Jardines Red Gesha

I swore to god that I would never sell these Gesha coffees again. Yes, I know, they're amazing. But they're too expensive. Too expensive? Ok, that's a judgment call. My point is, the price we have to sell them at makes them a special treat for a very narrow segment of the market that is willing to pay for them. And it's a hard sell. But here we are. You know why? Because I have a problem. I cup coffees, lots of coffees, and I never ask how much the producer or importer wants for them until I decide if I want to buy the coffee. And then I end up in the Gesha trap. Honestly, I hate Geshas because of this. They drive me to drink; more coffee, really but nonetheless. Let's say you buy this one. I'll tell you about it in a second. First let's talk price. It's seventy four dollars for ten ounces. Yeah, I know, the ten ounce bag - the thing I disparagingly call the "metric pound." But I'm trying to help you enjoy an absolutely stellar coffee. Ten ounces. That's 284 grams. How much do you use in a pourover? Twenty-five grams for me. So I might could squeeze out twelve cups if I stretch a good 1:13 ratio. That's $6.17 per cup. PLLLLLLEEEEEEEEEEASE. We charge $6.00 for a ten ounce pourover of our worst coffee at the DoubleShot. Let's compare to wine, as we coffee people like to do. Fill a 750ml wine bottle with your brewed 1:13 Gesha. $14.24. HA! Ok, that's all I have to say about that.

The coffee. Lord Jesus. Really, that's all it's missing. Splash a little holy water over the grounds and you're all set for a heavenly journey. Let's get back to why I hate this coffee. I'm a skeptic. People send me Gesha samples and I turn my nose up at them because I've had a lot of Geshas and I know what a real Gesha tastes like. So many people are serving coffee they were sold as "Geisha," but I'm here to tell you they aren't what they think they are. There's just as much chicanery and confusion in the producing world as there is in the roasting realm. So I cupped this Gesha and I already knew it was going to be good because I was there, on the farm, and I saw the trees and I cupped the coffee in Colombia. In Armenia, the capital city of the Quindio region at the Cofinet lab. I already knew, and they already knew I wanted to buy it but refused to pay that much. But they sent me another sample anyway, and I couldn't help it. The fragrance makes me feel like I'm wasting my life drinking "regular" coffee, even though I know all of our coffees are exceptional. It's one of those that envelops your nose and your palate. You take a sip and it sweeps you away to a higher plane. To the mountains, maybe. Someplace you've been in the past where you felt awe and a little teary, light-headed even. Maybe that sense of wonder and satisfaction after doing something hard and sitting down to appreciate the afterglow. It is, after all, from the Garden of Eden.

Jardines, as in, "Gardens." The full name of the farm is "Jardines de Eden." It's an experimental farm owned by a guy named Felipe Arcila, planted with a lot of different exotic varieties of coffee, most of which you've never heard of. Felipe came to see me one day in Tulsa a couple of years ago. Why? I have no idea. Well, he wanted to sell me coffee, but why me? I'm no one. He was late, and I didn't appreciate it. Our meeting was brief and a bit terse, but he seemed earnest and humble, and he left me with a couple coffee samples. His mother, Luz Helena owns Maracay, which you know produces amazing coffee if you've been paying attention to our offerings at all. HIs father, Jairo produced those crazy coffees we drank for the DoubleShot birthday (also infused into this year's iteration of the chocolate bar). So Felipe won me over. His coffees won me over. 

This is the start of a new project I've been working on for the past several months. It's an introduction to something much crazier than anything we've done before. It's all about fantastic coffees and fantastical tales to go with them. These are serious coffees, but we've been taking ourselves too seriously. The fun has been vacuum sealed right out of coffee, and I just want to do things I think are fun and funny again. So here you go. Start with this Gesha. it's a softball. You'll be in the club, and we'll guide you into the next realm of weirdness that exists in the depths of my brain. 

Again, this is a 10 ounce bag. I won't disappoint. I actually don't even have the coffee yet, because it's just been processed in Quindio and is headed to the mill. They'll airfreight it to Tulsa as soon as it's ready and I'll roast it and Amanda will ship it as soon as I've received it. We're hoping that's by December 10. But certainly before Christmas. I'll only roast what has been ordered up to the cutoff date (December 9 at 10a). UPDATE: THE COFFEE IS STILL EN ROUTE FROM COLOMBIA, SO I AM PUSHING THE ROAST DATE BACK TO 12/16. THERE'S STILL TIME TO PRE-ORDER. You won't have a chance to buy it after that date. We only have a limited quantity, and this is the only place to get it. So get it.

Lemongrass, peach, cherry. Cherry all the way.

Listen to the latest episode of our AA Cafe podcast with Felipe Arcila, producer of this Gesha.

Also, Andrew and I sat down in the studio to discuss Gesha coffees on video. Watch it.