Coming Back Around to the Flor Azul

This direct-trade variety from Nicaragua was one of the earliest culinary coffees I wrote about on this blog, back in November 2008, when I first started to systematically evaluate the beans I was trying. Back then, I thought I knew a fair amount about coffee, but I really didn't know anything. My knowledge was limited to some basic presumptions I had about the geographic origins of various coffees. I didn't know much about individual growers or roasters. That level of detail was not readily available on the Web or on packaging until this third-wave era of coffee geekery with its focus on elevations, how beans are grown, dried and roasted, and the precise temperature settings on super-expensive coffee-making equipment. It used to be the specifics of coffee bean origins were known only to buyers, tasters and really obsessed fans. Maybe I'm turning into one of the latter, but I still have a lot to learn about the topic. I doubt I'll ever be an expert. I don't have the palate, or the patience, or the equipment. But when I saw that the Flor Azul was in season again, I was curious if my impressions of it had changed.

Name Flor Azul

Origin Las Brumas Cooperative in the Jinotega, Matagalapa region of Nicaragua.

Roasted Aug. 25 by Intelligentsia.

Purchased Sept. 4 at Café Grumpy, 224 W. 20th St., Manhattan, between Seventh and Eighth Avenues.

Description Direct trade. Caturra, Catui grown at 1200-1550 meters. From the Web: "Flor Azul lays bare a flawless cup; clean and composed. Notes of melon fruit and apples express themselves affably in the forefront, hinting slightly toward citrus. The acidity plays a supporting role—adding lift to the mouthfeel as Swiss chocolate comes through in the finish."

In the cup The first time around, I think I mostly drank this as a regular coffee, drowned in soy milk, having found it too weird in general, and certainly too strong as espresso, my preferred way to take coffee. We were also having some water problems in our building last fall, and I had a cold. So many excuses. This time around, I tried it again as an espresso and as a regular cup of coffee.

It is certainly a challenging taste, lighter-bodied than I like and coming on strong first with flavors I guess are the melon and apple, but I've never been good at identifying those notes in a coffee. These seem to be notes that a lot of pro tasters value, but I still find it a bit weird in coffee. The reported chocolate finish was very slight to my taste.

So, this remains a complicated coffee for me, and while I recognize it as something good, and unusual, it's not something I can bring myself to drink every day. It's more of an interesting change of pace, but not something I will go out of my way to find again.

(Luckily, I have some other tasty selections I'm trying, roasted by Ritual and Verve, that I bought at Grumpy on the same day, and the excellent Montes de Oro from Stumptown.)

So, this was not an aha coffee. But that's OK. When you get down to the drinking, coffee is still a matter of personal taste. I'm learning that you can recognize something as good, of high quality, without loving it. I know there are a lot of people who enjoy Flor Azul, judging by some of the sell-side raves online, and it can be a way to jolt people with a new idea of what coffee can be, but this is not a selection I would want to drink with any regularity.

A Shot of 'Floral Shining Citrus' Kurimi

My quest for the God shot, as a fellow Wordpress blogger put it, continues. I didn't get down to Porto Rico Importing Co. on Bleecker Street again yet, so it's back to my regular supplier in Chelsea. I bought some more Heartbreaker, and decided to try this bag of beans from Ethiopia too. Name: Kurimi

Description: Direct trade. "Floral Shining Citrus." Indigenous grown at 1700-1900 meters in Ethiopia.

Source: Café Grumpy, 224 W. 20th St., between Seventh and Eighth Avenues.

Geographic origin: Yirgacheffe region, Ethiopia.

Date Roasted: Nov. 18, 2008 by Intelligentsia.

Date Purchased: Nov. 24, 2008.

The Pour: "What's that? Smells good," said my wife from across the room. She does not drink anything but decaf, and that, rarely. The flavor is mellow, not overpowering, not bitter or sour, either. I'm not sure I am a fan of coffee that calls to mind fruit flavors, but this one does and pulls it off. It's subdued.

Intelligentsia says, "Charming the palate with its citrus fruit acidity, the Kurimi sparkles and shines as it brings forth flavors of orange, lime and lemongrass. Notes of jasmine and honeysuckle carry a delicate sweetness that gives the cup a juicy, refreshing character. A subtle and clean finish leaves notes of sweet spice and cocoa. Truly an elegant cup."

I caught the hint of orange, missed the notes of jasmine and honeysuckle, and did get a whiff of cocoa when the shot of espresso was brewing. I think I prefer something deeper and richer in a coffee, but this bean was a unique experience.

Effects: My first shot was made mild, in the early evening Wednesday, and I was still drowsing an hour later. That was probably a sign of my exhaustion from cramming a week's worth of work into three days before the holiday. I eventually perked up and roughed out this post while catching up on some podcasts and following the dire news from Mumbai. I didn't dare try another shot, or I would have been up all night.

This morning, I made a strong shot to wake up for the holiday. Feeling like a bit of a sluggard. Jane is cooking vegetarian stuffing in the kitchen to take down to our communal Thanksgiving feast with friends. CNN is chattering in the other room. The crowd are trapping us at home for a while. Our daughter is upstairs with Indian neighbors, who are watching the Macy's parade out their window a block away, big balloons passing through buildings on Broadway in the distance. I'll have to go up and get their take on the news. This shot of Kurimi was a brief moment for reflection. Does it shine? Maybe it does. We shall see how the rest of the day goes. I may need a third.

Peace.

A Mug of Flor Azul Coffee

O.K., I ground the "Heartbreaker" and drank it all up, so I decided to try something different in my quest for the perfect cup of home-brewed coffee. Now I am blogging about this so I will remember the next time. Why are you reading it? That is your business. Oh, Internet. You're such a mix of exhibitionism, voyeurism, the trivial and the ineffable. Name: Flor Azul Description: Direct trade. "Creamy approachable melon." Caturra, Catui grown at 1200-1550 meters (above sea level). Source: Café Grumpy, 224 W. 20th St., between 7th and 8th Avenues. Geographic origin: Las Brumas Cooperative in the Jinotega, Matagalapa region of Nicaragua. Packaging: Sealed in thick plastic bag. By the way, is that a rotten iPhone photo of the bag, or what? Sorry, I was in a rush, and my wife doesn't want this trash lying around. Better shot by coffeeruas on Flickr. Coffee porn! Coffeeruas says: "Nice mouthfeel, smooth, apple, nutty.... very mild." Date Roasted: Nov. 4, 2008 by Intelligentsia. Date Purchased: Nov. 12, 2008. The Pour: I fired up the Jura-Capresso Impressa F9 Espresso Machine that I bought (refurbished) when I felt richer and tried this first as espresso for much of the week. But it's not an espresso bean. It seemed a little sour and bitter at the same time, without any milk. Not apple or nutty either. Thick crema. Certainly "approachable" (!) and mild. Maybe I am just not a good taster. I also have a cold, and there's been a woody taste in our building's water since the new tank was installed on the roof. Yada, yada. I decided to try a regular mug of coffee on Saturday morning, brewed strong. Still kind of sour. Less bitter. It was indeed a little creamy. Huh. Still better than average coffee and fine with soy milk. Effects: It's coffee. It does the job. I will have another mug right now. Yes, it definitely grows on you. I am waking up, shaking off the cold a little, breathing a little better. For espresso, I think I still prefer Heartbreaker. I will probably widen my search for beans to the wide selection at Porto Rico Importing Co. on Bleecker Street, which comes highly recommended by some friends who are transplanted West Coast coffee snob. It always seems too damn crowded when I'm in that neighborhood, though. Suggestions always welcome.