I have meant to wax lyrical about Timor and its coffee for some time now but I decided to leave it until I had done a tour of the coffee producing areas and seen coffee harvesting and processing in action. I had timetabled for this months ago but was held back by the fact that harvesting does not start until June.<\/p>\n
Now that June has passed, it still has not happened. The coffee-producing centre of Ermera has been one of the bases for the so-called “rebels” and the coffee production facilities have been in general turmoil for a while now. The coffee producers rely on seasonal labour at harvest time and because of all the crap lately, the labourers are reluctant to go to the Ermera\/Gleno area for work.<\/p>\n
More importantly, over the last month or so, the troubles have dealt a severe blow to us lovers of freshly roasted coffee. My source of high quality beans had closed down for over a month and the street sellers of lower quality beans near the airport had deserted their premises.<\/p>\n
The supermarkets have a large quantity of vacuum-packed beans from mainly European and Australian companies – but all of unknown age and many packets which have lost their vacuum-ness. Out of deference to the local industry, in times like this I buy the Portuguese processed “Delta” Timorese coffee which is re-imported back into Timor (and fortunately packaged in a cardboard package to protect the vacuum bag inside).<\/p>\n
But I finally managed to arrange for my fix of the high quality roasted beans which were delivered to me by bicycle. They make me feel like I am the only person in town with such exacting requirements. But can’t complain.<\/p>\n
Its strange really as I didn’t start drinking coffee until one day at work (a number of years ago) I arrived at work with a hang-over and figured that the only thing that might help was a strong cup of coffee. Tea just didn’t do a thing. It was then that I finally realised why the “Pablo” coffee I once provided for coffee drinking guests was greeted with disdain.<\/p>\n
Of course, I had a bad start. My mother drank International Roast and Maxwell House and I recall her once allowing me to try coffee when I was but a wee lad. It was her funny way of ensuring I wouldn’t drink it. I also figured this out as she did a similar thing with wine by allowing me to try some green coloured hungarian wine that sat (opened) in the cupboard under the kitchen sink.<\/p>\n
Its all child psychology really. The result is that I have become a coffee konnoyzer and wine lake reduction expert.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
I have meant to wax lyrical about Timor and its coffee for some time now but I decided to leave it until I had done a tour of the coffee producing areas and seen coffee harvesting and processing in action. … Continue reading