In Ethiopia: The Journey, Amastara says that Ethiopia is a place where “the best things are hidden under the surface and where the spiritual lessons can be profound and unexpected.” This newly arrived coffee from the Guji region in western Ethiopia is one of those things!
For cultural context, remember that coffee is native to Ethiopia. Coffee has likely been consumed in the region since the 10th century, but mostly in an edible form—coffee beans crushed and ground with fat into small bites that could be chewed on to raise energy, especially during long journeys or pilgrimages.
Pretty much every other place we think about getting coffee from—Costa Rica, Kenya, Brazil, Indonesia—it became a crop only in the last few hundred years, brought by colonial conquerors as a way to convert the land they had confiscated from native peoples into cash. As a result, coffee is rarely a well-integrated part of the culture of those countries. In Ethiopia, though, it’s the opposite. Coffee is as integral to the culture as, say, cheese or wine is in France. Good coffee in Ethiopia is everyday drinking for everyday people. Coffee, it seems clear, is part of the essence of Ethiopia.
Most outsiders might think of Ethiopia as a singular entity, but just like every other modern nation-state, what we know today as Ethiopia is made up of modern political boundaries drawn around a diverse range of cultural groups, religions, languages, etc. Guji is in western Ethiopia, inside the Sidamo region, roughly halfway between the capital of Addis Ababa and the neighboring South Sudan.
Guji is well off the typical tourist path in Ethiopia, a remote, beautifully forested, rarely visited part of the country. I haven’t been, but from what I’ve heard, there’s a lot of lush green forest undulating gently over hills and valleys as far as the eye can see. This coffee comes from 44 small farmers in the Odo Shakiso district. The group’s name, Daanisa, is the local word for the native umbrella-like trees used to shade coffee crops grown across the mountainous terrain.
The Ethiopian Daanisa is a natural process coffee, which means it’s dried with the cherries (aka coffee fruit) still on the bean. Natural process yields earthier, deeper flavors that I’m drawn to. After initial cleaning, cherries are dried on raised beds, with regular rotation and hand-sorting to remove imperfections. The drying process can take two to three weeks, depending on the weather. The light roast matches the delicacy of the coffee. Notes of blueberry and milk chocolate hit us first, and the coffee finishes with a subtle, citrus brightness. It’s almost black tea-like in its delicacy. Bright with notes of ripe berry and tropical fruit, Staff Partner and Roadhouse Manager Zach Milner says he loves “the buttery blueberry note! It’s my favorite!”
Thinking about Passover next week, Ethiopian Jews, who lived in the region for thousands of years, would likely have been drinking coffee from the get-go. Fast forward a few thousand years and, courtesy of Maxwell House’s wonderfully wise marketing move back in 1932 to begin printing a Passover Haggadah to be given away in abundance, a compelling cup of coffee became a “traditional” component of the modern American Seder.
This new Ethiopian is excellent as espresso—light, bright, citrusy. The Chemex is as lovely and gentle as a Joni Mitchell album. The pourover was a bit more meaty but still soft, succulent, and delicious!
