Coffee Break

I drink A LOT of coffee on a regular basis here in Nicaragua.  I have an average of at least three cups a day, and that’s a conservative estimate.  Nicaraguans drink a lot of coffee as well, and can even boast that their country produces some of the highest quality coffee beans in the world.

Unfortunately, the majority of Nicaraguans have never tasted the gourmet coffee that’s enjoyed by foodies and Starbucks patrons of the rich places the world over.  Instead, the average Nicaraguan drinks cheap, low quality instant coffee with brand names like “Presto,” “Toro,” and “1820.”  This stuff can barely be called coffee.  It’s no wonder a cup of café Presto is generally mixed with a cup of sugar.

My friend Xavier makes a paleta to stir the coffee while it's toasting

It gives me great pleasure to say though, that in certain towns like Santa Lucía, one’s coffee prospects are much sunnier.  Many families grow their own coffee and drink café de palo exclusively.  (Café de palo means “coffee from the plant.)  Although the coffee that is produced is not industrialized and not available outside of the Santa Lucian caldera, there is real know-how and tradition in the small-scale production that exists here.

A rare photo of The Pollo Brujo in his natural habitat

While I've been in Nicaragua I’ve learned a lot about the processing of coffee, and I’ve even turned coffee fruits taken directly from the fields of Santa Lucía into the steaming beverage we know and love.  This way of processing coffee has been the way Nicas have done it for hundreds of years, and I feel privileged to have been able to learn it!

These photos come from the day of my "final exam." My friend Xavier came up with the idea and basically it involved me having to do every step of the process completely by myself in order to pass.  I passed...but barely, he says.

Xavier taught me everything I know, but we also enlisted the help of an old-timer who lives across the street.  This neighbor supplied us with the pilador (read on to see what that is) and goes by the charming moniker El Pollo Brujo, or “The Witch Chicken.”  Nobody seems to be able to remember why.

Read on as we look step-by-step at the processing of coffee 

from fruit to cup, the way the Nicas do it.

Step 1: Pilar – getting to the grains 

The coffee comes from the mountain packed in sacos.  The fruits, which when fresh are a bright red color, have been left to dry out in the sun, and have turned a dark brown.  In order to get to the coffee grain inside, you have to take off the outer skin layer and an inner papery layer called pergamino, or “parchment.”  The technique for doing this is not exactly subtle, but it is certainly effective.

Basically you use an oversized mortar and pestle situation called a pilador and you beat the crap out of the coffee until the rind and the papery layer separate from the grain.  The mortar part is made from a hollowed out tree stump and the pestle part is a length of strong heavy wood with battering rams on each end.  It is tiring work and gives you nasty blisters pretty quick.  The Pollo Brujo can pilar all day in the sweltering sun, he says.

The mortar-and-pestle-like pilador with partially pilar-ed coffee inside

 Here I am pilando

And checking out my gnarly blisters

Step 2: Soplar – separating the good from the bad

Next you have to separate the unwanted bits from the grains.  To do this, you fill a small plastic pan with the coffee grains and the pulverized bits of rind and pour it from as high as you dare back into the pilador or another container.  The idea is to wait for the wind so that the lighter bits of rind and pergamino are blown away and the heavier grains of coffee fall back into the pan.  The act of pouring the coffee in order separate it from the stuff you don’t want is called soplar or “blowing”.


The Pollo Brujo says that if the wind isn’t blowing you have to whistle for it.  If you whistle, he says, the wind will come.  And sure enough, after he whistled the wind came.  But would the wind have come if he hadn’t whistled?  We will never know.

Most Nicas will use an electric fan on especially un-windy days to do their soplar-ing.  You can also use a zaranda or “strainer” to get rid of unwanted rind bits.  In order to get your coffee perfectly clean though, you have to put the finishing touches on by hand and manually take out deformed grains and heavier undesirables.

Here I am zarandeando a few grains

Step 3: Tostar – toasting!

             

Now that you have all your grains nice and separated and clean, you’re ready to toast them.  You’ll need to make a fire first and let it burn down a bit so it has a nice consistent heat from the coals.  You can toast coffee for anywhere from an hour to three hours, depending on how you like it.  The length of time needed for toasting is affected by the heat level of the fire and the humidity level in the grains.

Giving the right arm a turn

According to Xavier, the slower you toast the coffee, the more complex and subtle the flavor becomes, because more of the sugars and stuff inside the grains are released.  Unlike the Pollo Brujo, Xavier makes a lot of sense!

The grains are put in a big pot and put over the fire.  You have to stir the grains constantly so they are all toasted evenly.  This task can really help with your ambidexterity because one arm gets really tired really fast and you’re forced to switch.

Once the grains start crackling and popping and turn a dark brown, almost black color, you know they’re just about done!  I like to leave the grains so that some of them are slightly burnt or completely black.  This gives the coffee a stronger bitterness.  The smell that comes off of toasting coffee grains is absolutely unreal.  I recommend it.

This coffee is almost done toasting

Step 4: Moler – grinding!

After you’re done toasting, it’s customary to soplar the coffee again for the double purpose of cleaning out any remaining bits of rind and cooling the super-hot grains.  When the grains are sufficiently cool to the touch, you’re ready to moler or “grind” it!  This is also a physically exhausting task that works all kinds of crazy muscles in the arms, chest and back.


Xavier says that when he was a kid, his grandmother would make him grind entire sacos of coffee without a break.  He would turn the crank and she would keep throwing handfuls of coffee into the molino (the grinder), and he’d have to aguantar or “be able to stand it,” until it was done.  Imagine a suburban 8-year-old in the States doing that kind of manual labor...

The coffee, once ground, finally comes out looking like the familiar brown powder we’re used to buying in the store, with the additional perk that this coffee is still warm from the fire it's just been toasted it on, and smells better than probably anything else in the world.

The freshly toasted grains are still warm

The coffe comes out of the molino smelling absolutely delicious

Step 5: Disfrutar – enjoying the results

You are finally ready to brew up your coffee and enjoy it!  The traditional way to make coffee in Nicaragua is not with a CoffeeMate or a french press, but boiled in a pot.

There are various opinions on how one should go about doing things but I'm just going to talk about how I do it.  I usually put two spoonfuls of coffee for each cup I want to make in a small amount of water, and put the pot on to boil.  Once it’s boiling, I turn down the flame and add water until the strength is just right (you have to taste it).  Then with another cup you ladle out the coffee into the mugs and strain it through a fine-mesh strainer to avoid the free floating grounds (called chingaste).

Then you can add sugar if you want, or better yet, enjoy it plain and pure and take note of the rich subtle flavors of the coffee you just transformed from fruit to beverage.




The next post should be back on track with the next volume of the Anatomy of a Project series, but I hoped you enjoyed the coffee break in the meantime!