I tucked my suitcase under the hotel bed as the sun rises over Nicaragua. Felix, the head of the plantation himself is driving me up to the land; As we arrive I smell the gallo pinto and coffee made by the farmers to keep us thru the morning. Everyone is excited, chatting with each other, smiling as they arrive, as if, the long hours of work ahead were a breeze. I have experienced this excitement before; it is harvesting season!
From the small French farms to the large Brazilian plantations, from the red land of Ethiopia to the evergreen Indonesian islands, I have seen men and women committed to the land, carrying in their hands a knowledge of generations, a love to nature and hope to a prosperous future.
I decided to continue my travels. Year after year I’m making my own path, following my passion, finding the best beans. “I will always keep one foot in the farm” I tell Felix as he drives me back to the hotel at sundown. “And one hand in the kitchen”.
Back in New York City, the roaster is working full speed. I smell the coffee as I exit the cab. I breath in, I never get tired of the smell. For a second I close my eyes and the memories of my trip revived.
“Every cup is a journey”