I'm really surprised this didn't elicit chatter right away. Scott Rao's latest blog entry really seems to say what many might be thinking privately, but unwilling to pronounce publicly. Of all of Scott's writings over the years, this one strikes a chord with me the most, and is one I highly agree with.

If you haven't seen it yet, it's here. He raises a few tender issues with many "3rd wave" roasters/cafes, about customer "education" and the topic of what's more important to moving specialty coffee forward towards wider acceptance, appealing to the low-hanging fruit (coffee snobs/ "Brooklynites" as he calls them) ? Or, actually realizing that we aught to try to focus more on building coffees that elicit a pleasurable sensation of balance, and less focus on " what exotic fruit this tastes like".

In the journey to find "better" lots of people will confuse different and unique for better. This isn't a criticism, it's something probably everyone does. We pursue new experiences. We like to challenge our palates. I think you can only really truly appreciate a perfectly balanced and pleasurable sensations when you've run the gambit of all the other tastes.

You see this in other industries. Craft beer went through a "let's see how hoppy we can make this" phase. It was new and bold. Now most enthusiasts have gone back to balance, because while you can appreciate a hop bomb, it's not always pleasurable. I don't know that I could really know what balance is without having a measuring stick of both sides.

Same thing with scotch. People love peat bombs for the experience.

Same thing with wine, but with new wave tannin bombs and an appreciation for old world balance.

Same thing with audio, people chasing different sounds in the name of "better quality" but eventually return to balance.

Most people will return to balance eventually unless they are just always chasing the gimmick. But to me, while I agree with Scott's overall point, it's healthy for shops and roasters to produce and sell the gimmick of fruit bombs if only to offer that experience to help develop everyone's palate.

How boring would espresso / beer / wine / scotch if only perfectly balanced offerings were available? How would I ever appreciate nuance in the absence of bold?

mike guy wrote:How boring would espresso / beer / wine / scotch if only perfectly balanced offerings were available? How would I ever appreciate nuance in the absence of bold?

I don't see where he's saying perfectly balanced (whatever that is supposed to be) is the only thing that should be available. And I'd say the majority of coffee's I've either roasted for my own enjoyment or bought from quality roasters are plenty bold, even with varying levels of nuance.

But I agree with your comparison of modern speciality coffee vs the market to the peaty single malt Islay scotch crowd vs the common whisky fan. To a vast majority of people, Laphroig tastes/smells like old band-aids. There's a reason Johnnie Walker sells so well. I think Scott Rao is suggesting that we start aiming at the Johnnie Walker crowd of coffee vs the 0.1% of the market.

I hate this "lemon juice" comparison. I absolutely love straight lemon juice. It's lemony and sweet, not just acidic. A lemon juice coffee sounds fantastic.

Underextracted or underdeveloped coffee tastes more spoiled sour than lemon juice sour. Well developed light roasts can be fruity, which I prefer to what people traditionally mean with "balanced". But with the "*NB: Lest you think I'm advocating for dark roasts, I think one can easily create balanced, well-developed roasts dropped before first crack is complete." comment at the end, my take was more roasting and brewing it so a fruity coffee tastes like, well, fruit instead of a concentrated acid of that fruit.

Yeah I think the article may be making a fair criticism, but I'd frame it more as "loud vs. balanced" than "interesting vs. balanced." It is easy to get dramatic flavors through over- or under-extracting coffee, but they are rarely "interesting," they are just irritating. Balanced coffees present more sweetness, so you can savor them more slowly, picking up more of the subtle highlights.

In short, balanced cups are more interesting than unbalanced ones, at least to my palate. If a balanced extraction tastes bland, then that might be a problem of under-dosing, or simply a sign that you need to stop buying bland coffees.

mike guy wrote:Most people will return to balance eventually unless they are just always chasing the gimmick. But to me, while I agree with Scott's overall point, it's healthy for shops and roasters to produce and sell the gimmick of fruit bombs if only to offer that experience to help develop everyone's palate.

