The Huila Farmers Behind Our Colombian Cold Brew

I come from Santa María, Huila, high in the Colombian Andes. On the farms there, the same branch holds red cherries and green ones. The red ones are ripe. That's where the sugar lives. The green ones are early. That's where the bitterness comes from.

Why most coffee tastes bitter

Most of the world's coffee is bought as a commodity: by the pound, at one price. A price per pound has no opinion about ripeness. When nobody gets paid to wait, red and green end up in the same bag, and the beans get roasted dark enough that nobody can tell.

That's why people think coffee is bitter. It doesn't have to be. Someone just has to pay for the wait.

Picked ripe, paid for the wait

The people who grow me pick by hand, only the red cherries, and they're paid for that patience, not for the weight. Turns out patience is an ingredient. It's just not on the label.

Then I'm roasted slowly in the Bay Area, so the natural sugars caramelize instead of burn, and steeped in cold water for more than twenty hours. Two ingredients: Colombian specialty coffee and water. That's how a cold brew ends up naturally sweet with no added sugar.

Where the money goes

Quality is made on the farm, by a farmer. When quality is what gets paid for, more of the money stays on the mountain, with the family that grew it.

The more of me people drink, the more of the harvest we can buy. That's the whole plan.

Meet the community who grows me

SANTA MARIA HUILA

I started at Stanford as a question: could a coffee taste so good that people choose it for the taste alone, and could that choice move money back to the farm? I'm the answer. Still in progress.

So the ask is small. Drink something delicious. I'll carry it the rest of the way to Huila.

Con amor,
Delirio