DIARY OF A GROWER

ALMOST FOUR YEARS AGO, when my wife Nina and I had a roaster/retailer location in Bellingham, Wash., a construction contractor approached us with a sample of a Honduran coffee, hoping to sell us some of it. He also lived in Bellingham, where we are much of the year, and he was doing an old friend a favor despite not knowing much about coffee himself.
     You can tell a lot just by looking at a green coffee, or coffee in parchment, for that matter. This coffee was ugly. Each bean felt more like a bar of soap than a hard dry bean. The color was a deep blue-green. Instead of being a dead skin ready to be shed, the chaff was still alive and one with the bean. For a Central American clean coffee, it was all wrong. Nonetheless, this was the beginning of a beautiful relationship.
     When I met Carlos and Dora, the owners of this coffee, I learned that not only was their coffee not yet available in the U.S., but that they were selling it for well under C market price to the closest buyer to their plantation. They wanted help exporting their coffee out of Honduras and importing it into the United States.
     From the beginning, I had to be honest and say, “It’s not worth it. All things considered, you’re better off continuing to do what you are already doing.” However, I also began to ask a ton of questions. As it turns out, they met all the specialty criteria for elevation, rainfall, soil type and microclimate. So the question became, “Why haven’t they been able to produce a good coffee?” Of course, this led to many more questions, a variety of photos and much coffee talk. Carlos and Dora were both excited to show me pictures describing every detail that came to their minds. Their plantation began to seem to me like an island paradise: remote, isolated, beautiful and untouched. Their natural shade canopy was the most diverse I had ever seen. I had to go visit.
     Almost four years later, I flew into San Pedro Sula, Honduras, with two gringo friends, Aaron Brown, an investor, consultant and photographer, and John Hepola, who probably got more adventure than he bargained for on his first trip outside the U.S. After enduring an excruciatingly slow customs entry, I was intrigued by the currency changers that were everywhere like friendly vultures. They were all carrying bricks of bills about five inches thick and it was anyone’s guess if they totaled $500 or $10,000. In my home country of Guatemala, there is also a black market exchange, but they’re a bit more discrete and harder to find. Usually they find you and you run the risk of being robbed, which is how one offsets the cost of offering better-than-bank rates. However, these guys looked official, with name tags on lanyards. The day I arrived they were paying 18.80 lempiras for one U.S. dollar. I exchanged some money and our adventure began.
     By that point, Carlos and I had cultivated a friendship that went far beyond coffee, and the two of us had waited for this visit for a long time. I knew all about everyone I was about to meet, but didn’t anticipate that Carlos would bring his entourage to the airport to give us a warm welcome. Carlos’ brother, his brother-in law and a neighbor at the plantation had all made the trek to welcome us.
     The plantation manager had stayed behind. Carlos told us the plant manager’s name is Ramon, his nickname is “Moncho,” but he prefers people to call him “El Tigre.” Yes, that means “The Tiger.” You really don’t know what to expect and you begin to wonder about a guy that wants to be called “El Tigre.” It was at about this time that John and Aaron really wished they knew more Spanish.
     From the airport, we went straight to the area dry mill. There, a cupping session was prepared and waiting for us, including Carlos’ coffee and some additional coffees that we were interested in. They had a gorgeous two-barrel sample roaster built by the plant manager’s brother. The degree of roast was perfect. It was consistent throughout each sample, and from one sample to the next as well as from the outside of the bean into the core of the bean.
     I was perplexed at first by the flavor of the coffee. Honduras does not have the distinct microclimates that Guatemala has, but there are few months of the year where coffee is not being harvested somewhere in the country. This is both a huge plus and a minus. These other coffees we were about to cup were from similar elevation, however from different regions and more importantly harvested at a different time of year. Honduras is a large contributor to coffee markets in North America directly and indirectly. Often bribes are paid at the border and coffees are smuggled in from Mexico and Honduras to get a better price as a Guatemalan Coffee. In the long run, the smuggling is not good for either party, or the end consumer for that matter. Guatemalan coffees are de-valued and Honduran coffees that are smuggled have no incentive to improve quality. Those who do this eventually disappear or go to prison. I expect in the years to come, good Honduran coffees will have a higher premium as the potential is there. This may even be accelerated if the Honduran government minimized or removed the flat $5/bag fee for export.
     Before we even cupped the coffees, being able to see the samples still in parchment, and not just green, gave me a clue as to what was to come. None of the other coffees was nearly as clean in the parchment stage. They were not well-sorted and looked as if they had not been washed well, or as if they had been washed with fermented water. When I cupped them, I noted a nice mild acidity, but no body and little aroma. Tired would be the best word I can think of. Still, I detected some very nice flavors that could have been enhanced with better processing techniques.
     While it might appear that the cupping profiles were due to lack of knowledge, carelessness or shortage of water, the bottom line is that there is little incentive to do better, and no infrastructure to pave the way to create incentive. The lack of infrastructure is a huge barrier to both improving the differential on the commodity market as well as getting a piece of the specialty market.
