Let’s pretend—just for fun—that each and every one of us is going to die someday. And let’s pretend—again, just for shits and giggles—that each of us should live this life to the fullest or whatever. What are we going to do? Well, we don’t know! We’re just a coffee roaster, for crying out loud. Jeez.
But here’s what we do know: We try our best not to suck (to not suck?). If we can help a 900-person co-op in Ethiopia build a schoolhouse, of course we’ll do it. If one of our coworkers needs some time off to care for a sick parent, of course we’ll cover her shifts. If we need to take a red-eye coach flight to Frankfurt to score the perfect 1957 roasting equipment, of course we’ll do it.
And sure, we’re gonna die someday. Even this stupid Web site will probably be obsolete by next year. But as long as we’re all together, let’s do the best we can to not suck. And lighten up; it’s only coffee, after all.
Where does great coffee come from? It comes from third-generation farmers and mill-workers in Latin America, Indonesia, and East Africa. And that’s where we go to find it, forging relationships that ensure quality of life for our producers, and high-quality coffee for our roastery in San Francisco.
Don’t get us wrong; one-night stands are great. When it comes to coffee, however, we prefer long-term relationships. That’s why we spend months of every year on the road, visiting and cooperating with the folks who make it all happen, at the source.
We're old-fashioned... about roasting. We rely on highly trained people, not computers, to see through the intention of our roasting style. Our style highlights the intrinsic qualities of a coffee that drove us to buy it in the first place: cleanness, sweetness, acidity, complexity.
We roast on a hulking beast of a vintage German roaster—one that was made to hold consistent heat and let air flow through in simple ways controlled by a human being...just like you.