Mandheling is roasted, and I have not asked. It tastes like a medium roast. There is a mere hint of bitterness, and just as the coffee cools off the acidity shoots up quick before slowly mellowing off a little. One can taste notes of citrus, and maybe it is just the acidity playing tricks but I would swear that there is a touch of English Breakfast tea flavor lurking in the most subtle depths of the coffee. Overall, the flavor is bold, but not a punch-you-in-the-face kind of bold; perhaps a better word would be "robust". Finally, the coffee finishes syrupy, leaving the palate nicely primed for the next sip.

This coffee should have been roasted darker than it was. It would have been more natural. Much of the acidity would have been preempted, and the smooth flavor would have been in its proper element, all the better to shine as it was meant to. But that is a mere quibble; this Sumatra Mandheling is still far and away my favorite coffee. How significant is that? Every time that I go to McNulty's, from which I have tried dozens of coffees (really liking about a third of them), I get a few new varieties to try; and some of this Mandheling for those mornings when I just want what I know and like; and nothing else.