Africa Reviews

A Kenya in the more delicate mode: dry yet sweet, crisply fruity with grapefruit, apricot and black currant notes. Turns from crisp to slightly astringent in the finish.

Relatively light bodied but intensely dry and richly astringent, with an austere pineapple- and grapefruit-toned fruit. The finish, like the cup, is astringent but exhilarating. Director of Coffee Geoff Watts admires this Kenya's "pristine character" and its "dynamic and elegant acidity."

Lush floral notes and suggestions of fruity chocolate are pleasantly felt behind a dominating bittersweetness that leans a bit more toward the bitter than the sweet. A floral-toned sweetness softens the astringent finish.

Lush, sweetly overripe Harrar fruit notes are shadowed by salty and bitter tones. Dry chocolate in the finish.

Sweet floral and lemon tones shimmer above rather bitterly pungent bottom notes. The combination of juicy sweetness and pungent bitterness nets a sensation almost pineapple-like in its bracing contradiction. The pungent bottom notes, always present in Sidamos, are heavier than usual here, perhaps owing to the vicissitudes of decaffeination, though they settle and soften as the cup cools.

A deep, resonant pungency envelops the Kenya dry wine and tart berry tones, giving them a sexy fresh-sweat twist. This odd, rough-yet-smooth pungency is a Peet's trade mark, and only occasionally found in coffees dark-roasted by competitors. Here it supports without obliterating the citrus and berry freshness of the Kenya.

Rich Kenya wine tones dominate, buoyed by shimmers of citrus and berry. A complex sweetness blooms as the cup cools and the dry wine tones soften. A fine coffee, although I missed the echoing dimension of the very best Kenyas.

Sweet, deeply dimensioned floral notes dip toward spice and nut in the aroma. The cup is lemony, but it is a complex, deep lemon, modulating toward dry chocolate in the finish. Saved from any hint of candyish sentiment by richly acidy mid-notes.

A cup displaying all of the idiosyncrasy and complexity that makes Yemen such a fascinating origin. The aroma is funky, rich, pungent, all haloed by sweetness. The body is rich and buttery. The controversial, slightly composty overtones to the fruit that turn some palates off to Yemen are gently dominated here by the pungent taste of the roast, turning the fruit into a sensation as much tactile as olfactory, a sort of smoky, dry-toned richness.

Lovely Yirgacheffe character: Floral, intense, transporting, as astonishing at first sip as the sudden scent of jasmine at dusk. What makes this particular Yirgacheffe an especially fine example of the origin is a touch of richness and power supporting the always remarkable perfumes.

Sweet, almost juicy, lemon-and-nut-tones carry exhilaratingly from aroma into the cup. Once there, they turn a bit stolid, then darkens toward tobacco in the finish.

Ambivalence. Several panelists admired this Keny's understated but richly fruity sweetness, but judging from their scores, remained only mildly impressed by the whole package. "Sweet undertones; dances nicely on the palate, but with a weird, disjointed rhythm" wrote one, memorably. "Thin, lackluster," complained another. I found the cup pleasant but underpowered.

Pungent, full, deep-throated fruit dominates here. Several panelists called the cup balanced, which I take as praise for the way the acidity animates the profile from the inside rather than screaming off the top. Nevertheless, overall this coffee generated limited enthusiasm. "Decent," wrote one. "Not the big fruity notes, but drinkable," harrumphed another. "Lacks true East African character," complained a third.

Consensus found the acidity in this Kenya pleasantly fruity and sweet in the nose but disturbingly sharp in the cup and astringent in the aftertaste. Again, a slightly darker roast might help tame the sharpness. A few of us found solace in what struck us as a round, rather richly textured body.

One set of palates identified the problem with this Zambia as roughness and harsh acidity. Others, including me, simply read the coffee as underdeveloped. "Flat and woody ... no pulse" said one. "Tired," according to another. Perhaps too many half-ripe cherries carried through to the sample, or perhaps the lightish roast failed to do justice to the coffee. Three of us detected smoky or tobaccoish notes, but none found these tart embellishments particularly attractive.

This coffee provoked an unenviable list of drab adjectives: muddy (the favorite), grassy, neutral, ashy, rubber-like. Four panelists labeled the aftertaste "baggy," a term describing a flat, ropey sensation that usually indicates faulty conditioning or storage. Whatever its origin, the defect here overpowers the coffee.

Ambivalence. Most panelists noted a pleasantly fruity, floral sweetness, particularly in the nose, but as the coffee cooled an underlying baggy flatness emerged to drown out the pleasant memories. "This coffee is like a bitter wind," wrote one. "Cools to grassy flavors." Two panelists complained that the roast was too light to do justice to the coffee. Perhaps that accounts for the grassy notes, but I don't think that the overall flatness can be attributed to roast.

The brightly assertive, sweetly fruity acidity that Kenya enthusiasts love is on full display here, cradled by a richly textured body. As a bonus we get the treasured Kenya berry notes, although the panel wasn't sure whether they were blueberry, blackberry, strawberry or just "berry." Berries and all, I found this otherwise splendid Kenya a touch shallow in dimension compared to the highest-rated Gaturiri.

I liked this coffee. For me it displayed the typical strength of fine Kenyas: clean, bright, berry-nuanced fruit and tremendous dimension. Most of the panelists didn't taste it that way. They found the acidity a touch too astringent, particularly in aftertaste. One eloquently sat the fence: "good berry flavors, a 'juicy' cup, [but] finish a bit astringent. Needs balance." A darker roast might help achieve that balance by softening the acidity.

This was my personal favorite for its explosion of flowers and fruit and long, chocolate-toned finish. I wasn't alone. I counted two "wows!" scrawled on the cupping forms, a significant wow-quotient given the usually restrained disposition of the panel. Although most stopped short of wow, they did register their admiration for this coffee's bright, nuanced fruit and balanced matrix. Only one dissenter: "Bright, lemony cup, ... but I want more body and depth." Once again, a darker roast might go a long way toward developing that depth.