About me

My family grew coffee on a hillside, and I grew up watching the cherries picked and the beans dried on trays in the sun. I drank it every morning and never gave it a thought. Then I moved to a city and bought a bag of beans from a shop, and I could not make it taste like home. It took me two years and a great deal of bad coffee to learn why.

Now I teach what I learned. You do not need an expensive machine or a trained tongue. You need a kettle, a small scale, a grinder and a little attention. I film my lessons at a long wooden table in my studio, and I write a letter every Sunday about one thing I noticed in the cup.