coffee at the speed it deserves.
Our green coffee crosses the Atlantic under sail — no bunker fuel, no air freight, no particular hurry. A crossing takes about six weeks, which happens to be roughly how long a fresh harvest needs to rest anyway. The wind has been moving cargo for four thousand years. it knows what it is doing.
the beans
- huila, colombia $18 / 250 g
- 1,700 m · washed · caturra
- cacao nib, red plum, quiet satisfaction.
- yirgacheffe, ethiopia $19 / 250 g
- 2,100 m · natural · heirloom
- apricot, bergamot, a mild sense of superiority.
- cajamarca, peru $17 / 250 g
- 1,850 m · honey · bourbon
- toffee, dried fig, patience rewarded.
Three origins at a time, restocked when the ship docks. If something is sold out, it is on a boat. This is not a supply-chain failure; it is the supply chain working exactly as designed.
the method
buy direct
We buy from eleven farms we can name, at prices we would be comfortable saying out loud. We publish them anyway, in case comfort was never the point.
roast weekly
Small batches, every Tuesday, in a drum roaster older than most startups. Nothing leaves the roastery more than fourteen days off roast. Past that, we drink it ourselves, with some regret.
ship slow
Under sail across the ocean; by rail and cargo bike where the land allows. Slower than a container ship, cleaner than both, and considerably better company.
drink slower
Grind by hand. Pour with attention. The coffee spent six weeks getting here — you can give it four minutes.
the letter
one email a month. it’s mostly about weather.