How boring would espresso / beer / wine / scotch if only perfectly balanced offerings were available? How would I ever appreciate nuance in the absence of bold?

Very well said, Michael! I agree completely that the only opinions that matter are those arising from experience, and we need to support all who work to help us learn and grow. I've learned a lot from things (and people) I didn't like very much, and I learn even more comparing my experiences with those of others. Even if I'd never again buy a wine, coffee etc because I really didn't like it (which has happened countless times in 7 decades of hedonism), I can't think of many such encounters that didn't teach me something of value and help me make even better choices.

But I fear that you've got most people on the wrong side of that gimmick chase. Most people drink lite beer, play racer with their shift paddles, eat highly processed salty food, shun knowledge, treat their bodies like disposables, and drink overpriced chain coffee that tastes like runoff from a doused campfire. Most people won't put $5 into learning about a new coffee (or food or historical site or culture or art form etc ad infinitum) - they seem to prefer (as you so elegantly put it) chasing the gimmick to making the effort to learn and grow. The closest to balance many in the world seek is carrying a beer in each hand without spilling any.

"Why does the third-wave palate differ so much from that of the rest of the population?" I don't think it does. Far more of those who consume from the tails of the bell shaped curve seem to me to do so in an attempt at social differentiation than out of honest preference borne of experience. Sure, there are many who simply love what most of us find extreme - I've been enjoying Lagavulin, Ardbeg and Caol Ila for many years. But it's hard to learn from those for whom extremism itself is the goal, be they snooty baristas or persnickety customers.

Rao was pretty active in the comments. Worth a read if you haven't.

I've heard him tease gut bacteria before. Looks like it's a regional thing.

North Americans favor sweet much more than most others do, Japanese favor umame and savory, Nordics seem to favor sour, etc. I would imagine that like most processes, there is a back and forth between culture/tradition, gut bacteria, and acquired taste. I think the three are usually intertwined.

Can't wait for him to post about this idea, as gut bacteria has become known as "the second brain."

This is from the comments, might be my favorite, and seems to sum up the post at large:

I'm just saying that the odd barista who embraces sour coffee is turning off 90%+ of potential customers.

mike guy wrote:Same thing with audio, people chasing different sounds in the name of "better quality" but eventually return to balance.

Very true. A commodity with one strength is "balanced" by the user's preference, but through adaption the user's preference will homogenizes with the one strength, so it will no longer have the potency, charm, allure. On the other hand: balance balances itself Now, whether or not you can learn the benefit of balance without wallowing in one-dimensionality for a time is a real ???? I think you have to be able to learn, and to do that you have to be humble. I'd argue the baristas Rao is criticizing are the un-humble ones.

I'm still a bit fuzzy on whether or not Rao's "balanced" simply means not sour or not bitter, as in no roast/brew error, or is it a cup that would score high on all the cupping parameters? The latter implies no roast/brew error, but it doesn't cover the counterexample of a fruit bomb which can be rather one dimensional.

TomC wrote:I don't see where he's saying perfectly balanced (whatever that is supposed to be) is the only thing that should be available.

I didn't mean to imply he did. Was just closing with that statement that while I agree with what is being said, I really would hope that the bold and unique roasts are offered along side both options.

I would like to see more coffee shops not just serve you whatever they want, but allow you to pick from a variety of beans that you fancy that day. I wouldn't have a bar with one beer on tap, so maybe it's time for 3rd wave shops to up their grinder count or start single dosing to offer a similar experience.

Agreed though, focus on the balance and excellence for the majority, and offer interesting and exciting for those looking for something new and different.

TomC wrote:I agree with your comparison of modern speciality coffee vs the market to the peaty single malt Islay scotch crowd vs the common whisky fan. To a vast majority of people, Laphroig tastes/smells like old band-aids. There's a reason Johnnie Walker sells so well.

Although I greatly appreciate your insight and contributions to my knowledge base, Tom, I think your observation on coffee vs Scotch deserves a response. I hope you don't mind, but I think there's a much bigger reason that JWB, like terrible chain coffee, sells so much better than the "good stuff".

