February 2025 Subscription -
It's quiet up in the Piedras Amarillas mountainside of Los Andes. We made it up the narrow steep path to take a look at José Angel's Pacas and Gesha plants, mostly all picked, and much of them well into the next growing cycle, full of green fruit, months before they're ready to turn ripe. It's quite the commute/hike, so when José Angel and his 21 year old son (who recently came back from Spain from a tomato picking gig) trek out, it's for the full day, so they bring a lunch to heat up on the wood fire stove. Donkey in tow, by the end of the day it's a careful descent back to their home, where he's now got a full wet mill installed on site. Previously José Angel borrowed equipment from his neighbour, but the fragility of not knowing if he had space to mill and dry his coffee meant he needed to work on a more secure solution. He has that now. The picked fruit (when it's harvest time) sits in nylon bags for the commute down the mountain, macerating and building in a 'happy accident' fermentation starter with yeasts present on the fruit and in the air.
We make it halfway down before the rain, on cue at 4pm, rushes through the sky at such a clip that it feels like we're taking a dip in a river. "Sorry we didn't visit sooner, it's just the two of us." I said to José Angel as we slid down the thick yellow clay hillside. He looked incredulously at me at first, but then said "But you made it here. That's good. We've been waiting for you to visit."
Last June, we put Luna on pause with the sole purpose of heading down to Honduras, Peña Blanca to be precise, to visit producers we've worked with for years now, to catch up with old friends, and to hand over a Jellycat Tortoise plushy to our friend Benjamin's new little one :)
Sometimes we're asked if we head out to visit 'origin' often, and the answer is nope! The stark reality is this - Who would roast and ship out to you if we were off galavanting? So when we do manage to organize a visit to our producer partners, it's an incredibly big deal, and we need to make it count.
It had been 5 years that we've been buying from José Angel López, Hildaly Leiva (and a few more folks), and 7 years since I had last saw anyone from the mill we work with, Beneficio San Vicente - Which, might I add, is not merely a mill. This place is a hub for the coffee growing community of Santa Bárbara. Folks deliver parchment to the open cement slab covered with swaths of nylon bags full of deliveries, all marked with familiar names like one of the prolific Moreno's, or Benitez' and how many bags each lot represents in sharpie. They back in with their pickup trucks, unload, wait for a sample to be taken by the BSV staff. They chat with neighbours. Earlier in the year it would have been total pandemonium with the bulk of the harvest ready for export by March/April. By the time we visited in June, it was much quieter, but it's an especially strategic time - Some of the best lots out of Santa Bárbara aren't even picked yet. In fact, one of the lots (the one in your box this month) only made it down from Los Andes (the area of Santa Bárbara National Park where one of José Angel's farms are) mere days before we landed in the country. Not exactly a fly crop, folks tend to refer to coffees from June onwards from this area as 'Late Harvest'.
"Look down there" José Angel pointed to the farm's namesake, an aquamarine cactus plant dotting the narrow path. Los Nopales is one of two farms he has, the other in nearby Cielito, where Natividad Benitez is.
Nate and I have been selling José Angel's coffee for the large majority of time we've been running Luna. Each year, his Pacas variety lots taste a little different, but always hitting the mark of what we love about this dwarf bourbon - Soft orchard fruits like pear, sometimes wild raspberry, praline. Coffees, especially pacas, from this area is in a totally different world from a co-ferment, these coffees have a quiet confidence and are something that we've always had a soft spot for.
Humanity shines through fragile systems
This year was the first year where we couldn't buy all of José's coffee (though we've bought more than ever from him this year). He's grown! Especially since he now has these two farms. So the earlier harvest went to Square Mile in the UK, and the late harvest went to Luna. There was a time when roasters would boast about having 'exclusivity' over a producer's harvest. I've sometimes found that to be off-putting. We all know, especially through the first part of this decade, that this world is fragile. Our collective systems related to shipping, reliability, have all been tested. One trade policy decision, a container shortage, some bad weather, can upend some of the best laid plans. Benjamin (who's coffee you may have had last year) is chief facilitator, playing matchmaker for producers and roasters, putting together a puzzle every harvest season. This year though, he's got some key help, with Ariel, BSV's agronomist, taking a more supportive role helping Benjamin out collecting information, relaying producer's needs, and helping us connect with the producers we partner with.
Pacas itself, though it's a variety that has previously flourished around the Santa Bárbara mountain area, it's got some wrinkles, namely susceptibility to the pathogenic fungus called hemileia vastatrix (la roya or leaf rust) and decreasing ability to thrive in some altitudes. This fragility means it does beautifully where José Angel is (being around a 45min hike straight up the mountain from the roadside in Los Andes), but I've seen the same variety totally distressed in lower elevations in Las Flores, a mere 20 min drive away. I've been trying to practice keeping a slow and appreciative mind whenever I have coffees like this one, knowing that 5-10 years down the line, it may never be the same. José Angel will have to adapt. That could mean a different variety, or a foray into culturing yeasts, or any number of things. We simply don't know yet. But it's been something on my mind.
Meanwhile, Hildaly's farm in Las Flores is lush & hot (in contrast, Josés farm is almost BC coastal rainforest-like). She's growing Parainema, the Honduran coffee board's answer to fragility in coffee agriculture, for now. A Timor Hybrid/ Villa Sarchi cross, that's been increasingly present across Honduras, it’s known for its oblong shape, picked so ripe it’s purple. Coffee is one of a few things Hildaly and her partner, Grevil produce. The other main thing is plantains. The towering bunches with purple clusters are a cash crop they both rely on as a way to achieve more consistent cashflow through the year. Coffee is the main thing they produce though, and they're both proud of their efforts (and we're very appreciative). Parainema represents one of a few roads into the future of coffee.
We’ve written more about Santa Bárbara (more than could ever fit in this zine), all published online in our journal, throughout the years - and in the spirit of this month’s subscription box, you’re invited to dig into the archives. Nate and I want to be there for what's next in Santa Barbara and hopefully you're down to come along with us to find out together in the years to come.
Hope you enjoy this Pacas from José Angel and Parainema from Hildaly and see you next month!
Laura & Nate
Luna is powered by Laura & Nate, two industry nerds from Vancouver, Canada. What you just read comes as a printed colour zine each month, alongside two coffees specifically sourced for subscribers. Join us next time!
