Coffee: Kuta; Papua New Guinea Waghi Valley

I love coffee. Love it. Have gotten to the point where, really to my own chagrin, can easily taste the difference between fresh and stale, fresh ground whole bean or pre-ground, and even if it’s been brewed properly (temperature, time, proportion, etc.)

I blame this on Murky Coffee, which has spoiled me. Murky Coffee has been in and out of controversy over the last year – one of their shops was shut down for unpaid taxes, there was a high profile spat between the owner, Nick Cho, and a customer that, while amusing to me in a sophomoric sense, got pretty juvenile, and even a disturbance in the force over Mr. Cho’s appointment to the chairman position at the U.S. Barista Championship (USBC) Committee.

But underlying all this static is the single thing that made me a Murky Customer for life after my first delicious sip, summed up in their motto – it’s the best damn coffee there is…yes, I said “damn.”

I didn’t know coffee could really taste that good. That lattes could be better without sugar than with it. I had veered close at times – there was that double-thick, double-sweet stuff we had with fry bread in the village in Michoacan while doing missionary work; or that exquisite cup I had with Flan in a Mexico City hotel. In Europe, I’ve had above-par cappuccinos both Rome and in Vienna, but I have never had coffee like this.

In fairness, where Murky really shines is their espresso. If you’re a drip guy, the coffee is average to sub-par. If you like your coffee made a la French Press, well, I’ve never had the time to sit down with a press pot there but you couldn’t ask for better coffee to do it with, so I’m sure it’s out-of-the-park good. (They regularly do cuppings there which, considering that coffee chemically has more flavor complexity than wine, probably means they’re sampling only the good stuff in the hopes of enhancing the perspicacity of your palate.)

Which brings us to the real star – the coffee itself. Murky Coffee buys all their beans from a roaster in North Carolina named Counter Culture Coffee. The guys at Counter Culture are the real stars behind the scenes. You can have a $10,000 plus Synesso Cyncra with all the bells and whistles, or, moving away from Espresso toward perfection in a brewed cup, the $11,000 Clover – the coffee world’s new wunderkind – and if you don’t have good, fresh beans roasted by an expert, your coffee is still going to taste like crap.

I’ve sampled several of Counter Culture’s blends. Their Espresso Toscano is the house blend for double-shots and lattes at Murky, and it’s buttery, caramelly, and flippin’ delicious. Their Decaf Zaragoza out of Mexico is in contention for most flavorful, even above the caffeinated blends (and is decaffeinated by a natural water method, not the usual chemicals), their robust Colombian Cauca, and the excellent El Salvadoran Finca Mauritania.

My latest fix is the Kuta, from the Waghi Valley of Papua New Guinea.

I only wish there were some way to offer you a chance to smell it. I have never in my life gotten an aroma from a bag of coffee beans that is even remotely similar to this. The aroma is thick with butter, honey, and brown sugar, with a hint of frutiness. It hits your nose with a savory punch, then finishes sweet.

Truth be told, I haven’t been able to coax the full flavor out of this yet. I have a portable plastic Bodum press pot that lacks the capacity or finesse of a full-sized glass version, and I don’t have a thermometer handy to check my water temperature. I also need to stop being lazy and clean out my conical burr grinder instead of resorting to my cheap little quick and easy blade jobbie, which doesn’t give me an even, consistent grind. My drip coffee maker, the least friendly way to make a cup (they aren’t designed to even get water temps in the ballpark of the 190-205F range most coffees need to really shine; and hot plates make coffee burn quite fast, turning the oils from sweet to bitter) hasn’t had a chance at this yet, but it has a notoriously low brewing temperature which extracts surprisingly good flavor but leaves me with a lukewarm cup.

I’d love to bring this blend to someone with a Clover and have them show me what it can really do. Coffee is hard for me to distinguish flavors in, other than to say that I like it more or less than other blends, that a particular type is richer or bolder, sweeter or more savory. This Kuta tends dark on the flavor profile, with a robust body and a bitterness on the finish that kills the taste before I can figure it out, probably because of my own brewing inadequacies.

All the same, if you enjoy your morning cup as much as I do – if you wake up looking forward to it as a delightful experience that starts your day out on a high note – give Counter Culture coffees a try. Get whole beans, grind them fresh, and use the press-pot method.

You won’t regret it.