     These things kept running through my mind as I cupped the same coffees over and over, searching for answers. We cupped so much we had to spit it out, or we’d be bouncing off the walls.
     After cupping, we continued on and toured the dry mill, and of course I was like a kid in a candy shop. We ended with an hour meeting in the main office where I shared visions of quality, trying to shift away from the traditional talk of “commodity.” That evening Evenor Martinez, the plant manager, was kind enough to trade his four-door Toyota Hilux pick up with us for the sake of our comfort on our trip the next day. Unfortunately, the next morning as Carlos was coming back to the hotel to pick us up, the radiator exploded.
     We expected to be picked up at 4 a.m. and they did not show up until 6 a.m. Having grown up in Guatemala this seemed quite punctual to me. During our wait, a young man who was also a guest at the same hotel came down to the lobby. He asked what brought us to Honduras. I told him we were visiting, touring the country and seeing some old friends. I said, “how about yourself, what brings you to Honduras?” The last person you expect to run into at 4 a.m. in the lobby of a hotel in San Pedro Sula is someone else looking for great coffees in Honduras. I had been looking forward to meeting K.C. O’Keefe for some time and there he was. I know there are many in the specialty coffee industry that would consider what K.C. does as the perfect dream job. He travels through out Central and South America, getting to know people at origin and sourcing the very best coffees you can find. The reality is that although very rewarding it is extremely hard work. It is impossible to do it well without a strong passion for coffee and a genuine concern for people. I guess it also helps if you’re bilingual and multicultural.
     Now that the tedious work was over, it was time to have fun and tend to our primary purpose of the trip, to visit Finca Las Canas (Carlos’ land) and then to export his coffee. Together we had worked hard to implement and improve systems and processes. This included a schedule for fertilizing, weeding and now pruning for the first time. This pruning is new to them as this is a brand new plantation. The plants have never really needed it before. El Tigre was extremely proud. I could see his entrepreneurial spirit overflowing despite his quiet character. He could tell I was extremely impressed with the health of their coffee trees. It was everything I expected. The only thing that exceeded my expectations was how hard it was to get there. We drove on pavement for five to six hours, then a dirt road for about an hour and a half and then we packed in on horses for another hour and a half. And this is exactly how the coffee is hauled out! Upon arrival we hiked around for three hours surveying the land and I analyzed everything I could from soil types, leaf coloration, size, age and overall health of the plants. I even tasted some of the cherries. We talked, exchanging information the whole time while Aaron and John took photographs. It was a nice surprise to me how healthy their springs are in the driest time of year. On the way back down the mountain, I realized some of us seemed a little big for the horses. I’m sure we looked like we were walking bow-legged through the mountain trails while straddling a large dog. But apparently these horses and mules can pack more weight in coffee than what we weigh.
     Often, as growers we like to keep it a secret when we get a great price for a coffee, hoarding relationships, keeping the knowledge of a high-paying buyer to ourselves. In the end, quality in the cup speaks for itself and it is this that warrants a premium. Working with Carlos has made me appreciate many systems that I’ve taken for granted at Finca Vista Hermosa. And in return some of the quality control that we’ve learned over the last 50 years, we have been able to implement at Finca Las Canas in less than five years. This has dramatically improved the quality of the cup. With a little more work, they will get a much better price and roasters get an amazing and unique coffee. There is a level of communication that comes naturally among growers regardless of origin that does not exist between a grower and a roaster or a grower and an importer. There are many joys and difficulties that just cannot be explained. They can only be experienced. It is a very challenging, unique and rewarding burden to be the only link in the coffee chain that essentially gets paid only once a year. Our short-term decisions usually exceed long-term plans of many roasters. Of course, governments of origin and destination, the importers, roasters and end consumers all have a unique role in paving the way for better coffees. At the end of the day, true social, economic and environmental sustainability is where everyone wins. Everyone! And for this to work, the two non-negotiables are a quality product and good relationships. Otherwise the investment is short term and the reward is limited.
     Personally on this trip, I learned that despite the fact that a few acres of land in Honduras are cheaper than a tank of gas, it still takes many people and much time to produce something excellent. It has been an honor and privilege for me to see a process and be part of the beginning of another plantation. This is something that took place at Finca Vista Hermosa long before I was born. In some ways the challenges many Honduran coffees face today are the same ones of lack of logistics, infrastructure and government help that Guatemala had many years ago. As I finish this article, we are just a few weeks away from getting Carlos’ coffee into the U.S., and we and our customers couldn’t be more thrilled about it. As I look back four years ago to when I first heard of Carlos, I continue to be amazed at the fruit that comes as a result of a solid friendship and a strong commitment to quality. These are the things you just can’t put a price on.


     Until next time,
     Edwin

EDWIN DAVID MARTINEZ is a third-generation coffee grower who was raised in Guatemala. He has worked in every link of the coffee chain, from growing to retail. Edwin and his wife, Nina, both live and work between Guatemala and Washington state. He can be reached at
edwin@fincavistahermosa.