Dominican Republic Barahona

Leaving South America after the Peru Penachi beans for the Dominican Republic, I embarked to roast the islands best coffee beans from Barahona. For this roast, I strived to make the perfect dark French roast for my husband as a thank you for being there for me when I dropped the roasting canister. (The Unfortunate Plight of the Uncoordinated)

Using four ounces I decided to try drying out the beans with a low temperature setting and a high fan speed for two minutes. Then I raised the temperature to medium and the lowered the fan to medium for ten minutes. The first crack was apparent with seven and three tenths minutes remaining. The second crack never really happened. Some girls develop early in junior high and others are late bloomers, waiting as junior high and high school passes before they fill in their bodies. The lack of an oily surface and deepness in hue let me know what I thought was a second crack I heard with three minutes remaining was just a late bloomer.

I captured this ruby beauty on film in Louisiana.

I was very surprised. From the amount of smoke, I thought for sure I had achieved my goal of a Husband Blend, but not so much. Even more disappointing was the taste, while it was an improvement over a Peruvian cup, it was far from satisfying. The Dominican Republic is part of the West Indies. I had visions of being transported to a tropical paradise without having to endure the humidity and heat of the tropics from my morning cup; a cup that might have been clean, sweet and smooth.

 On a Thursday morning that felt more like it should have been Friday already, we sat finishing our cups on the sofa with the 5:30 news on softly to keep us awake and not wake the little one. When we both slurped the final sip from the bottoms, we looked at the cups and then each other. It quickly became part of the morning rituals to review the coffee after sampling it from hot to warm for taste differences. While the bean my husband ate while waiting for the hot water to drip through the grounds and into the pot had a nice smoky flavor that made him excited for a drink, that  characteristic didn’t translate into the brew. There was nothing exotic about it.

I couldn’t find the words to adequately describe this brew. So my thoughts ran out my mouth as I tried to qualify this roast. “It’s not outstanding or noteworthy, but that doesn’t necessarily make it bad. But is that enough to qualify it as good. It was smooth, but practically all the brews from home-roasted beans have been smooth. This cup isn’t sweet or tangy, but it also isn’t bitter. It isn’t too fruity, but doesn’t have any discernible taste…”

My husband interrupts me with the perfect description for this brew, “It’s a utilitarian cup of coffee.”

So true. It’s a nuts and bolts type of coffee for the working class. It gets the job done. It’s unromantic; strictly a Monday morning type of coffee when you need to be down to earth.  I would say it is a cup half empty or half full depending on the personality, but I think my husband’s answer to that old breakdown of optimists versus pessimists also works with this roast. The cup is always full. Half the cup is liquid the other half air and fluid dynamic applies to both.