Breaking Bread: An Eye Opening Cup of Coffee

It was my first week at a new job launching what would soon be one of the most unique coffee shops ever to spring into existence — a bold claim, but hear me out.

The New Black was a multi-roaster concept, so we didn’t roast any of our own coffee, instead, we curated a selection of roasters from around the world. We had single-origin espressos and filter roasts from roasters of the year, former world champion baristas, as well as some local heroes.

When I arrived I knew coffee, or at least I thought I did. I frequented local roasters, freshly ground my own coffee, had a pour-over kit at home, and developed what I thought was a discerning palate. So naturally, as an enthusiastic 30 something I expected to impress my peers, wowing them with my sophisticated knowledge of flavor profiles and how quickly I had learned the ins and outs of all things coffee.   

At The New Black, we had over a dozen different coffees on hand in our training and testing lab - and I was in the enviable position where I was surrounded by a team of world-class coffee professionals. A veritable kid in a candy store, with the opportunity to taste test coffees of the world, roasted by some of the best in the business, and served by a team of baristas so well trained their brigade was more akin to a special forces unit.

I’ll never forget sitting down for my first cup of Ethiopian coffee, apron on,  sleeves rolled up, ready to take on the world one cup at a time. I smiled as I pulled the mug to my lips, the layered aromas steaming up a flavorful promise of the sip to come. With the first sip, my expression changed, I was expecting a “good” coffee, not a revelation.

The intensity of the fruit bomb that hit my lips was the last thing I would have ever expected. Ripe cherries, a juicy mouthfeel, but still, undeniably coffee. I had been working my way through the different origins and roasting styles when I had my perception of coffee shaken to the core. Notes of dark chocolate, nuttiness, ranges of acidity, brightness or richness, and some hints of fruit were the notes that I knew to look for, but this single sip opened my eyes to depths and complexities of flavor I didn’t know existed. 

It’s rare that you can identify the defining moments in your life as they happen, and for me, this definitely was a game-changer; coffee became something more that day. It’s as if I’d been trying to appreciate a sunrise from indoors - suddenly the curtain was pulled back. Instead of appreciating only the most basic of notes (roast, origin, preparation) that helped me “know” coffee, now I could see that was only the surface and I wanted to dig deeper. I started learning about individual coffee bean varietals, processing methods, and the level of complexity skyrocketed from there. 

Every time I have a naturally processed Ethiopian coffee I’m brought back to that day in the office; I’m reminded of the breadth and depth that food has to offer beyond just simple nourishment. Like a daredevil chasing the next thrill, I continue to chase after those unique culinary experiences in the hope that my next meal will open the door to even more new worlds of flavor.