JWB is a blend of malt and grain whiskies, the largest malt component of which is heavily peated Islay scotch - JWB is probably the smokiest and peatiest of all generally available blended whiskies (except, of course, for "double black"). Maybe it tastes/smells like new Band-Aids, but its character is similar to Laphroaig because it's the same stuff diluted with grain alcohol. Because of this, its price is half that of a bottle of Laphroaig and less than a third of a bottle of Lagavulin, which is certainly one of the main reasons for its sales success. It's widely considered a luxury drink while almost no one knows what Laphroaig is, which are two more reasons it sells so well. It's advertised heavily, so people know its easy-to-pronounce name and don't hesitate when ordering in front of a date, business associate, client etc they want to impress. It offers a lot of the character of its unadulterated source in a more accessible form with more visible socioeconomic return - it's cheaper, easier to get, made from the same basic ingredients, and vastly more popular. This is also true for the sweeter, lighter single malts in comparison with the blends made from them - Macallan 12 will simply never outsell Dewars.

I think this might also explain the $1+ billion spent annually on Folgers and the $500 million spent annually on bags of ground coffee from Starbucks, not to mention in-store sales of brewed chain coffees. Somewhere hidden within each cup of swill is a floral note, a caramel drop, a chocolate square, or a whiff of ripe lemon and strawberry. The higher cost of "specialty coffee" pays to get rid of the rest of the taste and smell so we can enjoy what we really like. And it's probably as painful for many to try to order Lagavulin or Laphroaig in public as it is to request Sulawese or Chanchamayo.

Just my 2c - thanks!

I'm reading this thread as I sit as my desk, sipping a light-roasted Kenya that has cooled to room temperature. It tastes of peach, mango, plum skin and ripe banana. It is quite sweet, with a creamy body and an undefined as yet, spicy finish. I'm enjoying it. No one else in my office would. They would quickly add sugar and milk, and even at that, would not think it tastes like real coffee.

This past weekend I batch-brewed a pot of my darkest South American blend for my customers. This coffee is pre-blended and roasted 20 seconds into 2nd crack to about 435*. It was not burnt or roasty. Mixed with milk and sugar it tasted like eating a Hersey bar. Everyone loved it...me included. The 1-1/2 gallon pot was drained in an hour. If I made a pot of the Kenya, I wouldn't have customers next week.

Years ago I rep'd hair products for a high-line, well-renowned hair dresser. He cut hair his way. He cut what he knew was correct for the person. He was approached my Madonna in the early 80s, when she wanted to upgrade her look. This would have been equally good for his career as hers. She had too much input into what she wanted her hair to look like and he turned her away. I watched him cut 'art' onto models heads for 2 years. But for everyday people the question I always had was: "is it still a great haircut if the person wearing it hates it?"

I believe my role in the coffee business is to educate my customers by communicating what is possible, not what is good or not. My approach with a new customer is to inquire as to their current coffee habits. If they drink 99% Starbucks, I'm not going to recommend an 8-minute Kenya. I might go with a medium/dark roasted Brazil, Colombia or Guat. But if they seem adventurous, I've been known to make a pourover of a lighter roasted Ethiopian for an uninitiated customer, telling them if they don't like it, they don't have to pay for it and I'll happily make them another. I honestly don't remember anyone taking me up on it. I roast 6-8 bags of natural Ethiopia for each weekend and sell all of it. I love that.

Balance, to me, is equal parts sweetness, bitterness and acidity. My approach to roasting and brewing is to first find the balance point in a coffee and then move it off center in the direction that the coffee favors. I would not make a habit of roasting exclusively to it's strength at the expense of other balancing attributes. If I wanted lemon juice, I'd make lemonade.

That said, I have played around with foregoing sweetness in a roast in order to bring out a particular flavor note that disappears when sweetness develops. I know it's heresy to say, but it's really easy to achieve sweetness in coffee...it's called sugar. I prefer mine in the form of 1/4 of an eyedropper of maple syrup from time to time.