Coffee Tao

Coffee Tao, or the Way of Coffee, to me is more than just a cute name for a blog or a coffee consulting company.

Coffee is one of the most labor-intensive products in the world. From the careful tending of trees which can be wiped out by drought or floods, to the cherries that must be picked by hand even with today’s technology, to the proper pulling technique for your espresso shot, every single step in the process requires mindfulness and supreme attention to detail. There are many, many people between the bean and your cup, and every one of them needs to be at the top of their game if you want the best coffee experience possible. That’s the Way of Coffee in the sense of “path” (an alternate translation of the word Tao).

The Way in the sense of “method” or “practice” applies as well. Taoism, the spiritual forerunner of Zen, was a spiritual practice that emphasized mindful attention, the balancing of spontaneity and humble clarity. That mindful attention is what’s required by people who want to make the best coffee possible, precisely because there’s so many points in the process where it can break down. The best coffee varietals grown in the best soil don’t mean anything if the barista pulls the final product poorly. Likewise, a master barista can’t make a good shot to save his life if the beans he’s using were processed incorrectly or burnt during roasting.

Of course in the Way of Coffee I am using the term somewhat elastically, and it’s my last intention in the world to trivialize the beliefs of those who truly follow the Tao as a spiritual practice, but I do believe there’s a connection. To follow the Tao means to focus on what is, as it is right in front of you, and discern it accurately without preconceived notions. I can’t imagine a more important skill for a cupper or roaster, say, to have. Lots of bad coffee exists out there because the roaster can’t (or won’t) taste the flaws in the product. Maybe he’s proud of his methods and doesn’t want to admit a mistake, or maybe his palette just isn’t that refined yet. Both situations can only be improved by mindful attentiveness to the task at hand, and a willingness to see the coffee as it is, not as he wants it to be.

Think I’m taking a left turn into Looneyville with this example? Try this: attend a public cupping sometime and watch the number of people who don’t have a clear opinion of what they’re tasting until the host prompts them. “Do you taste the pepper in this Mexican Chiapas?” Nine times out of ten the reply will be, “Oh yes, I definitely taste the pepper.” Not, “I don’t taste the pepper” or “actually I’m getting more of a peat flavor”.

The coffee industry is filled with suggestive language and images in its advertising, and people buy into it–at least long enough to fork over a couple of bucks for a cup of chain store drip coffee. But ask yourself: when was the last time you actually tasted something like black currant or cedar in your coffee? Marketing-speak aside, are you aware that you really can?

Getting a cup with the best flavor possible (thanks to the attentive effort of countless people all over the globe), and improving the ability to taste it when it’s there, is what the Way of Coffee is truly about.