THE SURPRISES OF HOME-ROASTING COFFEE

By Tim Atwell

“This one reminds me of going camping,” I said, inhaling the rich aromas of the Organic DR Congo Mapendo that my coffee guide, Aaron Nelson, had poured for me. It was my first cupping, and there was a row of coffee mugs lined up on the table in front of me to smell, taste, and evaluate. As I worked my way down the row of mugs, I found each to contain a coffee different than anything I had ever tasted.

On the next cup, Nelson described tasting notes including plum, honey, and apricot, while I described it as blueberry waffles. Eggo waffles, to be exact. Our difference in opinion highlighted our divergent backgrounds—as Director of Coffee at Dawson Taylor, Nelson had thousands of blends, roast styles, and varieties to compare his tasting notes, while I had a simpler frame of reference (e.g., waffles)— but by sharing a taste of several types of great coffee, we had something to bond over. It elevated the experience of drinking coffee in the same way a great meal can elevate eating, or a bottle of fine wine can elevate consuming alcohol.

Participating in the coffee cupping was one of many unexpected but pleasant surprises I’ve experienced since I started roasting my own coffee last summer. I now regularly receive unroasted coffee on my doorstep, green and dense, with a rich, chocolatey fragrance that bursts from the shipping bags when I open them. I find myself using a kitchen scale to measure the coffee before I place it in my roaster—a small, countertop device that looks like a popcorn maker or a blender. The roaster stays outside in the summer and in the garage in the winter, places where smoke emanating from the beans won’t activate the smoke alarm.

During the roast, I keep a close eye on the coffee and adjust the temperature and airflow as needed. A little fan circulates the beans to ensure an even disbursement of heat, and I watch as the beans bounce and swell in the roaster. When they change from green to brown, they start crackling like little popcorn kernels, and I know they’re almost ready. Each batch is different, but by monitoring the temperature, time, and color, I’m able to achieve my desired roast level.

The fragrance of the freshly roasted coffee is tempting, but I leave it untouched for a day to give it time to release CO2. As the gas is released, the coffee’s flavor becomes stronger and more vibrant. It sits on the counter overnight before I move it to an airtight container, where it will retain its peak flavor for several days.

Even after a year of home roasting, I find myself a beginner in all aspects of the coffee’s journey. The cupping experience taught me I still have much to learn about where my coffee is sourced, the subtle art of roasting and blending, and appreciating the complex flavors and aromas in the final cup. When it comes to coffee, though, there is a joy in being a beginner and having a whole world of knowledge and experiences ahead. There’s joy in tasting a coffee and saying, with a hint of surprise, “Ahh, this one tastes like blueberry waffles—and I love it!”