by another_jim on Sat Apr 02, 2011 11:20 pm
In many cases, "Now I can taste it too" is not a unicorn; it's learning. For instance, to a medical student, an X-ray looks like random blobs. After while, they learn to see the tumors. The tumors kill people even if the med student sees only blobs.
The elusiveness of coffee and other tastes does not lie in it being a taste, or in it being subjective, or in us lacking the words; but in it having no long term consequence beyond the immediate experience. When taste was about discriminating food from poison, it was a lot like the X-ray, and the "now I taste it too" kept people alive.
The best way to learn the realities of taste is to create some consequences. I don't mean poisoning the Sumatra, although that would certainly make its mushroom flavors less imaginary. Instead, I mean linking tastes to controlling actions. You learn to taste "acidity" by doing lighter roasts and faster flowing brews, "bitter" by darker roasts and slower pulls, "more mellow and integrated" by slower roasts and lower doses. etc. etc. You learn to the difference between "Kenya" and 'Costa Rica" by cupping a lot of each coffee from each origin*. Once you can vary the tastes of coffee in a predictable fashion, according to how you select, roast and brew it, the whole subject becomes a lot less mysterious.
At that point, the true miracle of exceptional coffees, which is beyond anyone's control, becomes clear. For this, words become more like variations on oh! and ah!, rather than descriptions. So while the descriptions of, say, a great Yrg, is poetic, the greatness itself is real enough to keep all of us coming back for more.
*Miguel Meza thinks these characteristic regional tastes are often the result of manipulation rather than terroir, created by processing variations. Stay tuned for some interesting "Kenyas," "Sumatras" and "Sidamos" coming from Kona.